“I do apologise,” said Ryan. “I got carried away in the moment.”
“No Ryan, it’s okay,” said Rachel. “You don’t need to protect me. I was responsible Ashley. I…lost it a bit.”
“It’s not the first time,” said Ashley. “And it’s not acceptable. Harry did not deserve that.”
“I know and I’m sorry but I couldn’t help myself.”
“I’ve noticed you’ve been like this ever since Battler died,” he said more gently.
She nodded and bit her lip.
“I’m very sorry about that but if anyone finds out what we’re doing we will all go to prison. Fortunately Harry has gone away to stay with family in Dover for a while, he won’t let on but you were lucky this time. Your reputations are fierce but one day you may come across someone who will report you, Laws or not. This is not what we’re about. We’re dispensing real justice. What was done to Harry was overkill, plain and simple and it is not acceptable.”
“I know Ashley and I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to do it.”
“I’m well aware of that Rachel but I must insist you take a backseat in this work until you’ve got over your grief.”
Her eyes turned black. “You can’t do that.”
“Rachel,” said Ryan as she continued to glare at Ashley. “He’s right. You should take a step back for a while.”
Her pitch black gaze was turned on him. “Traitor,” she hissed.
“No, I’m not,” he said, disguising his hurt. “You’re in pain Rachel and you need to deal with it.”
“I’m fine,” she snapped.
“You recall Harry Nelson’s expression when you’d finished with him?” Ryan regretted his harshness when her face crumpled but she had to understand the danger she was putting them all in. “Take a step back and leave this to myself and Bruiser, just until you’ve finished dealing with your grief. You deserve to sit back and relax for a while.”
“Don’t you see, I need to keep busy because if I’m not then…”
“You think about what happened?”
She nodded. “I don’t want to feel the pain, so I try to push it away.”
“That’s not going to help. You need to confront it.”
She nodded. “I think it’s time to give in and get counselling. But I can’t tell them everything.”
“You don’t need to. Just tell them about Battler.”
“Fine,” she sighed. She wrapped her arms around his neck and rested her head on his shoulder. “Thank you.”
He kissed the top of her head. “You’re welcome.”
As it appeared they’d forgotten he was even there, Ashley cleared his throat. “Right,” he said. “I think I’ve made my point so I’ll be off. I’ve got to oversee my officers who are now wasting valuable time and resources searching the park for imaginary muggers.”
“Thank you Ashley,” said Rachel. “And I can promise it won’t happen again.”
“I do hope so Rachel, for all our sakes.”
He turned for the door and released a cry before staggering forwards several paces, saving himself from falling by grabbing onto the door. Ryan had to look down at the floor so Ashley wouldn’t see his grin.
“That bloody cat of yours hates me,” exclaimed Ashley.
Ryan scooped up the purring ball of ginger fur and stroked Teddy’s head, who basked in the attention. “You should look where you’re going.”
“It’s not the first time he’s tripped me up and the last time I came here he sank his claws into my leg.”
“Because you sat on his chair.”
“He has his own chair?”
Ryan nodded.
Ashley muttered something that to Ryan sounded like, “Spoilt furry git.”
Ryan showed Ashley out, who was limping slightly and returned to find his wife on the phone. Teddy, after licking his hand struggled in his arms. Ryan released him and he vanished from the room, chasing an imaginary moth.
After a brief conversation Rachel hung up and smiled. “I’ve booked an appointment with a grief counsellor.”
“That was quick.”
“Ashley brought it home just how much trouble we’d be in if it ever got out what we’re doing. Our kids have been through enough, they don’t need us stirring things up again, not when everything is finally peaceful. I have to keep it together. Tracey recommended a counsellor she saw when her brother went missing, she said she’s really good. Obviously I can’t tell her the whole story but what happened to Battler is public knowledge, so I can tell her the relevant parts.”
“I hope she helps.” He cupped her face in his hands. “I hate seeing you in pain.”
