When I placed her back on her feet she flopped in a heap on the deck. She let out a whimper, and for the first time, her eyes seemed to focus on me. I bundled her below into the forward cabin and laid her on the mattress. Quickly, I returned to the van, gathered my spare clothes and my stash of drugs, locked up and went back on board. Aisling lay with her eyes open, watching my every move. She didn’t look particularly frightened, which could only be good news for me. I removed the tape from her mouth, raised her head and put a bottle of water to her lips. She managed a few sips, but I saw her eyes roll in her head. She was still groggy. I laid her on her back, reached for a blanket and spread it over her.
There was nothing to do now but wait, wait until I felt like meeting up with Tara. I had switched on a small light in the cabin, and for the first time since I’d snatched her I took a proper look at this beautiful girl. Aisling had wonderfully pure skin and the most luxurious soft and dark hair. It took a lot of effort to prise myself from the bed and to leave her be.
I slid the door closed and set about making some tea. It was a bloody cold night. I boiled the kettle on the gas stove and poured some water into a mug containing a teabag. It felt great, a strong brew and a handful of chocolate biscuits. There wasn’t a sound from the cabin, only the lapping of seawater against the hull and the odd thud as the boat knocked against the bumper of the harbour wall. I couldn’t help congratulating myself on how well things had gone, so far. I was so looking forward to hooking up with Tara again and chuckled to myself that I had the most delicious of prizes already on board Mother Freedom. Hell, I had time to kill.
I finished my tea and slid open the cabin door to check on Aisling. Her eyes open, she lay motionless. I couldn’t help myself. I pulled the blanket away and swooned at the vision before me. Slowly, I removed every piece of her clothing and, finally, did what I like doing most.
Not once did she put up a fight. Such a cosy moment.
Chapter 65
Craig dropped Aidan home, but before going to his own place he fancied some time with his girl. He needed release. He needed soothing. And Tanya knew what he liked most.
His nerves still jangled. He was as much disturbed by his dressing-down from Rab McHugh as he was by the confrontation with the guys from the Tallinn Crew. Fitter and McHugh had made them look like amateurs. Already, he’d convinced himself that there would be no more trouble, nor any competition from those particular Estonians.
He couldn’t help smiling, that he was now the appointed leader of the Vipers. Appointed, not by the other lads in the crew, but by their masters from Belfast. If they did as they were told, got things right, then they could be earning big time.
Ryan Boswell had been a daft prick. Firstly, for getting involved with the daughter of their boss and then by trying to rip him off, creaming off the profits and setting up other deals. Now he realised that Ryan had got what he deserved. It was the price to pay if you wanted to live by the big boys’ rules.
Craig left his car by his block of flats and walked the two hundred yards to Tanya’s house. If her folks were home, they could always go to her room. He was feeling better already. It was a miracle that the Estonians had let them both go free without a scratch. Thinking about it now, it was a mad thing to have done.
But still he worried over who had shot Tyler. He just hoped that was an end to it. As he turned a corner onto the path leading to Tanya’s house, he glimpsed a figure a few yards behind him. He hadn’t heard the footsteps. Craig turned to face the stranger, but in the darkness he couldn’t make out who it was. As he was about to turn away, he saw two hands rise, taking aim with a gun.
He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Before he could bolt for cover, two shots were fired and he tumbled over a low wall, into a garden. For the second time in one night his heart thumped, but this time it was outdone by the burning sensation in his neck. Sprawled on his back, he peered into the night sky, aware of the blood seeping from his mouth. The darkened figure stood over him and Craig’s eyes met the eyes of his killer. Now he had all the answers to his questions.
He knew nothing of the next two bullets breaking into his chest.
Chapter 66
She jerked awake. Startled for a second, she quickly took in her surroundings. It was dark still, nothing to see beyond her misted windscreen. She rubbed at the back of her neck. Stiff and cold, thirsty and hungry, in need of a pee, but above all Tara was worried sick about Aisling.
