Blood Feud

by Anna Smith

  ‘Oh, Kerry! I’m so sorry! I didn’t have your number and I knew roughly where the big house was, so I got a taxi but then I didn’t know the exact house, and there’s nobody in the bloody streets here to ask anything, so I was rapping on doors like a mad woman . . .’ She ranted, not stopping for breath.

  ‘Here. Sit down. Don’t worry about that. Take your coat off.’ Kerry ushered her to a chair at the kitchen table and stuck on the kettle. ‘What’s happened?’

  ‘Oh, Kerry. It’s our Cal. I’m frantic. And Jenny. There’s trouble. Cal . . . Our Cal. He’s been arrested. Down south.’

  ‘What? How?’

  ‘Christ. I don’t know. Drugs or something. All they said was he was dropping something off. Cops have got him.’

  For a moment, Kerry thought of their own operations, and hoped that no bastard on the ground who worked for her was doing his own little racket.

  ‘What do you mean? He was working for drug dealers?’

  ‘I don’t know. They just came to the flat to warn me that he’d been arrested by the cops and not to open my mouth once they came to tell me. They said they’ve got Jenny.’

  ‘Who are these guys? Do you know anything about them?’

  ‘No. No idea. They just turned up. Two of them. They said some operation went tits up. I mean, my Cal. He told me he was working a doubler in the car wash. But they said he was in Manchester for them. I’m sick with worry. Cal just wouldn’t do that. He’s a good boy.’ Her face flushed.

  ‘Right. Okay. Just try to take it easy. Listen to me. We’ll get this sorted. Where’s Jenny?’

  ‘I don’t know. They said she’s safe as long as Cal keeps his mouth shut.’

  Kerry took mugs from the cupboard and placed them on the worktop.

  ‘Right. Let’s just sit down and go from the start here, Maria.’ She put her hand on her friend’s shoulder and felt how skinny she was. ‘It’ll be all right. We’ll sort this. No matter what.’

  Chapter Fifteen

  Kerry had woken early despite another sleepless night. It had been three nights since her mother’s funeral and each day she’d thrown herself into work, going over all the businesses they ran, looking at bank accounts and working out where she was going to go from here. It was a long road, but she was on it now. Since Jake Cahill had come over to her at the wake and told her the job was done, Kerry had gone over it again and again in her mind how easily she took the news. She had ordered a hit on four killers, and her instructions were carried out. That part of what she was becoming was not recognisable to her, but it was really her. She had given the order, and what had caused her the sleepless nights was that she hadn’t even flinched. Perhaps she was overthinking it. Nobody else, not Danny, not Marty – though he must have known about it – even discussed it with her afterwards. She hadn’t expected Danny to say anything, but she might have expected Marty to mention something, because he saw that she was something more than the head of a gangster family. Perhaps because he saw what her father’s hopes had been for them. But if he was affected or disappointed, she didn’t know, because he behaved no differently towards her. He was too professional. His job was to look after the legal affairs – as he told her, to keep them all out of jail. She was having breakfast in the study when she heard a knock on the door and Sasha put her head around.

  ‘There’s police at the door, Kerry. A DI Burns. He would like to speak with you.’

  Kerry frowned. Her first instinct was to phone Marty. For a second it occurred to her that he might be coming to question her over the murders of the hitmen. But she was being ridiculous. Jake Cahill never left any traces that could come back to anyone. She picked up her mobile, scrolled down to Marty’s number. Then she changed her mind. There was nothing to be nervous about. Her legal mind told her not to worry.

  ‘Show him in, Sasha. Is he alone?’

  ‘A woman is with him.’

  ‘Fine.’

  Kerry stood up and adjusted her skirt and fixed her hair. There was a knock on the door, then it opened and in walked Vinny Burns. He looked at her and she caught him flick a glance up and down her, but his face showed nothing.

  ‘Morning, Kerry. Sorry to disturb you.’ He turned to the woman. ‘This is DC Galbraith.’

  ‘How you doing, Inspector . . . Constable. What can I do for you?’

  ‘Well. We’d like to ask you about a couple of incidents three days ago. Four men were murdered.’

