Riot

by Heather Atkinson

  “I know,” she said, kissing him.

  “Let’s go home. I’m sick of this place.”

  “No can do yet. They’ve got Jez.”

  “Oh for Christ’s sake.”

  “Your colleague Shelley is in there with him,” Jules told Rupert.

  “Well he shouldn’t be too long then,” he smiled. “No doubt she’ll be beating Dwyer into submission as we speak.”

  CHAPTER 12

  “This is ridiculous DCI Dwyer,” snarled the blond lawyer, her green eyes afire. “You have absolutely zero evidence against Mr Law except for some stupid hearsay from people who are clearly out for revenge. I had thought an officer of your rank and experience would know better than to haul my client in on this pathetic charge. Really, I don’t know what was running through your head. You have managed to provide neither motive nor any solid evidence linking him to this so-called crime and we only have the word of a man wanted for armed robbery that a crime has even been committed. Now I suggest you release him before I hit you with a harassment complaint so hard it’ll knock your eyes out of your head.”

  When she went silent after her tirade that had felt to last for hours, Dwyer realised it was finally his turn to speak.

  “As I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted,” said Dwyer, turning to Jez. “I have your business partner in custody and he’s starting to crack. I anticipate it won’t be long before he’s telling me everything I want to know. You’d be much better off getting your side of the story in first before he can drop you in it.”

  Jez smiled and shook his head. “Now I know you’re lying Dwyer. Mikey isn’t the cracking type and even if he was he would have nothing to tell you because he doesn’t know anything about this bollocks and neither do I. You’ve got nothing.”

  “Exactly,” said Shelley. “I insist you drop this at once.”

  Dwyer sighed and leaned back in his chair. He’d thrown everything at Jez that he had at Mikey - including Declan’s statement - but whereas he’d got angry Jez had just seemed to find the whole thing amusing. He hadn’t even flinched at the gruesome post mortem photos.

  “You can leave, for now,” said Dwyer. “But I will be speaking to you again.”

  “Then you’ll be wasting your time,” said Jez, calmly getting to his feet and straightening his cuffs. “And I will be lodging a complaint of harassment.”

  “Join the queue,” muttered Dwyer.

  Jez strolled through the police station with Shelley, who was performing a strut of victory more than a walk, tossing about her blond hair, drawing the curious stares of the officers they passed by.

  “There he is,” grinned Jules, flinging herself at her younger brother. “I knew it wouldn’t be long.”

  “Because it’s a load of bollocks,” said Jez. He nodded at Shelley. “You should have seen her in there, she beat him into submission with words. I’ve never seen that arsehole so silent before.”

  “And now myself and Shelley will return to the office and start working on those harassment complaints,” said Rupert.

  After more thanks and handshaking, the two solicitors left.

  “Let’s get you home before Cathy storms the place with a tank,” Jules told her brother.

  The three of them exited the police station and climbed into Jules’s car parked at the kerb. They had all been surprised when she’d bought a black hybrid Volvo that she’d affectionately nicknamed Loki.

  “Cathy’s been worried?” Jez asked his sister as he climbed into the back.

  “Of course she’s been worried you numpty, you were arrested.”

  “It seems so surreal now,” said Mikey. “Amber, dead. Fucking Ray McGinnis trying to make out we’d topped her. He’s just trying to save his own skin.”

  “I think she was killed,” said Jules. “But not by you two. McGinnis’s statement matched the forensic evidence. I reckon he killed her for his own reasons and he’s using it to avoid being sent down for life. He knows you two are a bigger prize than he is.”

  “Probably,” said Jez. “Anyway, it’s over with now.”

  “No it’s not,” said Mikey. “Dwyer isn’t going to give up any time soon.”

  “Leave that to our solicitors.”

  Jules dropped Jez off at his house to be greeted by Cathy throwing open the door and flinging herself at him.

  “Thank God you’re home,” she said, squeezing the breath from his lungs.

  “Told you it would be fine.”

