Hard Cases (A Ryan Kyd Omnibus)

by Roger Hurn

  I squeezed the Mazda in behind it and then went running up the drive and hammered hard on the door. I had no idea as to who would answer or what I was walking into, but I had a feeling that whatever was about to happen wouldn’t be good.

  Natasha opened the door and I saw right away that she was wearing the amber necklace. For a second she looked at me as if she’d never seen me before. Then she said coldly, ‘I thought you were never going to come.’

  I was expecting a warmer welcome, but I let it go. ‘Yeah, sorry, but I had some problems that I had to deal with first.’

  She shrugged. ‘It doesn’t matter, Ryan. You’re here now.’

  ‘Yeah, and so is Robert Hapgood by the look of it. How long’s he been here?’

  Suddenly Natasha was in my arms and holding me tight. ‘Oh god, Ryan, he is such a grubby little man. He came here demanding I give him back the necklace. He just doesn’t seem to understand that it belongs to me.’ Then she pushed me back and held me at arm’s length. ‘He said it was through you that he knew it was me who was the thief. So did you betray me, Ryan?’

  ‘No way, but he must’ve overheard the call you made to me last night. I was at his place when you phoned.’

  Her face lit up and she kissed me hard on the lips. ‘Oh, I should’ve known I could rely on you, Ryan. Everyone I’ve ever known has always let me down – but not you.’ Then the smile vanished as quickly as it had appeared and she gave a bitter little laugh. ‘Even my bloody mother made me go to that doctor for years. But that’s OK. I’ve got what’s mine now – thanks to you.’

  Her smile switched on again, but I was starting to feel more than a bit uneasy. I knew she was going to go ape shit when I sided with Hapgood, but the fact was the guy was right. She did have to give the necklace back. I decided the best plan was to just get on with it.

  ‘So, let’s go and see Mr Hapgood. Where is he?’

  ‘He’s in the living room.’ She fixed me with those gold flecked green eyes. ‘I need you to help me get rid of him.’

  I blew out my cheeks. ‘Well, let’s just take it one step at a time,’ I said firmly. ‘I’m afraid this is going to be way more difficult to sort out than you think, Natasha.’

  I stepped across the threshold into a narrow flagstone hallway. There was a steep flight of wooden stairs at the end of it leading to the upper story of the cottage. There were also a couple of doors off the passageway. Natasha nodded at the one immediately to my left. ‘He’s in there.’

  I opened the door and stepped in. Hapgood was sitting in an armchair, but I didn’t bother to say hello. There was no point. He hadn’t looked too good when I last saw him, but now he looked even worse. His eyes were open, but his neck was lolling at an unnatural angle. The guy was definitely dead.

  I felt my stomach clench, but I tried to stay calm. Natasha came and stood by my side. She took hold of my hand and squeezed it. I swallowed hard, but I let her keep holding my hand. I knew it was only a matter of time before she freaked out, and I wanted to find out exactly how Hapgood had died first. When I spoke I tried to make my voice gentle and unthreatening as if I was coaxing a five year old to admit to some petty bit of naughtiness.

  ‘OK, Natasha, so tell me what happened to Robert.’

  She frowned like I was asking her a really dumb question.

  ‘He got what he deserved and now I need you to help me get rid of him.’

  I bit on my upper lip to stop myself from yelling at her. ‘Right,’ I said. ‘But how about you just tell me what happened first.’

  She pouted and looked scarily sulky. ‘He came banging on my door in a right state. He shouted at me and told me he knew I’d taken the necklace. He said unless I gave it back right away he’d call the police and have me put in prison.’ She sighed heavily. ‘Honestly Ryan, he wouldn’t listen to anything I said even though I told him my stupid bitch of a cousin had no right to put the necklace up for auction in the first place.’

  I gave her a sort of non-committal half nod. ‘Were you wearing the necklace when Robert arrived?’

  She shook her head. ‘No, luckily I wasn’t otherwise I think he’d have just ripped it from me.’

  I frowned slightly. ‘So how come he’s ended up with a broken neck? Was it an accident?’

