Time To Go

by Time To Go (epub)

  Nash nudged her as they walked along. ‘As you can see, the gang’s all here.’ He stopped, checked his watch, then hurried back towards the stairs, pulling Caelan along with him. Johnny followed, while the other man disappeared through the door at the far end of the corridor.

  ‘Stefan?’ Nash bellowed, his fingers digging into Caelan’s arm. ‘Stef?’

  Stef. Caelan blinked. They were in it together. Nash and Harris, pretending to hate each other, all the while running this despicable scheme.

  This was what Mulligan had been trying to tell her all along – they were all involved. Reuben Nash, Stefan Harris, Jolene Townsend and Leyton Grey. She guessed Mulligan had struggled to point the finger at Jolene and Leyton, but he had done so in the end. Whether his conscience hadn’t allowed him to protect them or it had been his own line in self-preservation, keeping him out of prison, Caelan didn’t know.

  Harris descended the stairs, looking as nonchalant as Nash.

  ‘Evening, all,’ he said. He spotted Justyna, who turned her face away from him. He went to her, grabbed her by the throat. ‘Hello, Mother,’ he said, and threw her against the wall.

  Nash raised a hand. ‘Easy, Stefan. We don’t want her hurt.’

  Harris was still snarling, but he allowed Nash to lead him away and stalked back up the stairs muttering to himself.

  Nash smiled as there was a knock on the outside door. He opened it with a flourish.

  Caelan saw Ewan first, stumbling inside, his eyes swollen, his mouth bleeding. Mulligan was next, pale and sweating. She stared at him and he managed a grin.

  ‘Evening, Cousin Victoria. Don’t suppose you’ve any aspirin? I’ve a shocking headache.’

  Lucy said, ‘James,’ and tried to reach for her brother. Johnny shoved her back, and Caelan saw Mulligan’s eyes blaze. She met Ewan’s gaze and gave a tiny shake of her head: Let me handle this. He frowned, but she knew he would do as she asked.

  ‘Let’s keep it friendly, shall we?’ Nash said.

  Caelan looked at the cases Townsend and Grey carried and the nausea rose again as she remembered the torture inflicted on Nathan Nash. Had Jolene been involved? Leyton? She couldn’t see it, but she had been wrong about so much already. She was trapped, more so than she had ever been in her career. She was exposed, vulnerable, and she had too many people around her to risk any heroics. Then again, you could only bide your time for so long. If she wanted to get out of here alive, she might have to act regardless.

  Nash was a talker, a show-off. She already knew that and wondered if she could use it. She had questions, after all.

  ‘Who killed Nathan?’ She spoke loudly, and Nash narrowed his eyes.

  ‘Haven’t you worked it out yet, Miss Marple? People will do anything for money, or better still, for drugs. Fortunately for me, and for Stefan, poor Leyton over there has problems with both. He’s good with a pair of scissors, less so with a baseball bat. He killed the man he was supposed to threaten and tickled the man he was supposed to kill.’ He spoke about the death of his brother as though it was no more than a minor inconvenience. Grey looked ill. He had set his case on the floor, wrapped his arms around his body.

  ‘Tickled?’ Despite it all, Mulligan sounded indignant. ‘I’ve been in the bloody hospital; this isn’t a migraine we’re talking about. I’d be there now if you hadn’t—’

  Casually Nash stepped forward and punched him in the stomach. Mulligan dropped to his knees, gasping and choking. His sister made to rush forward, then thought better of it.

  Caelan raised her voice. ‘And Jolene? What’s her role here?’

  ‘Making our friends look presentable,’ Nash said. ‘Make-up, hairstyling. Leyton does a few trims. Jolene also stays with our friends in the green room – the one they’re waiting in now – before they go onstage.’

  Caelan listened in horrified fascination. Their friends? The green room?

  ‘She chats to them while they wait, offers them a little something to calm their nerves if they need it. Nathan used to do that too, but then he… well, he let us down.’

  ‘How?’ Caelan thought she’d guessed, but she wanted to hear Nash say it.

  ‘He had a crisis of conscience, much like your friend Mulligan. He wanted out, didn’t like the thought of what we do here. Jolene and Leyton, well, they might not enjoy it either, but they keep their heads down and do the job, because when you owe as much money as they do, what choice do you have?’