“I’ll get there, promise,” she said with a tight smile.
CHAPTER 8
Dwyer had one last visit to make before leaving Spain and that was to the cocktail bar Amber was so fond of frequenting. When he showed the sleazy, greasy barman her photo his eyes lit up and his lips curled into a lascivious smile that told him everything he needed to know about their relationship.
“Yes, I know her,” he said smoothly. “I know pretty lady very well, if you know what I mean,” he winked.
“Yes,” he sighed. “Even the stool I’m sitting on knows what you mean. When did you last see her?”
“Not for a long time. Seven maybe eight months.”
“Did you ever see her with anyone?”
“Yes, she like the men very much, especially us Spanish men. Sometimes she go home with them, sometimes not.”
He showed him the photo of Ray McGinnis. “Did you ever see her with this man?”
The barman frowned at the image. “I not see her with him but I see him in here.”
“How many times did he come in here?”
“A few. I notice he watch the pretty lady but he never talk to her. I not think this strange as a lot of men look at her.”
“Did you ever see him follow her?”
“I not notice but this place get very busy, especially with beautiful English girls.”
Dwyer wrinkled his nose, wishing it was legal to nick someone for being a squalid turd. “Did you ever see these two men?” he said, producing mug shots of Mikey and Jez.
“No,” he replied dismissively before picking up a glass and polishing it. He wasn’t half as interested in photos of men as he was of women.
DS Miller felt cold down to her very bones but it was nothing to do with the weather, which was rather mild. It was to do with the person she was meeting. Yesterday, when she’d received that phone call it had seemed like a good idea, she was so sick of Dwyer lording it over her, treating her like a glorified secretary just because she was the only female officer left in his unit, the others having left because of his blatant sexism. It had been alright when DCI Taylor had been their governor as he’d done a good job at keeping the little toad in line. The power had gone to Dwyer’s tiny brain and he was doing what the hell he liked. She didn’t want to transfer, she loved working on the Organised Crime Unit, or at least she’d used to but the resentment was steadily building up and the offer she’d been given had sounded too good to pass up. However, now she was standing in the underpass at night with planes roaring overhead her bottle was starting to crash.
Just as she’d made up her mind to hurry back home, a shadowy figure appeared before her.
“Thanks for coming DS Miller.”
Miller’s entire body crawled with unease. Despite her experience with violent criminals she’d never met one in the same league as Jules Maguire. Briefly rendered speechless, she just nodded back.
“I apologise for the surroundings,” continued Jules. “But the proximity of the airport and all its tech will send any bug haywire.”
Miller took a deep breath, hoping her voice came out strong and confident. “Good idea.” She didn’t sound quite as assertive as she’d hoped but at least her voice didn’t tremble.
“I’ll get to the point because neither of us wants to hang around in this pissy alley. I want to discuss a m
utual thorn in our sides. I trust you know to whom I refer?”
Miller nodded. She was surprised by how articulate and intelligent Jules sounded. Rumours abounded about her massive IQ but she hadn’t expected them to be true.
“I suggest joining forces to rid ourselves of this thorn.”
“What do you mean by rid ourselves?” said Miller.
“It’s well known Dwyer fits people up.”
“Yes but he’s clever. No one’s ever been able to prove anything. Neither does he tell us anything unless he really has to when it comes to your family, he knows you have eyes and ears at the station.”
“That sounds like the little weasel.”
“He’s obsessed with your family, everyone talks about it. The walls of his office are plastered with photos of you all, including the ones who aren’t in the business.”
“His brother was an obsessive too and look what happened there.”
“Thankfully he’s out of my hair for a couple of days. He’s gone to Spain.”
“Spain?” said Jules curiously. “Which part?”
“Galicia, changing at Madrid. He didn’t tell me why, he just ordered me to book the flight. Like I said, he’s very secretive.”