  “What was it all about?”

  “Where are the kids?”

  “At my mum and dad’s. I was so stressed it was worrying them.”

  He took her hand, led her inside and closed the door. “Best sit down sweetheart. I’ve got some shocking news.”

  “It’s good to be home,” said Mikey, sinking onto the couch. On his return the boys had greeted him with hugs. Fortunately Jules had managed to keep his arrest secret from them. They’d retreated into the kitchen for some dinner, cooked by the nanny, who had looked after them in their parents’ absence, leaving Jules and Mikey free to talk.

  “You okay babe?” said Jules, taking his hand.

  “Yeah, just a bit shocked, that’s all.”

  “It’s okay to be upset. She was your wife after all and she’s the mother of your children. I won’t be pissed off if you grieve for her.”

  He raised her hand to his lips and kissed it. He loved how big his wife’s heart was. “I appreciate that but I’m okay. I’m a bit sad but more stunned than anything. I haven’t even thought about her in months, I just assumed she was enjoying the party life abroad and all the time she was in bits in a Spanish mortuary drawer. I can’t believe it.”

  “It’s been a hell of a shock but I think Dwyer’s partly right. She was killed by McGinnis.”

  “It would explain how he knows so much about it.”

  “He needs to be got rid of. If he’s gone he can’t blame you and Jez for something he did.”

  “You’re right but it would look weird if something were to happen to him just as he accuses us.”

  “That’s why you need to let me go in there and give him one of my special hot shots. It’ll look like a heart attack.”

  Mikey sighed and raked his hands through his hair as he pondered this.

  “You have to let me do it,” she pressed. “Hesitation in the past has always worked against us.”

  “I’ve no qualms about letting you do it babe but how will you get to him? No doubt Dwyer has made sure he has plenty of protection.”

  “I’ll make some enquiries, find out where he’s being held. You know I can find anyone. Then we can take it from there.”

  Mikey nodded. “Fine by me but we check with Jez first.”

  “I’ll ask him at work tomorrow. I don’t want to interrupt his alone time with Cathy. Do we tell the boys about Amber?”

  “No. They’ve not mentioned her since she left. I don’t think Zach even remembers her.”

  “Josh will.”

  “Maybe but let’s not rock the boat. If they ask we can tell them then.”

  “If you think that’s best.”

  “I do.” He smiled when his boys charged into the room, Zach with yoghurt around his mouth. The nanny followed, attempting to wipe it off with a cloth but he evaded all her efforts and sprang onto his father’s knee.

  Mikey experienced a tightening in his chest as he looked at Zach, who had inherited Amber’s red hair and green eyes. His mother was dead and he didn’t even know. He smiled as he watched Jules take the cloth from the nanny and clean up a grinning Zach’s face. They did have a mother, that was all that mattered. However he did feel some sadness that Amber was dead, despite how fiercely he loved Jules. He and Amber had been close once, when she was the sweet gentle woman he’d loved, before she’d turned into a psychotic harpy intent on killing them all. But at least she couldn’t hurt them anymore.

  “What the hell happened?” demanded Bruce at the second meeting of The Coalition. “You
nicked them then released them immediately.”

  “Because I had to,” replied Dwyer. “The evidence is all circumstantial but I’m confident if it’s put before a jury with Declan Maguire, Ray McGinnis and Joyce Sweeney as prosecution witnesses to back it up they will be convicted. I’m not putting Mr Sweeney on the stand, he’s so weak he’d crumble before a ferocious defence lawyer, which Mikey and Jez both have.”

  “If this case was put before my court,” said Bridges. “I could get a conviction. Jez and Mikey’s own reputations would have the case halfway there. I could certainly remand them into prison on what you’ve found.”

  “I could get a prosecution too,” said Peter enthusiastically. “It wouldn’t be hard. Who are their lawyers?”

  “Rupert Shelby and Shelley Calton from Shelby, Calton and Johnson.”