  Grey gave a strangled sob, and Nash laughed. ‘It was Leyton who flogged my brother until he screamed for mercy. You’d never think it looking at him now, snivelling like a baby, but when we told him to get on with it or we’d practise on him first, he soon picked up the whip. Kept his eyes closed most of the time, but he got the job done. People can do anything if it saves their own skin.’ He stepped closer to Caelan. Still she didn’t flinch, not when his hand stroked her cheek or when he ran his fingers through her hair. He leant into her, trapping her against the wall. She hoped Ewan wouldn’t react as Nash ran his lips down her throat and kissed her ear. She held herself rigid.

  He gave up, pushing her away from him. ‘Now that I’ve answered your questions, how about you tell me who you really are?’

  ‘I’m Victoria Smith.’

  He rubbed his chin, pretending to be deep in thought. ‘Except a woman you claim is your cousin has never heard of you, certainly doesn’t recognise you.’

  ‘I… must have got confused,’ Lucy stammered. ‘I don’t know all of the family; there are so many on the Smith side…’

  Nash ignored her. He looked at Mulligan, who was now back on his feet, though his face was purple, his eyes streaming.

  ‘Looks like it’s up to you, James,’ he said. He beckoned to Johnny, who stepped forward. ‘The gun,’ Nash snapped. Scowling, Johnny handed it over. Nash smiled, testing the weight of the weapon in his hand. ‘Feels good,’ he said. ‘Lighter than I expected. You ever fired a gun, James?’

  Mulligan licked his lips. ‘Once or twice.’

  Nash nodded, then with a sudden movement jammed the barrel against Mulligan’s temple. Grey moaned; tears were running down Lucy’s cheeks. Caelan twitched. The situation was more desperate than ever. What could she do? How could she stop this? She could attack, but it was still too risky. Play along, and be ready to take your chance, she told herself.

  ‘Now, James, man to man,’ Nash said. ‘All right, you’re the one with the gun to your head, but let’s play fair. I won’t blow your brains out if you tell me who this bitch really is.’

  Mulligan gulped. Over Nash’s shoulder he met Caelan’s eyes, and she knew what he was going to say. She knew then that she would die in this place, for this job. Mulligan didn’t look away, kept his eyes fixed on Caelan as he spoke.

  ‘She’s my cousin. Lucy doesn’t know her, of course she doesn’t. We only met Victoria once as kids, and Lucy wasn’t much more than a baby. We didn’t speak again till recently, when Vic heard I was in the same business as her. I mean, it’s not something you shout about, is it? Don’t bring it up at weddings and funerals. Check her background, ask around in Edinburgh.’

  ‘I have,’ Nash said.

  ‘And?’

  ‘People said she was legit.’ Wavering, Nash ran his free hand through his hair.

  ‘There you go,’ Mulligan said. Caelan was amazed at his calmness. He hadn’t betrayed her, at least not yet. She had no idea what he was doing, but it was buying them time. ‘You know what she was up to,’ he went on. ‘She saw I was useless, wanted to work with a proper businessman. Whether that was you or Stefan, she didn’t care. Either way, one of you would be forced out of the area.’

  ‘You think?’ Stefan bellowed from upstairs. ‘Cheeky bastard.’

  ‘Wait,’ Nash said. He turned to Lucy. ‘You. Follow me.’ He looked at Caelan. ‘You too.’

  Caelan met Lucy’s eyes and nodded. What else could they do? Nash still held the gun.

  ‘Where are you taking them?’ Mulligan demanded
.

  Nash smiled. ‘Why don’t you come with us and you’ll find out?’

  Johnny grabbed Mulligan by the front of his jacket. ‘Start walking,’ he said.

  Lucy glared at the bodyguard. ‘Leave him alone.’

  He laughed. ‘Found some guts, have you? About time.’

  ‘Fuck off,’ Lucy spat.

  Nash waved the gun. ‘Through the door, all of you.’

  Nash hustled them past the stage, into the room where the people in white robes sat, waiting their turn. He ignored them, didn’t even look, but Mulligan’s eyes widened.

  ‘What the fuck?’

  Johnny laughed. ‘What? Where did you think your shipments ended up? Not coming over here for a holiday, were they?’

  Mulligan’s face worked. ‘This is fucking barbaric.’

  ‘Didn’t bother you when you were spending the money, did it?’