  She laughed coquettishly and squeezed my hand again. It chilled my blood. ‘Oh don’t be silly, Ry, of course it wasn’t. He barged his way into the cottage and said he was going to tear it apart until he found the necklace. So I said he didn’t need to do that. I’d give it to him. You see I was pretending that his threats had made me change my mind about keeping it.’ She paused and smiled at the memory. ‘He was pathetically easy to fool, but then you know what they say about people believing what they want to hear.’

  I did. I’ve been guilty of precisely that more times than you can shake a stick at and, most recently, with Natasha. I didn’t share this with her though.

  ‘Anyway, I took him upstairs to the bedroom. I went inside and fetched the necklace while he stood at the top of the stairs. I handed it to him and he was so intent on looking at it that it was the easiest thing in the world for me to hook my leg around his and give him a real shove in the chest. He fell over backwards and his neck snapped like a twig as he tumbled down the stairs.’ Her forehead creased and she scowled. ‘It was a bit of a struggle to drag him into the living room and put him in the armchair. But you’re here now so carrying his body won’t be a problem.’

  I cleared my throat to give myself time to think, but I could have cleared it for all eternity and I still wouldn’t have had enough time. ‘Err … Natasha, listen to me. You’re not thinking straight. In fact, I think you’re seriously unwell.’ Her green eyes turned into hard, cold emeralds. They still held the light, but it was the light from a world I had never been to. I could feel any hold I had over her slipping away.

  ‘But don’t worry, I can get you the help you need.’ I held her shoulders and looked intently at her. ‘We need to phone the police and tell them what’s happened here. That’ll be the first step on your road to recovery.’

  It sounded like complete bullshit even to me. I tensed up waiting for her reaction. She reached up and gently removed my hands from her shoulders. She sniffed and opened her mouth slightly like she was about to speak, but wasn’t quite sure what to say. Then her shoulders slumped, her face crumpled and she looked about twelve years old. ‘You’re right. I shouldn’t have killed him. He was a stupid man, but he was only doing his job.’ She rubbed at her forehead with her hand. ‘No, it was my cousin Sally I should have killed. Now I’ll never get the chance.’ Her voice was etched with shadows and regret.

  I pulled out my mobile phone, but she reached out her hand and touched my arm. ‘No, I’ll call the police, Ryan. I think it’ll be better coming from me.’ She sounded infinitely weary and so I nodded and slipped my phone back into my pocket. As I did so she grabbed a wine bottle from the coffee table and swung it at my head. I tried to duck, but still received a tremendous whack across my temple. The room froze like I was looking at a sepia photograph and then it slowly started to turn black.

  Chapter 21

  As my lights were going out, I was convinced she’d killed me too. Obviously she hadn’t, but I’d suffered a trauma to the old noggin that still gives me blinding headaches from time to time. I was out cold for about half an hour or so and came round to find my head being cradled in Ms Berry’s lap. Believe me, I’ve woken up with it in far worse places. I had a searing headache and felt sick as a rabid dog, but I resisted the urge to vomit. I didn’t think she’d appreciate it if I threw up all over her designer dress. She stared down at me with those frosty blue eyes and said, ‘So finally the kraken wakes. When I walked in here I thought you were as dead as poor old Robert, but then you twitched and called for your mother so I gave you the benefit of the doubt. Though, I’d say you are still on the critical list so don’t celebrate too soon.’

  Ms Berry didn’t exactly overflow with the milk of h
uman kindness, but her deadpan delivery was somehow comforting. It made me think that maybe I’d live after all.

  I tried to sit up, but my head felt like someone had emptied a ton of concrete inside it and I couldn’t lift it more than a couple of inches.

  ‘Whoa. Stay still, Mr Private Eye, and listen.’

  I had no choice but to do exactly as she said. But then as Maureen was a dominatrix in her spare time, I guess she was used to blokes obeying her without question. I was just glad she wasn’t wearing the outfit. In my delicate state of health, I think that would definitely have finished me off.