  “I know that pair,” he frowned. “I’ve sparred with them often enough. They’re both clever bastards, good at finding and exploiting loopholes in the law but their job would be made doubly difficult by Jez and Mikey’s already dubious reputations. They wouldn’t be able to make them out to be upstanding citizens, no matter how hard they tried.”

  “They’re filing complaints of harassment against me,” said Dwyer. “We need to make our move before that happens because it could damage the case or it might encourage one of the executive officers to take it off me and give it to someone else, someone who may drop the case before it even reaches court.”

  “Harassment complaints can be tied up in red tape for years with the right lawyer,” said Peter. “I can recommend someone to defend you.”

  “Thanks.”

  “And I can ensure the case doesn’t get taken off you,” said Colin.

  “With all due respect Sir,” said Dwyer. “If the ACC or above steps in you’ll be powerless.”

  “Fortunately the Chief Constable is away on holiday for three weeks in sunny Cyprus and the Deputy Chief Constable is still off sick. The ACC is holding everything together. Just leave him to me, I’ll make sure he’s kept in line.”

  “Have you got something on him?” said Bridges.

  “Yes. I’ve been saving it up for a special occasion and here it is.”

  “Do you think he’s in the pocket of the Laws and Maguires?”

  “Either him or the Chief Constable. The DCC hasn’t been very well for a while now, he should have been put out to pasture years ago but he’s clinging on for the sake of his pension. I doubt that family would have a lame duck on the payroll.”

  “Makes sense. What about the murder of Estelle Law? Is there anything in that case we can use against them?”

  “Liverpool are sharing information freely,” replied Dwyer. “The body was badly decomposed, however a trace of DNA was found on the front of Estelle’s shirt, as though she’d been grabbed. I’m waiting for the results of the DNA test.”

  “Let’s hope it’s from one of her children,” said Peter.

  “I doubt it’ll be from Mikey as he was seriously ill in hospital when she was killed,” continued Dwyer. “But if we get Jez for this it’ll be much easier to pin Amber’s murder on him too. You never know, once the evidence starts stacking up against him he might turn on his business partner.”

  “Jez Law hasn’t got where he is today by grassing.”

  “But he is adept at survival. He might if he thinks it’s his only way out.”

  Rachel sat before her counsellor, fighting the urge to run out of the room. She was a soft, squishy bunny of a woman with huge doe eyes, auburn curls and freckles across her nose. To her surprise she was only quite young, no more than late twenties and was regarding Rachel with sympathy after she’d finished explaining about Battler’s death, being careful to keep out anything that could compromise the family. Ryan had offered to come with her but she felt it was something she had to do alone.

  “That sounds like a terrible ordeal,” said the therapist, whose name was Katy.

  “Yes, it was,” sighed Rachel, hoping she was going to come out with something more useful than that.

  “You were close to Battler?”

  “He was like my second dad,” she replied, tears already threatening.

  “And his absence has left a huge hole in your life.”

  Rachel nodded, wondering when she was going to stop stating the bloody obvious.

  “In my experience it can be very difficult for mothers to grieve properly. You feel you have to keep it all in for the sake of the children, put on a strong front to support the rest of the family. Emotion is repressed until it becomes overwhelming. You may not even realise it’s happening and this pain then becomes a part of you. Not all wounds are external.”

  Rachel nodded, her words making sense.

  “These internal wounds are the most dangerous as often we have no idea they are there until they manifest in our outward behaviours in some shocking way. The pain must be confronted. Only then can it be released.”

  “But how do I do that? I’ve cried and grieved for him but it still hurts so much.”

  “There’s no time limit on grief.”

  “That’s just what my husband said,” replied Rachel, wondering if she should have talked to Ryan instead and saved herself some cash.

  “Was there anything unresolved between you and Battler, anything you felt you should have said to him but didn’t?”

  “I didn’t tell him I loved him,” she said, the words coming out in a shaky rush. “He sacrificed his life to save ours and I didn’t say it. I know he knew it, course he did but that doesn’t make me regret not saying it one last time,” she said, a tear rolling down her cheek. “God I sound corny,” she added with a self-deprecating smile.