Why hadn’t he come? Why no contact? She checked her watch. Nearly four in the morning. She lifted the mobile that he’d given her. Nothing, no recent messages and precious little signal. Her tears resumed, her head throbbed and she couldn’t help visualising her friend lying helpless, bound, gagged and drugged in the back of his van.
Then, she noticed spots of light appearing on her windscreen. They moved across the glass. She switched on the engine and got the heater and wipers to clear the mist. She tried to focus beyond the screen and look into the far distance. A car perhaps, rounding the bends in the road, its light momentarily vanishing then reappearing with increased intensity. It was a car, or maybe a van. She hoped that it was Guy at last. Surely, at this hour, it must be him. The driver had his full beam on, and she squinted from the glare as the vehicle approached. She heard the sound of the wheels on the road and watched, forlorn, as the car sped by.
A silly notion surfaced again, the idea of driving around the countryside to look for a van. Or a car? Or what? She had no idea.
Pushing her door open, she felt a rush of cold air that helped to revive her. She climbed out, leaving the engine idling, and at first remained by the door, gazing into the blackness. Soon, feeling a tad braver, she paced forwards, leaving the door open and the interior light on to provide some comfort. The only sounds were of the car’s engine and her boots on the tarmac, taking tentative steps into a blanket of darkness. She couldn’t even be sure that to her right the lake was still there, or that to the road lay to her left.
She had to pee.
Why didn’t he call? Surely he was convinced by now that she had brought no one with her, that she had told no one of where she was going or what she was doing.
Another set of lights swept across a bend in the road, near the end of the lake where she had driven a few hours earlier. Strange that people were still up and around at this hour, going about their business. She watched the lights snake around the bends, fast approaching the lay-by where she lingered. Suddenly, she felt vulnerable, being no longer in the relative safety of her car. Glancing behind her, she saw the dim interior light. It was forty yards away from her now, and she could hear a vehicle approaching. Even if it wasn’t Guy, the driver would see her car, maybe notice that it was empty. Then bright lights caught her full in the face and she raised a hand to protect her eyes. The driver had surely seen her, the proverbial rabbit in the headlights.
She heard the car slow. It must be him. Suddenly, it slipped from the road into the lay-by and braked to a halt beside her. She wanted to run, but this was what she had been waiting for. James Guy. A monster come to claim his next prey.
So she remained motionless, powerless to run, to react, to scream. It was a large silver car, a Mercedes or a BMW, she didn’t know. The window on the passenger side lowered and a voice spoke.
‘You all right, love? Have you broken down?’
A man, around fifty she guessed, leaned across from the driver’s side as she bent to gaze inside the car. Relief and fear collided in her head. Tears filled her eyes. He seemed normal, bald with glasses, neatly dressed in shirt and tie. But what was normal? Could there be more than one madman on the prowl, in this place, at this hour?
‘No, I’m fine,’ she stuttered. ‘Long drive, taking a break.’
Now she wanted him to go, to leave her alone. And suddenly there was the new fear, that somehow Guy could be watching her. Right now. What would he think if he saw her beside this car? What would he do to Aisling if he thought Tara was talking to a copper? Thoug
ht she had brought help with her?
‘OK, love. Just thought I would check. Take care.’
‘Thank you.’
She cried as he drove off. The rear lights vanished as the car rounded a bend. Her Good Samaritan had disappeared into the gloom. She ran back to her car, climbed inside and locked the doors. In despair, she fell over the steering wheel, praying for an end to this anguish.
Chapter 67
I lay beside her in the bunk, rocking gently as the hull bobbed on the swell. Soothing, it was. Such a lovely thing, lying beside me, I couldn’t help my hands roaming her soft skin. Couldn’t help having another go with her, too. I’d be knackered when this weekend was over.
For a while I lay there, trying to think of a way to keep Aisling. A sex slave sort of thing. Certainly I’d never had such a glamorous woman, a real girlie girl. I’d read stories of these blokes in America, where some fella had managed to keep a girl prisoner for fifteen years or so. She’d even had a couple of children to him. Can’t say I would be into that, but I wouldn’t mind giving it a go for a year or two.