  The words didn’t knock Kerry off her feet the way they might have done a few weeks ago. She shot him a give-me-a-break look.

  ‘Four men were murdered? I saw something on the news.’ She screwed her eyes up. ‘So what’s that got to do with me, Inspector? Three days ago. That was the day of my mother’s funeral.’

  He nodded. ‘Yes. It was. Four men were murdered on that day.’

  Kerry shrugged and managed a bit of a sigh. ‘Well. You’ll need to help me out here, Inspector,’ she said with more than a hint of sarcasm. ‘I would ask you to sit down and have some coffee, and we could chat about the various murders that have happened in Glasgow in recent months.’ She raised her eyebrows. ‘Or are you going to come here and ask me about everyone who gets bumped off? Because I honestly don’t know why you’re here.’

  She saw Vinny blush slightly and there was a small stab of serves you right in her gut. There was history here with this man. He had meant the world to her. Sure, they had only been teenagers, but she could still call up that hurt all these years on.

  He looked a little frustrated.

  ‘Look, Kerry, I’m not going to beat about the bush here. I’ll just tell you straight. These men, two from Manchester – and two from Belfast. They are known violent criminals. It is our information that they were hired by Joe Knuckles Boyle. That these are the men who came to your brother’s funeral – that these are the men who killed your mother, and your brother.’

  Kerry let the words hang in the air for as long as she could, feeling the glare of the female detective.

  ‘You mean the hitmen.’ She shrugged. ‘Well, good riddance to them. Maybe Knuckles Boyle decided to get rid of them in case they talked. I mean, who knows, Inspector? What do you want me to say here?’

  She saw Vinny’s jaw muscle tighten and she could feel his unease, and sense his defeat.

  ‘Kerry, when I came here last week, after your mother’s murder, I said to you that I wanted to help find her killers. I meant that. I wanted to find them and bring them to justice, because that is the way we do business.’

  ‘I appreciate that, Inspector. Thanks. But somebody obviously got there first – because that’s how they do business.’

  She could feel the burst of adrenalin that she was somehow getting her own back on Vinny for the hurt all those years ago, even though she knew that was an irrational notion. But it felt good. In front of this female detective, who probably thought he was some kind of big shot, he was being put in his place by a woman who was having none of his crap.

  He said nothing for a long moment, and Kerry stood defiant. Eventually, he gave her a weary look.

  ‘Okay, Kerry. I understand. But these men are suspected of murdering your mother and brother, then they are killed while your mother’s funeral is taking place. We don’t think that’s a coincidence. There is talk that this is a hit by the Casey organisation.’

  ‘Aw, come on, Inspector. Talk? There’s always talk. You’re coming to me with rumours? Give me a break. We’re not the Corleones. Where are you getting this stuff from? I honestly think if you have evidence then you should really take it somewhere and see where you go with it. I have nothing to tell you here.’

  Deep down, even though she was winning this encounter, there was still a little part of Kerry that knew he was saying and doing the right thing. That what she had done – ordering the hit – was the wrong thing. What she should be doing was working with him, as he’d suggested a few days ago. But it was all too late for that.

  He took a step back.

&
nbsp; ‘Okay. I wanted to give you a heads up about what is being said on the street, and if some nutter like Knuckles Boyle thinks the Casey organisation is behind this, then he will hit back, and he will hit hard. That means you are a target.’

  Kerry nodded slowly.

  ‘I think I’m aware I am a target, Inspector. I wish the police had been around when my brother Mickey was gunned down in the street like a dog, or when Knuckles Boyle was planning to come to his funeral and murder my poor mother. I wish the word on the street had come to the police then, and perhaps we could have been prepared so that my mother would still be here.’

  The words at the end choked her. Their eyes locked for a moment, then he looked away.

  ‘Fair enough. Fair comment. I’ll leave you to it. I’m sorry to have disturbed you. And I’m really sorry for the loss of your mother. It must be so hard to deal with.’ He paused. ‘But if at any time you want to talk to us, then please call me. I mean any time, day or night.’ He turned and left. Kerry stood, feeling her day already ruined.