  Maureen spoke briskly and matter-of-factly. There wasn’t the slightest trace of sorrow in her voice for Robert. I suspect the only thing that upset her was the fact that she’d arrived too late to get her hands on the necklace. Somehow I couldn’t help thinking that Natasha would have found Ms Berry an altogether tougher adversary than the late auctioneer.

  ‘I’ve called 999 so an ambulance is on its way – as are the police. Now here’s the story we are going to tell. You saw a woman being mugged in the street late on Christmas Eve. She hired you on the spot to retrieve her property, to whit one antique necklace that she told you was a family heirloom.’

  ‘That’s all true,’ I said.

  She sighed like an exasperated infant teacher. ‘Yes, but this bit isn’t so stop interrupting and pay attention. You tracked down the necklace and the bag it was in. A couple of bouncers you know had bought from a junkie. They thought the necklace looked valuable so they were going to take it to the police after they’d finished work to see if there was a reward for its safe return. However, when you turned up and told them the bag belonged to your client they handed it over like the good citizens they are. You returned it to your client who thanked you, gave you two hundred quid in cash and then vanished into the night.’

  ‘Yes but …’

  She shushed me. ‘But then the more you thought about it the more suspicious you became so you contacted me, an old friend, for my expert opinion. I said it sounded just like the necklace my boyfriend, Robert, was putting under the hammer in January. So together we went to see him and found him tied up. Earlier that evening the woman had tricked her way into his house and then forced him to hand over the keys and combination to his safe at the Auction House.’

  ‘Yes, but how did she force him to do that?’

  Maureen harrumphed again. ‘She had a knife and was apparently under the influence of drink or drugs, that’s how.’ She cocked her head to one side and gave me one of her rare smiles. You couldn’t have used it to warm your hands, but it was a start. ‘Oh yes, and, as I shall tearfully assert, he was a gentle soul who was terrified of physical violence.’

  My head hurt too much for me to argue.

  ‘The woman had told Robert she was Natasha Milford, the cousin of Sally Shapley, the woman who owned the necklace and she was prepared to stop at nothing to prevent the sale going ahead. As I said, Robert thought she was high on drugs or something so he went along with her demands.’

  I tried to speak, but Maureen second guessed what I was going to say.

  ‘Robert didn’t alert the police because he didn’t want to bring shame onto the family or jeopardise the sale. Instead, he made up his mind to go to Natasha’s house this morning and reason with her. He felt sure she’d behaved as she did because she was under the influence of powerful narcotics that gave her dutch courage, and now she’d had time to sober up, she would already be regretting her actions. This was against my advice and so, when he didn’t return, I became worried and asked you to go and investigate the situation. Then, when I heard nothing from you either, I decided to come down here myself and, to my horror, I found my darling Robert dead and you unconscious, but no sign of the bad, mad and dangerous to know Natasha Milford.’

  A fog was whirling around in my brain and I was finding it hard to grasp what Maureen was saying, but I thought I saw a flaw in her story. ‘What about Chet and Delroy and Ellie the junkie? Oh yeah, and Mo the taxi driver. He drove me and Natasha to my gaff on Christmas Eve. They’ve got to sing from the same hymn sheet.’

  ‘Oh, didn’t I mention that the first number I called was DK’s? He really doesn’t want or need his involvement in this business to be common knowledge so he’s making sure all four are on message. Only Ellie had nothing to do with this. It was Ritchie who sold the bouncers the bag.’ The wintry grin was back. ‘I understand he’s dead of an overdose and, as the cliché has it, dead men tell no tales.’

  Chapter 22

  The police and the ambulance crew turned up pretty much at the same time and Maureen gave a star performance as the grief stricken girlfriend. She didn’t overdo it, but bit back the tears and gave her account of events so convincingly that even I almost believed her.

  The paramedics reckoned I was too concussed to be questioned, but I insisted on saying my piece to the DI and her DS before they carted me off to hospital. Hard pressed coppers like people who co-operate and make their lives easier, and the fact that I was ex job helped. I told them that Natasha had admitted to me that she’d murdered Robert and had threatened to do the same to her cousin. Then, when I’d gone to call the police she’d thumped me with the bottle. The paramedics said I was lucky that the blow hadn’t seen me off as well, but that I would have to stay in hospital for tests and observation. So, all in all, this Christmas was turning out to be a real humdinger.