I’d really love it to be Tara, but as I’ve said before, once the peelers in Liverpool realise that Tara is missing they’re going to tear the place apart looking for her, and they’ll certainly come after me. So I have to get rid of her before the weekend is out, get back to my normal life and show that I had nothing to do with it. I suppose, for the time being, I could keep Aisling on Mother Freedom, but then I would have to keep her drugged and tied up all the time.
No, I reckoned I needed a wee cottage somewhere, like in the mountains where I could call with her when I’m feeling horny or when Kirsty is pissed at me or she has her time of the month. A bolt hole, eh?
When I’d had another taste of Aisling, I climbed off the bunk and got dressed in the dark. It was time to fetch Tara.
Before leaving, I made sure that Aisling was securely bound at the hands and feet, and I tied her hands to the bunk. Didn’t want her to go wandering about the place. She was conscious and looking around her, although I’m not sure if she was really with it. I left her naked but covered with a couple of blankets. I didn’t want her to die of cold while I was out. Rather than replace the gaffer tape on her mouth, I thought it wiser to slip her another roofie, to help keep her quiet. I didn’t have many left, though. Certainly wouldn’t have enough to kill both Aisling and Tara. Fucking curse that Janek got himself shot. I really needed a supply of china white for this weekend.
It was three o’clock in the morning when I set out for Llyn Ogwen. Still pitch dark on the mountain road, but I was confident that my wee cop would be there, waiting patiently. I was less sure whether she would have the fucking cavalry with her as back up. I was going to have to be careful in my approach to the car park. The A5 was mostly deserted on the run up to the lake. I knew I could take my time, although I wanted Tara on Mother Freedom safe and sound before it was completely light. That also meant I could get away from Penrhyn and out to sea in the early morning.
The car park came upon me quicker than I was expecting, once I’d reached the start of the lake’s shore. And then, I spotted the car, all alone in the lay-by.
Dear love her. I didn’t even slow the van. Didn’t want to raise her suspicion that I was about to join her. Instead, I sped past and continued along the road a few miles, until I reached a junction. All the while I kept an eye out for other vehicles, just in case her mates were hiding behind every hedge along the way. Crafty fuckers, these Liverpool peelers. No telling what they would do if Tara had tipped them off.
I couldn’t see far beyond either side of the road in the darkness, but I was reasonably confident that there were no surprises waiting for me. Just to be sure, I drove past the lay-by one more time, turned around again at the next opportunity and drove back to meet her. I pulled up so that the front of my van was right against the bonnet of her car. In my headlights, I could see her squinting out at me.
Shit, before I could do much more, except switch off the engine, she was out of her car and banging on my window with her wee hands.
‘Where’s Aisling? What have you done with her?’
I could hear her shouts through the glass. She jumped backwards as I thrust open my door, and it caught her on the chest. Nearly went on her hoop. I stepped down from the van. A barrage of punches rained down on me. Then she tried to open the side door, yelling all the while. ‘Aisling? Are you in there?’
I let her pull at the door, it saved her from punching me. She slid it open and looked inside. Little did she know she was doing half my job for me. I grabbed her, one hand at her neck, the other at her ass, and shoved her inside. She could yell the place down for all I cared, there was not a sinner about to hear her. Finally, though, I had to slap her. Well, she was fighting me to get out of the van again. She dropped to the mattress, and I flipped her on her back and sat astride her at the hips. She writhed and screamed and spat at me. Feisty wee thing, but I’d always known that. As she thumped at my chest I gripped both her wrists, leaned forwards and forced her arms above her head. I pinned her with one hand and pulled a cable tie from my pocket. It was bloody difficult trying to secure her hands while the wee bitch was yelling in my ear.
‘Tara, shut the fuck up, love. You’re doing my head in.’
‘Tell me what you’ve done with Aisling!’
‘Oh, you don’t want to hear what Aisling and I have been doing.’