Jules knew Miller wouldn’t give her any decent information until they’d reached a proper accord. Miller had never been a grass for them before but Jules was eager to cultivate her. From what she’d heard of her she was smart and ambitious and as long as Dwyer was her gaffer she wouldn’t be able to climb the career ladder. He would always promote the male officers over her, even if they weren’t as good at their jobs. “I think we’d work well together Sandra. May I call you Sandra?”
She nodded.
“I’d be very grateful for any information you can pass my way regarding Dwyer’s activities. In return you’ll receive a nice little nest egg.”
No way was Miller going to leave a financial trail her colleagues could follow. “I don’t want money.”
“Then what do you want?”
“Promotion. The DI’s job is still vacant since Dwyer’s promotion to DCI. One of his pets is acting DI but the guy’s a total wanker and completely under Dwyer’s thumb. He also helps him fit people up. I want them both gone and to be made DI. I know with the contacts you have in the upper echelons you could make it happen. I’d be the logical choice anyway, I have the best arrest record in that unit.”
“And say you are made DI, what then?”
“Well, it would be job done, wouldn’t it? We’ve both got what we want - me DI and Dwyer gone. Our alliance would just be a temporary arrangement.”
Jules thought she sounded very naïve for an experienced police officer, or maybe she just wanted to be DI so much she was willing to believe anything to get it. For now she would play along before disabusing her of that notion. “Alright, you have a deal. Take this,” she said, holding out a mobile phone.
Miller took it from her, noting she wore gloves.
“It’s an untraceable burner phone,” said Jules. “With just one number programmed into it. If you hear anything of interest text me and I will text you back with a time to chat properly. If it’s nothing you need to discuss verbally you can just text me the information.”
Miller nodded and pocketed the phone.
“Nice doing business with you,” said Jules before melding into the shadows.
Miller breathed a sigh of relief and leaned back against the wall. Once her heart rate had returned to normal she hurried back to her car, keen to return to the warmth and safety of home.
Archie sat in his bedroom, staring out of the window at the garden below. His mum and other siblings were out there playing with his youngest sister, Ellie, who had just turned three. She was the only person he loved in the whole world. He used to be close to his mum and stepdad but they’d destroyed all that when they’d sent him to stay with his grandparents because they’d said he’d been bad. He hadn’t, they’d just wanted to get away from him for a while because they hated him. Although they hadn’t done it since he wanted revenge on them for that.
Ever since Ellie’s birth all the dark thoughts in his head had been easier for him to live with. Somehow she made him feel lighter, better. Her warmth melted the coldness inside him but when she wasn’t around it returned and froze his heart again. He smiled as he watched Ellie rush around the garden with the cuddly pink rabbit she loved, dark brown bunches bobbing around her head. Archie had bought the rabbit for her third birthday and she had refused to put it down from the day he gave it to her, which he thought proved that she loved him just as much as he loved her. His older brother Alfie and other sister Holly were playing with her, running about and pulling silly faces, making her giggle. They all adored Ellie and treated her like a princess, although she did have a different father to the rest of them. Their dad had been Alex Maguire whereas Ellie’s dad was Riley but that didn’t make them love her any the less. She was as much a part of this family as the rest of them.
He frowned at the sight of his mum’s huge belly. Fortunately she’d said there would be no more after this one, five children was enough for anyone. Archie had no interest in this new child, which they already knew was a boy. Ellie was the special one and no one could compare. Not that he felt threatened by this new brother, on the contrary he felt precisely nothing for him, just as he felt nothing for Alfie and Holly. Only Ellie mattered.
Now he was fifteen his mum had said it was his responsibility to look after his own room. He had to keep it clean and tidy and take his dirty clothes to the utility room for washing and put away his clean ones. His mum was delighted that he stuck scrupulously to this rule and that his bedroom was always immaculate, his clothes always ready and waiting for her to wash in the basket by the washing machine. What she didn’t know was that he only stuck to this rule because as long as he kept his room clean his mum and stepdad stayed out. Neither were his siblings allowed in, not that they tried to come in. Only Ellie was permitted inside his inner sanctum.
