“Didn’t do anything? She stole her husband and kids from her.”
“Amber lost Mikey and the boys all by herself. While she had you believe Mikey was an abusive husband he never laid a finger on her. She spent his money in bucket loads, shagged his own cousin and neglected her children.”
“She was a wonderful mother.”
“If that’s true then why did Zach constantly have a dirty nappy when she was looking after him, leading to him getting painful bouts of nappy rash? Why did they cry when left in her care? Why did they become introverted and sullen around her? Because she didn’t give a shit about them and they knew it, sadly. It’s thanks to Jules that they’re once again the happy boys they used to be.”
“Liar,” he snarled, jamming the gun harder into the back of Ryan’s skull. “You have no idea what you’re talking about. You all treated her as the butt of a joke, teasing her, making fun of her. She told me all about it.”
“And that’s my point. She told you. You weren’t interested in anyone else’s side, only hers. Did it never once cross your mind that she was lying? Did you never consider that her version of Mikey didn’t tally with the man you’ve known your entire life?”
“Things go on behind closed doors, things no one else knows about.”
“Yes, you’re right but not in this case. She fed you a pack of lies simply for revenge on Mikey. And if Mikey is a wife beater as you say, why has he never displayed the same violence towards Jules?”
“Because that mental bitch would kick the shit out of him.”
Ryan had to own he had a point there. “Amber played you for a fool Declan and she’s still doing it, even though she’s dead. Your brothers are appalled at what you’ve done.”
“Charlie and Kian?” he said, suddenly not sounding so sure of himself.
“Yes. They can’t believe you betrayed the family in the first place by sleeping with Amber but now you’ve come here intent on killing us they want nothing to do with you anymore and neither does your mother. You’ve been disowned and all for a woman who never cared about you.”
“Mam,” Declan murmured.
Fortunately there was a clock in this part of the casino. Ryan glanced at it and smiled. The five minutes were up.
It had been a risk. The shock of the cold water could have caused Declan’s trigger finger to involuntarily spasm, sending a bullet straight into the back of Ryan’s head. But instead Declan’s reaction was to lower the weapon in surprise as the sprinklers went off, dousing them all in icy water. Surprised shouts and squeals emanated from the main casino floor. It was a tactic he’d told Dolores to employ when one of his and Rachel’s own casinos was about to be searched by the police. It delayed the search, enabling Dolores to dispose of a massive bag of planted cocaine.
Ryan whipped round, raising his arm. He was at a disadvantage crouched on the floor but he was significantly more muscular than Declan and he managed to knock the weapon from his hand.
“Call your security guard,” Ryan yelled to the manager as he scrabbled for the dropped gun. He punched Declan in the face, snapping his head back, blood bursting from his mouth.
“Security guard?” replied the manager.
Ryan scooped up the gun as Declan drew a second weapon and they aimed the weapons at each other.
“Francis, at the bottom of the corridor.”
“There’s no one called Francis on the staff.”
A shocked Ryan looked to Declan, whose lips were curling into a smile.
“Looks like I managed to outwit Ryan Law,” he said, water pouring down his face. “Not so fucking useless now, eh?”
As the office door burst open, Ryan threw himself behind the desk with the manager, forcing him to the floor as bullets were pumped into the room. Declan and his accomplice had come prepared because their weapons had silencers on the end, as did the gun Ryan held.
The hail of bullets suddenly ceased and there were muffled cries and the sound of a scuffle just outside the room before all went quiet. At the same time the water stopped pouring from the ceiling. Finally someone had managed to turn off the sprinklers.
Ryan peered around the side of the desk to see Brick ram his fist into the fake security guard’s face and draw his own gun while Dane and Declan aimed their own weapons at each other.
“Let’s get out of here,” said Declan when he saw Ryan raise his gun.
Before he could fire they’d shoved open the fire exit and vanished outside.
Ryan straightened up and breathed a sigh of relief.
“Thank God I invited Brick along,” said Dane, who was as wet as he was. “He’s a regular here and he said that security guard was a bit suss.”
“Thank you,” said Ryan, shaking both their hands.
“You’re welcome. Want to get after the arseholes?”