  *

  Later that day, when I was tucked up in my bed in the North Kent Hospital, Maureen came to see me. She didn’t bring grapes.

  ‘The police have swallowed the story,’ she said by way of an opening gambit. I would have preferred a concerned inquiry about the state of my health, but this was Ms Berry we’re talking about not Florence Nightingale. ‘They’ve put a guard on Sally’s house and an APB out on Natasha. Apparently, she’s vanished off the face of the Earth, but she won’t be able to hide out for long.’

  I didn’t bother to point out that an APB is a term used by US cops not the local plod, but I got the point she was making. Mind you, I had absolutely no faith that either the police or the general public would spot Natasha if she’d gone to ground somewhere. In my experience, most people are totally unobservant and anyway who notices a face in the crowd? Not only that, but Natasha had already demonstrated she had a flair for disguise. No, as I saw it, the police would only nab Natasha if she lost it completely and went for her cousin come hell or high water. However, given her homicidal state of mind, I figured that this was the most likely scenario. The rage inside her was a ticking time bomb and it was highly unlikely that she’d be able to contain it for too much longer. I just hoped the officers on duty knew who and what they were dealing with.

  I contemplated contacting Carly and my missus, but I decided against it. My head was thumping like it was the star guest at a steam hammer convention and I didn’t have the strength to deal with either of the two significant women in my life. I didn’t think either would fuss over me, though, to be honest, I had no idea how they’d react – other than that it wouldn’t be straightforward. But one thing was for certain, I just couldn’t cope with the complicated mess of emotions that seeing or talking to them would stir up on all sides. The bottom line is I’m a bloke and, like most blokes, I like to keep life simple. Sadly, it just never seems to work out that way.

  Being in the hospital was driving me stir crazy. All I wanted was to go home and not have nurses waking me up to give me sleeping pills or orderlies bringing me meals I hadn’t ordered. So, as soon as the docs said my GCS was up to speed and that I hadn’t suffered any lasting damage – apart from a fractured skull that would heal itself in its own good time – I checked myself out. They weren’t happy about it but, in my opinion, the less time you can spend in hospitals the better – they’re full of sick people and raging bloody MRSA infections. I figured I’d be way better off in my own bed. My house may not be the cleanest gaff in the world, but at least the germs there knew me and left m
e alone.

  I phoned Mo and he came to fetch me in his taxi. It wasn’t the cheapest option, but I wanted a chin wag about what he’d told the police.

  ‘Blimey, Ryan,’ he said when he saw me with my head bandage on. ‘What’s that mate – your tribute to Terry Butcher, the lion of Stockholm?’

  ‘Yeah, very droll, Mo, but can you just take me home without the side splitting observational comedy.’

  ‘Yeah, but mate, that woman you was with, she did this to you, yeah?’

  I grunted at him.

  ‘Right then. So that was no joke, eh? Maybe I’ll stick to driving a cab and leave the detecting game to you after all.’

  Mo helped me into his taxi as I was feeling so weak and wobbly on my pins that a five year old could have mugged me. Then, when I was settled and the world had stopped looping the loop, I asked him if the police had paid him a call.

  ‘Yeah, but first I had a visit from a couple of DK Kapoor’s thugs. They told me I’d better keep my trap shut about that bird you was with or they’d take it out on my missus and the kids.’ His amiable mug creased into a scowl. ‘Those guys are bang out of order to say stuff like that. I’d cover for you anyway ‘cos you’re a mate.’

  I agreed with him, but that’s the way DK Kapoor does things. He puts his trust in intimidation not friendship. I tell myself it’s his loss and that he’ll die old, lonely and unloved, but then, the way things are going, so will I – though given the state of my head, I wasn’t taking bets on the “me dying old” bit.

  Mo went on to say that he’d had a very brief visit from Detective Inspector Knacker and her sidekick, but they’d been matter-of-fact and had accepted what he’d told them without putting him through the wringer.