She screamed in my face.
‘You bastard!’
I ignored the insult and finished securing her wrists with the cable tie. Fighting off her kicks and her struggling, I got her ankles nice and tight with another tie, and pulled off her boots. Then, as I’d done with her mate, I popped a roofie in her gob. Wee bitch spat it out, and in the dark I couldn’t find it. This time I squeezed her jaw with one hand and forced another pill through her pursed but open lips. I pulled a piece of gaffer tape from the roof and stuck it over her mouth, but I knew with her hands tied in front of her she would soon rip it off. I had to sit with her until the roofie began to do its work.
As she relaxed I undid her hands, rolled her over and secured them again behind her back. Ten minutes later she was almost asleep. I was tempted to have a go then and there, but to be truthful by then she was a bit of a sight. Her hair was a mess, and her makeup was smudged. I would prefer to have her when she was looking more her usual ravishing self. Besides, having enjoyed double helpings of her mate, and with all the excitement of the day and night, I was feeling a bit punctured.
I climbed out of the van and went to Tara’s car. Two mobile phones were lying on the passenger seat. I lifted them out and threw both of the phones as far into the lake as I could manage. Slipping the keys from the ignition, I closed the door, locked it and threw the keys into the drink as well.
Job done, we were off to the seaside.
Chapter 68
Murray awoke beside his girlfriend. Trudy Mitchell slept quietly, her left arm lying across his chest. His first thought, however, was for Tara. He lifted his phone from the bedside table and scrolled through his messages. Why hadn’t she responded to his texts? It wasn’t urgent, but it wasn’t like her not to reply.
He slid from the bed, went to the bathroom and a few minutes later was getting dressed. When Trudy awoke, her blonde hair splayed over the pillows, her nakedness revealed from the waist up, she watched him dress with a wistful smile on her face.
‘Where are you going? Come back to bed.’
‘Sorry, have to call at the station this morning.’
‘But I thought you had the weekend off?’
He finished tying his laces then leaned over and kissed her. She responded by slipping her tongue inside his mouth and her arms around his neck. This made it difficult for him to leave her. She moaned and tried to pull him down upon her, but he gently yet firmly drew himself away.
‘I do. I just have one thing to sort out and then I’ll be back. We can go for lunch, if you like.’
He w
as out of the bedroom before she had the chance to reply.
*
At St Anne Street he wanted to check for any news of Carly McHugh, although since DCI Weir had demanded she be released, he didn’t quite know what he expected to hear. Instead, he learned of the death of Craig Lewis, a leading member of the Treadwater Vipers. The twenty-four year-old had survived the shooting until reaching hospital, but had succumbed soon after. It seemed now that Weir had been correct that a gang war had erupted on Merseyside. Their investigation into the murder of Ryan Boswell was enmeshed in these latest killings. First Tyler Finlay, then three members of an Estonian outfit in Tranmere and now Craig Lewis. It would be difficult to separate the Boswell investigation from the others, and yet they had been told to keep their noses out by DCI Weir. The one fly in the ointment for the Scot was that Tweedy’s team was still officially in charge of the Ryan Boswell investigation.
Murray sat at his desk drinking vending-machine coffee and munching his breakfast of two chocolate bars. When he’d seen enough on his computer screen, he sent another text to Tara. Whether she was having a relaxing weekend or not, he knew that Tara would want to be informed about the latest developments. He realised also that she firmly believed a local gang feud was not why Ryan Boswell had been killed. Tara insisted that Carly McHugh held the key to that particular mystery. Anything that had occurred since Boswell’s death would, in time, prove either Tara or DCI Weir right. It wouldn’t look good for the acerbic DCI if, having released her from custody, Carly McHugh was found to be in any way responsible for the murder of Craig Lewis.
Murray switched off his screen, checked his phone for a reply from Tara then hurried back to his flat where — hopefully — Trudy had kept the bed warm.
Lethal Dose; Lethal Justice; Lethal Mind Page 72