“They’ll be long gone by now but I do need to let Jules know what’s happened. We also need to find out who Francis really is, he could lead us to Declan’s hideout.”
“We can get on with that,” said Dane. “I’ve got some contacts with Irish connections. My guess is Declan brought him over with him. I thought there was a bit of a twang under that Manc accent, which he must have been putting on.”
“That would be wonderful, thank you. And any time you need a favour just let me know. I owe you both.”
“Nah, I’m sure you had it in the bag.”
“Perhaps,” he smiled.
The three of them looked down at the manager, who had curled up into the foetal position on the floor. They couldn’t tell if it was tears or water staining his face. His dark hair was plastered to his head and his nice suit was creased and soaked through. He was a sorry sight. “I’ll see to him,” Ryan told the other two, making the manager whimper.
They nodded and left.
Ryan knelt beside him, sliding the gun into the back of his jeans because the sight of the weapon only made him shake harder. “It’s alright, I won’t hurt you. Are you injured?”
The trembling man slowly sat up. “He hit me in the side of the head but I’m okay.”
“I’m so sorry you had to go through that ordeal. We can post security, discreetly of course but Declan won’t come back here.”
“Th…thank you. I thought I was tough but I’ve never been involved in anything like that,” he said with a small self-deprecating smile.
“Sadly it’s just another day at the office for us,” replied Ryan with his own sad smile. “You do understand that you can’t tell the police about this, or anyone else?”
“Yeah, course but how do I explain the damage to the office?” he said, indicating the shot up room.
“You don’t need to. Keep the door locked, don’t allow anyone else in. Tell the staff there’s been some water damage from the sprinklers. We’ll send our own people over to repair this room. No one will ever know.”
“I’ll do that. Thank you. Thank you.”
“My sister always repays loyalty very well. Do as I say and you will have a very nice bonus paid into your bank account.”
This comment cheered him up immensely and the shaking stopped. “That’s very kind, thanks.”
“You’re welcome. Can you stand?”
He nodded and hauled himself to his feet before flopping into his chair.
“I’ll leave you to it,” said Ryan. “I have a lot to do. I’m sorry for what you’ve gone through today.”
The manager just nodded. It was only when Ryan had gone that he opened his desk drawer, took out the bottle of vodka and filled up a glass. He necked the lot in one go, the warmth of the alcohol helping dispel the cold from the dousing he’d just received.
CHAPTER 37
Jules threw herself at Ryan the second he returned to The Manor, hanging from his neck. He’d called on his way back to let her know what had happened.
“That weasly little dick needs to be put down right now,” she yelled. “I’ve told Mark and he’s all over it, he’s coordinating with Dane. Hopefully they’ll
have some information soon.”
“It was you he wanted,” replied Ryan. “He’s still got it in his head that Amber was some innocent who Mikey and Jez had killed.”
“Because he’s a fucking idiot, he always was. Some things never change. Anyway, some good news. After forking out a shit ton of cash I’ve ensured Mikey and Jez stay at Strangeways. K wing has been royally fucked up and it’s going to take a while to repair all the damage. Prisoners are being transferred out to other prisons left, right and centre. I’ve managed to get the boys onto C wing, which apparently is a step up from K wing. I’ve also managed to get Vance Chambers and his pals transferred to that wing too. His sister’s doing a kick ass job running Blackpool for us, so it was a thank you to her. She’s appealing his case. I want Vance helping her if he gets out and he’s going to need his friends around him on the inside to survive. Mikey managed to briefly get in touch thanks to a phone handed to him by my prison officer mole. He said Vance and his friends really helped them out, so we owe them too.”
“That is good news and God knows we need some of that.”
“Dwyer had a couple of days off. My mole told me he left the area, so he wasn’t around to put the kybosh on it. If he had been here he probably would have stuck his oar in and had them transferred down to Brixton or some other shitey southern place.”
“Any word on McGinnis yet?”
“My mole’s working on that too. Shouldn’t be long now.”