  ‘James?’ Lucy’s voice was little more than a whisper. ‘You’re not involved in this? You wouldn’t—’

  ‘Of course he would,’ Johnny said cheerfully. ‘Hope the two of you don’t have a granny, because he’d sell her as well.’

  Mulligan reached out a hand to his sister, but she shoved him away.

  Nash kept them moving, through another door. This room was about twenty feet square, and empty. The skin on the back of Caelan’s neck prickled. This place… People had died in here, she would swear to it.

  ‘Over there, by the wall,’ he ordered.

  Johnny closed the door and stood beside it, arms folded, a smile on his face like he was having the time of his life. Mulligan stumbled towards the far side of the room, Lucy close behind him. Brother and sister stood side by side, Lucy’s face wet with tears, Mulligan’s red and furious. Caelan followed, terrified, adrenalin making her frantic, her mind racing through possibilities. Nash had the gun, Johnny was guarding the only door, and there were no windows. Stefan Harris was out there, as was the second bodyguard, Chris.

  ‘On your knees,’ Nash ordered.

  Caelan heard Mulligan whimper. Slowly, Lucy crouched. Mulligan dropped to the ground beside her. Nash waved the gun at Caelan.

  ‘On your knees,’ he repeated.

  She stared back at him, knowing he’d never held a gun before in his life. He’d just told them as much, but at this range, inexperience wouldn’t matter.

  He wouldn’t need to be an expert to kill her.

  Still she defied him. Nash’s hand trembled as he raised the gun again, pointing it at Caelan’s face.

  Johnny shifted. ‘Boss, why don’t you let me—’

  ‘Shut up,’ Nash screamed.

  The door opened and the man in the dark suit walked in. He took in the scene immediately. Walking up to Nash, he held out his hand. ‘Give it to me.’

  ‘I know what I’m doing,’ Nash protested.

  ‘No. Give it to me.’

  Scowling, humiliated, Nash handed the weapon over. The man weighed it in his hand and smiled. Caelan revised her plan. This was a man familiar with firearms, comfortable with them. He looked at her.

  ‘Come here,’ was all he said. She looked at him and he nodded, pointed at the floor with the gun. ‘Now.’

  She moved quickly, stood beside him.

  ‘Good. Stay.’ He walked across to where Lucy and Mulligan cowered. ‘Now,’ he said to Caelan. ‘My colleague asked you a question. You need to answer.’

  ‘Who are you?’ Nash said softly.

  Caelan knew she had no choice. Lucy watched her, dry-eyed now. Still Caelan didn’t speak; she couldn’t. Her mouth was parched, her throat closed.

  ‘Well?’ The man with the gun clicked his tongue. He pointed the gun at the back of Mulligan’s head – Mulligan, torturer, liar, drug dealer, people trafficker, and all Caelan could think about was how she was going to save his life. The odds were so heavily stacked against her it was laughable, but she knew she had to try.

  ‘You don’t think I’ll shoot?’ the man in the suit asked quietly.

  Johnny laughed. ‘I don’t think she believes—’

  His words disappeared as the back of his head exploded, blood and gore splattering the wall behind him. Lucy shrieked, Mulligan let out a scream. Nash whimpered, flung his arms around himself.

  ‘Yes, I will shoot,’ the man said. Caelan gave a casual nod while her mind screamed against the murder she had just witnessed. She forced her eyes away from Johnny’s body, from the oozing matter on the wall.

  ‘So.’ The gun was at Mulligan’s head again. ‘Your friend. Tell me her name.’

  Mulligan gulped, looking up at Caelan. Tell him, she mouthed. Mulligan swallowed, lips pressed together. ‘You won’t say?’ A chuckle. ‘Maybe the young lady will.’

  As he took a step to the side, Caelan dropped to one knee, pulling the gun Lucy had passed to her at the bottom of the stairs from the waistband of her jeans. She fired once, the bullet finding its mark, the shoulder of the fancy suit instantly covered in blood. The man fell backwards, his own weapon skittering across the floor as he lay bellowing in pain.

  Mulligan came to life, scrabbling for the gun, but Nash was there first. He grabbed it as Caelan straightened, pointing it at her again. She saw the panic and fear in his eyes and knew he was more dangerous now than he had been before, probably more so than the man in the suit had been. He had murdered Johnny, but Reuben, with his wild eyes and trembling body, could end up killing them all.

  ‘You bitch,’ he said. His voice was shaking almost as much as his hand was. ‘Who the fuck do you think you are?’