There was a very good reason for that.
He opened his wardrobe to reveal an array of photos of his real dad. Some were images he’d managed to steal from albums he’d found hidden in the loft where his mother had stuck them. She hadn’t wanted to throw them away because these photos showed her children growing up but neither did she want to look at her first husband’s face ever again. He’d overheard her telling his Aunty Cathy that. All the photos of his dad that had been dotted around the house had vanished after that horrible time that Archie recalled as being constantly scared, big dangerous men walking around with guns, his aunty Rachel screaming, his mum crying. The mere memory of his dad had been enough to terrify him but as the years passed by and Archie himself had become bigger and stronger, that boogeyman monster had ceased to scare him. Everyone said how much he looked like his dad. They never said it to his face but he’d overheard them talking about it. They all said he was going the same way as him, these words accompanied by worried glances in his direction. They all thought he had no idea what they were saying because he was just some dumb kid but he knew.
He’d used to like his stepdad, he’d not respected anybody so much in a long time but after he’d threatened to have him locked up for being bad Archie had lost all respect for Riley. With that loss of respect had come the longing to have his real dad back. Now he spent a lot of time going over the memories he had of him. Some of them weren’t nice - he’d remembered his dad shouting, his mum crying but others were pleasant. He remembered playing football with his dad at the park, going swimming or to the cinema. His dad had loved them all once, he knew it. So what had happened to make him hate them all and turn into that monster?
There was only one explanation.
Throughout that entire nightmare when they’d always been surrounded by the men with guns and his mum’s friend Nick had been killed, he recalled what his dad had kept saying - that it had all been his aunty Rachel’s fault. She was poison, a traitor. It was her fault his dad had tu
rned bad and been killed. He still wasn’t sure who had murdered him, no one would tell him and all the newspaper articles he’d managed to read on the internet hadn’t told him either. But, knowing his family as he did, he could round it down to five people - his uncles Mikey, Jez and Ryan or Battler and Bruiser. But his gut, which his dad had always told him to listen to, was telling him it was his uncle Ryan, which made sense after what his dad had done to his aunty Rachel, he’d almost killed her, which was no less than she’d deserved. She was a slag who’d betrayed the family. Archie didn’t know exactly what she’d done but he knew it involved Ryan. They were both traitors but she was the worst because she’d used to be a Maguire.
Archie studied the photos of his dad, taking in how he’d held himself, the look in his eye. In some photos he was smiling, he looked happy but in others he was glowering. There was one particular photo he’d found which had the whole family on, taken on his grandma Martina’s sixtieth birthday. Everyone looked happy and was smiling at the camera, except for his dad, whose head was tilted slightly to the side. He was frowning right at Ryan and Rachel, who had their arms wrapped around each other. They’d done something bad, something really bad. His dad had tried to sort them out and he’d died for it. No one was doing anything about it, so now it was left up to him.
At the sound of laughter from outside he closed the wardrobe door and looked out of the window. Riley had come home from work and he was cuddling Ellie, nuzzling her face with his nose, eliciting that beautiful chuckle that sounded like music.
He looked down dispassionately on the scene, watching Riley kiss his mum, running his hand over her big belly while his three siblings continue to play. The happy scene failed to touch his heart. As usual he felt separate to the family unit but that was fine, he knew he was vastly superior to the rest of them. Only Ellie was on his level.
His phone beeped with a text message. It was from Craig. His mum had been so relieved when he’d made friends with Craig at school. He’d been expelled three times before he’d finally settled into his current high school and that was only because of Craig, in whom he’d found a kindred spirit. He loathed his family too and he understood his dark thoughts. Craig didn’t think he was weird, in fact he thought the same way.
Riot Page 7