  Chapter Sixteen

  In the back seat of the Merc, Kerry was on her mobile as the driver approached the boutique hotel. As he swung into the small car park at One Devonshire Gardens, she finished her call with Marty Kane. She’d phoned him last night to ask him to see what he could find out about Cal’s arrest. He’d already established that Cal was being held in Manchester by drugs squad detectives but would be getting transferred to Glasgow. It was Marty who suggested he go down and pick him up and see about organising bail for him, rather than have him shunted up to Glasgow in custody.

  ‘Okay. Thanks, Marty. I’ll tell Maria. She called this morning to say the police had been at her house last night to inform her he was arrested. She’s a bit panicky, as you can imagine, but she’ll feel better if she knows you’re with him.’

  ‘Don’t worry, Kerry.’

  ‘Do you think they’ll let the boy out?’

  ‘We’ll see. That’ll be my plan. I’ll do my best.’

  ‘Good. I’m going to meet someone, and will call you later. I want to talk to you about this meeting I’m about to have anyway.’

  ‘See you later.’ He hung up.

  Good old Marty, Kerry thought. He hadn’t even questioned Kerry becoming involved in Maria’s problems, despite her being an outsider. It was enough that she’d told him Maria was an old schoolfriend who was struggling and whose kids were in serious trouble. Marty was a family man with two grown-up children and grandkids. She remembered her father telling her years ago that as well as being the best lawyer in the country, he was a man of compassion. She knew he would pull out all the stops to help someone less fortunate than him.

  *

  There were two sharp-looking businessmen in the reception area of the hotel when Kerry came through the swing doors and stepped onto the thick, cushioned carpet, into the quiet understated quality of One Devonshire Gardens. It was one of her favourite hotels and oozed discretion and class. The young man on reception glanced up as she came in, but said nothing. He would know who she was. It was the kind of place where the staff didn’t approach you unless you came to them – or unless, of course, you looked like you didn’t belong there. Kerry knew she belonged here. She’d had dinners and meetings over the years on her visits, and it was the last place she went for dinner with her mother on her most recent visit home before Mickey was killed. She could see pictures of the two of them in her mind as she walked across the lobby, and it brought a lump to her throat that she could never do that again. She swallowed, took a deep breath, and stood for a moment, until the only woman in the room at a table at the far corner below a window looked up. Kerry looked back at the woman, smart, well dressed, dyed hair and suntan, glamorous in a way that was just bordering on being tacky. The woman stood up. Kerry strode confidently across the room. She was in charge here. Sharon Potter knew how powerful she was, and it was she who had made the call asking for help. And the fact that Sharon had more or less told her she’d bumped off her would-be executioners meant Kerry had to stand up to her.

  ‘Sharon,’ Kerry said as she got to the table.

  ‘Hello, Kerry. Thanks for coming. I really appreciate it.’

  The accent was north of England. Kerry was used to all the different English accents exported to the Costa del Sol, and some of them were rough. Others were posh, old money, ex-pats who opted to live out their lives in the sunshine.

  Kerry shook her hand and glanced at the teapot. She turned around where she knew a waiter would be hovering at the door of the lounge. She beckoned him across.

  ‘Some tea for me please.’ She looked at Sharon. ‘Another pot for you? Food?’

  ‘No. Thanks. Just some water please.’

  The waiter almost bowed as he turned and left.

  Kerry let out a long sigh, removing her jade green scarf and putting it over the back of the leather armchair. She slipped off her navy coat, put her bag down and sat in the armchair. Only then did she meet Sharon’s dark brown eyes, right down to the false eyelashes. Her face was framed by high cheekbones and lush blondish hair. She looked well. No signs of botox or work, unless it was very discreet.

  ‘I’m so glad to see you. I’m glad to be actually alive to see you.’ Sharon shook her head, looked a little frustrated. From the brief half-smile, Kerry could see perfect white teeth. So it wasn’t all natural – this was at least a four grand job.

  ‘From the sound of you yesterday, Sharon, it was a harrowing day.’

  ‘Not to put too fine a point on it. I’m shattered.’