  “It’s not corny at all. Your grief is tied up with regret, which is preventing you from moving on. You have to let go of that regret.”

  “How do I do that?”

  “Have you tried writing him a letter?”

  “Oh for God’s sake,” Rachel muttered under her breath.

  “I’m aware he won’t read it but writing is very cathartic and it’s a wonderful way of releasing trapped emotion. You may be surprised by the results.”

  “Worth a try I suppose.”

  “I recommend not letting anyone else read it, so you can feel free about pouring your heart and soul into it. Also try using traditional pen and paper rather than typing it up on a computer, it flows better that way.”

  “What do I do with it once I’ve written it?”

  “That’s entirely up to you. Some people like to rip the letter up or burn it to aid the release process. Others like to keep it to look back on. Just go with whatever feels right for you.”

  “Anything else I could try?” said Rachel, who didn’t have much faith in the letter process.

  “You could always try some visualisation - imagine him standing before you and say what you feel to him.”

  “I can’t,” she rasped, fresh tears forming in her eyes.

  “That can be a little too emotive for some. Perhaps try the letter and see how you get on with that.”

  “Okay. In the meantime, how do I deal with this anger?”

  “Hopefully that will ease off when you release the emotion but physical exercise is a good way of relieving intense emotion - walking, running, weights, even beating the heck out of a cushion can help,” she smiled. “And there’s my personal favourite - sex.”

  “Oh,” said Rachel.

  “The act of coupling is a wonder for relieving frustration, leaving one feeling relaxed and satisfied, don’t you think?”

  “Yes,” said Rachel slowly. She hadn’t thought this woman capable of shocking her. Katy looked far too cotton candy to come out with a statement like that.

  Katy glanced at her watch. “I’m afraid our time’s nearly up. Would you like to book another appointment?”

  “Err, yes. Same time next week?”

  She opened a diary and skimmed through it. “Yes, that’s fine. See you then Rachel.”

  After handi
ng over the money, Rachel left. The further she got from Katy’s office the more ridiculous the letter idea sounded. Then she recalled the terror in Harry Nelson’s eyes and thought she had to give it a go. If it helped her get rid of this horrible anger then it would be worth it.

  She arrived home to find everyone out, the boys at school, Leah at college and Ryan at the gym. So she sat down and composed her letter to Battler. At first she felt a little awkward and silly, until she got into the flow of it. Memories of the last time she’d seen him returned. He’d held up that pillar in the disintegrating barn, sacrificing himself so she and Ryan could live.

  Her tears speckled the page as she continued to write, everything pouring out of her in a torrent - the rage at herself for not saying those three little words, for the time she’d spent taking for granted that he’d always be there, the chances she’d had to be with him and didn’t take because life got in the way.

  As she wrote the last word she doubled over, tears coursing down her cheeks, a wail of anguish flying from her lips. She allowed herself to fall into it, graduating to a scream as months of repressed emotion was finally released.

  Ryan was alarmed when he got out of his car outside his house and heard screaming from within.

  “Rachel,” he yelled, bursting inside. “Rachel?”

  He ran into the living room to find his wife in a heap on the floor, tears pouring down her beautiful face.

  “Oh my God what’s happened?” he cried, taking her in his arms. “Who hurt you?”

  “No one,” she gasped, wiping away the tears on the backs of her hands. “I went to see the counsellor.”

  “And she upset you? Well I’ll be having words with her.”

  “No, she didn’t. She recommended I write a letter to Battler telling him everything I want to say but will never get the chance. It was like I opened a door and all this crap I’d been keeping in flooded out.”

  “How do you feel?”

  “Better. I’ve only just realised what a weight I’ve been carrying.”

  “Well that’s wonderful and all from a simple letter.”

  “I know, who’d have thought? I wish I’d done it months ago. I’m seeing her again next week, if only to let her know how successful the letter thing has been.”