  Caelan held up her hands, still holding her gun. She didn’t take her eyes off his as she kept moving, hands in the air, slowly rotating, Nash following her movements unconsciously, until her body was between Nash and Lucy and Mulligan.

  ‘Give me the gun, Reuben,’ she said softly. ‘It’ll be better for you.’

  He snorted. ‘What are you talking about? I’m walking out of here.’

  ‘And where will you go?’

  ‘I don’t know. Anywhere.’ He looked at the man on the floor, blood still leaking from his shoulder. ‘He’s dying.’

  Perfectly calm, Caelan shook her head. ‘Unlike you lot, I don’t shoot to kill.’

  Nash looked at the gun in his own hand as though he was surprised to see it there. ‘Tell me who you are.’

  Caelan waited, hoping she had read him right, hoping this wasn’t where the whole thing went to shit.

  ‘Tell me,’ Nash yelled, lunging for her. Caelan stepped back, spun on the ball of her left foot and whipped out her right leg, the crack as her foot connected with Nash’s outstretched arm sounding almost as loud as the shots had. He screamed, fell, and she bent to pick up the gun. As he writhed on the ground, she stood over him, both weapons safely pointed at the ground. He was crying, moaning, and she knew he wouldn’t hear her.

  ‘I’m a police officer,’ she said.

  33

  10 December

  ‘They intended to sell you too, you know.’ Ian Penrith opened a bottle of whisky and began to pour generous measures into glasses. He looked at Ewan, Mulligan, Lucy and Caelan in turn. ‘All of you.’

  ‘Are you serious?’ Caelan shook her head. She felt as though she was still trembling as shock, horror and disbelief set in.

  ‘Why not? It would have got rid of the lot of you in one stroke.’ Penrith pressed a button on the phone on his desk. No one spoke, Caelan and the others absorbing what he had said, Penrith himself continuing to pour whisky. The door opened and DS Jen Somerville appeared. She handed several evidence bags to Penrith and left the room. Penrith put down the whisky bottle.

  ‘And here are some they prepared earlier.’ He held up a bag containing one of the numbered pink feather headdresses. ‘Thirty-five.’ He nodded at Caelan and then held up the others. ‘Thirty-six, thirty-seven, thirty-eight, thirty-nine. Lucy, Justyna, Mulligan, Ewan.’ He stood, held out the tray of glasses. ‘Anyway, cheers.’

  * * *

  When they were alone,
Caelan said, ‘How much did you know?’

  Penrith sipped his whisky, affecting an air of innocence. ‘I don’t know what you mean.’

  ‘Yes you do. You got someone to throw the brick through Lucy’s window, made sure Mulligan heard about it while he was still inside.’

  ‘No comment.’

  ‘You hid Lucy away and came to me with your sob story. Mulligan was released. Did he know your plan?’

  Penrith smiled. ‘He was… cooperative. I think we might have a role for him here.’

  ‘He’s a murderer, a torturer.’

  ‘And he saved your life.’ Penrith drained his drink and reached for the bottle.

  ‘And that makes up for everything else?’ Caelan felt like throwing her own glass at the wall.

  Penrith watched her steadily.

  ‘What?’ she demanded.

  ‘Do you know where Lucy was?’ he asked.

  She made a noise of frustration. ‘Obviously not.’

  ‘In the hotel where you’re staying. Same floor, five doors down. You wouldn’t have seen her; she was instructed not to leave the room.’

  Caelan stared at him. ‘Are you joking?’

  ‘Do I ever? Mulligan told her to go there, before we were even involved, and he paid for it too. Consider that when you’re wondering if I orchestrated the whole thing. He lied about that, not me. I had no idea.’

  Did she believe him? Caelan wasn’t sure. Did it matter any more? ‘What about Mulligan? He was in intensive care.’

  Penrith smiled. ‘No, he wasn’t. I told you he was, and you took me at my word. He was also staying in the hotel – we put him in the room next to Ewan’s.’

  ‘You—’ Caelan took a breath, controlled her anger. ‘You were protecting him.’

  ‘I had to. He knew you were beginning to make progress, even if you hadn’t realised it yet.’

  ‘Even though he’s—’

  He looked at her, serious now. ‘You did well. They’re still processing all those…’ He swallowed a word, searched for another, ‘All the punters who were there to bid, as well as Nash, Harris and their friends.’