  There was a moment’s pause where Kerry felt the need to lay some ground rules. She leaned forward.

  ‘Sharon. I want to be clear about something before we go any further.’

  Sharon looked a little surprised; the first few seconds of their meeting had been almost friendly, but now it was being injected with a bit of power.

  ‘Course.’

  ‘Joe Boyle and his mob. I know they sent the squad up to my brother’s funeral.’

  There was a stony silence.

  ‘In fact, I want to just say this: you’ve got some brass neck if you knew about that and are now coming to me looking for my help.’

  A little colour rose on Sharon’s neck.

  ‘Kerry. I swear. I swear on anybody’s life that I knew nothing about it. I swear on my own son’s life.’

  ‘And Joe’s crew killed my brother.’

  She looked at the table for a second as though choosing her words, then back at Kerry.

  ‘I’m not going to lie to you. I knew about that. But only after it happened. Knuckles never told me about anything like that. I overheard it. I heard him talking on the phone. Not sure who to. But I heard him say it, but it was after it happened. I swear to God I didn’t know about the funeral.’

  They sat for a moment saying nothing. Kerry looked at her, waited for her to keep defending herself or see what she would say next. She was squirming a little, and she could see that. Whatever Sharon had expected, she didn’t expect to be grilled like this.

  ‘Did you not think I would ask you this, Sharon? Did you think you could come for help and me not ask this? It was your man, your organisation. You’re lucky my boys didn’t just bag and tag you and send you back Royal Mail to that fucker of a boyfriend.’

  Sharon suddenly turned pale.

  ‘Look, Kerry. Please. Christ! I don’t know what to say here. I . . . I just know that I know stuff about him if you want to ruin him. I heard the talk about the funeral and what happened and your mother being killed. Awful. But I know Knuckles is vulnerable. I know every area. If you want revenge I can give you it. But trust me: I came to you for two reasons. Firstly, I knew he was going to do me in and I wanted out. And the second, you seemed to be the perfect person to take him on, from what I’ve heard them saying about you. I know they are all over the place working out how to deal with you. I liked the sound of who you are and how you are treating people. And I thought – and maybe this was stupid �
�� but I thought, you know something? I can do business with this woman.’ She paused for a long moment, then looked Kerry square in the eye, a little defiant. ‘But, look, if I got it wrong, then I’ll go now. I have money so I can lie low and fuck off. But I’m not going to come here and lie to you. And I don’t want to be your whipping boy for what happened. I’m sorry about your mother. Really sorry. I lost my mother when I was a child and spent my life without one. I can only imagine what it must have been like. I hope you can understand that, because if you don’t, and want to be mad at me or blame me in any way, then I should just get my coat on and fuck right off.’ She swallowed. ‘The only thing that keeps me here is my boy. My son. Our Tony. If it wasn’t for him, I would just disappear and reinvent myself somewhere far away. But I can’t. He doesn’t even know I’ve left yet. He’s in boarding school in the Borders.’ She blinked, turning away. ‘It’s only him that’s kept me going all these years.’

  Kerry said nothing, let her talk. She’d wanted to see what she was made of. If Sharon had come in here and surrendered, ready to take any crap that was dished out to her, then she was not to be trusted. But she could see she was angry and wronged, and fighting back. Kerry liked that. She had the gut feeling that she was telling the truth. She knew that this woman was not naive. She would be well aware that if the Casey family wanted to, her journey would end right here in Glasgow, today. Kerry’s instinct was to sit tight and listen. She watched as Sharon fiddled with the gold bracelet encrusted with what looked like real diamonds, matching the bigger rock on her finger. However she had come this far, she looked like she’d been well paid.

  Kerry took a breath and let out a sigh. She uncrossed her legs and leaned in a little, fixing Sharon’s eyes with hers.

  ‘Fine.’ She nodded. ‘I didn’t invite you here to humiliate you, Sharon, or to give you more grief than you seem to have already had with Knuckles Boyle. I’m sorry about your son. It seems to be a real mess right now, and you know that Knuckles will be all over the shop looking for you. Tell me – would he have any suspicion you’d be heading up here?’