Ray McGinnis sat shivering in the house DCI Dwyer had stashed him in. No one else on earth knew the location. He had no visitors, interacted with no one except Dwyer when he popped by to drop off his supplies. McGinnis loved to chat, he could talk to anyone but Dwyer was the opposite, he loathed small talk. In fact he seemed to loathe every other member of the human race. McGinnis’s mind boggled at the fact that he’d chosen to be a police officer where you had to constantly interact with people. He would have been much more suited to being a lighthouse keeper on an uninhabited island. With no company or outlet for a good chinwag, McGinnis was going stir crazy and he was starting to wonder if he’d done the right thing. Being brutally murdered in prison by friends he’d betrayed was starting to look more and more appealing to this never-ending isolation. Was this the best he had to look forward to in the future?
He stared blankly at the television screen. The programme was something hideous about a bunch of idiots with day glow orange skin stuck on an island together, alternating between bickering and getting off with each other. Not something he’d usually watch but he needed the sound of human voices. Plus one of the women had quite a nice arse. That was something else he was missing - female company. He was the first to admit he wasn’t much to look at but that had never stopped him from enjoying female company on a regular basis. Nothing permanent, he didn’t like relationships but he did enjoy having a drink and a laugh with a woman followed by a roll in the hay. How he missed Spain. He’d planned to spend the rest of his life there. Now he was stuck with bloody Blackpool.
The sound of a car engine outside had him leaping to his feet. Dwyer was pulling up in the small red Fiat he used just for visiting him. The man was incredibly paranoid, he seemed to think the Maguires and Laws had supernatural powers and could see through time and space. Maybe they could? Perhaps that was how they’d stayed on top for so long? The thought made him chuckle.
“Jesus,” he muttered to himself. “I need to get out of this sodding place.”
Dwyer got out of the car clutching three bulging carrier bags. McGinnis went to meet him, eagerly opening the front door.
“Get back inside,” Dwyer hissed at him. “What if someone recognises you?”
“No one’s going to recognise me,” he said, standing back to allow him to enter. “I’ve shaved off my tache.”
“The moustache does change your appearance slightly but it’s not exactly plastic surgery. You’re still recognisable.” Dwyer closed the door and locked it before heading into the galley kitchen with the shopping. “So how have you been?”
“Going insane. I need to get out of here.”
“Just hang in there a bit longer,” he said, plonking the bags down on the worktop ready to unpack.
“But for how much longer? I’m beginning to think this deal was a mistake. I’m so fucking bored. At least let me invite a lady friend to stay.”
“Out of the question. Jules will have all your old contacts under surveillance. Any one of them could lead them to your door.”
“At least getting brutally murdered would be exciting,” he pouted.
“You say that now but I bet if you had that psychotic bitch standing in front of you with her blades out you’d soon change your mind.”
McGinnis knew he was right but wasn’t about to admit it.
“This is just a temporary situation. Soon you’ll have your new identity and new life complete with your very own home, well away from danger. Just keep that in mind.”
“I need a woman,” he blurted out. “I have a very high sex drive and if I don’t get some release soon I’ll be climbing the fucking walls.”
Dwyer’s lips pursed. “Use your right hand.”
“I’m left handed,” he retorted.
Dwyer sighed and slammed a tin of beans down on the worktop. “Perhaps you’re right, this is a mistake. Instead of paying the rent on this house for you, bringing you all your food and everything you need and protecting you from people who want to kill you I should drive you into the centre of Manchester and leave you there. Then I’ll just wait for the call to come in about another faceless body found brutally murdered. I take it you know about that?”
McGinnis swallowed hard. “I saw it on the news.”
“What hasn’t been revealed to the press is that poor sod’s face was cut off pre-mortem. He was still alive and conscious when it was done to him. Do you want some of the same?”
“No,” he said sheepishly, looking down at the floor.
“They’d probably do something even worse to you after you put Mikey and Jez in prison. They might even ram a knife up your backside, just like they did in the good old days.”
“Hey, I told you Mikey was nothing to do with Amber’s death but you wouldn’t have it. You forced me to drop him in it.”
“You didn’t have to go along with it but you did to save your own skin.” His lip curled with disgust. “You criminals are all the same. You talk about a code of honour, never grass but you’re willing to break that same code the second you’re landed in a bit of trouble.”
“Don’t get all righteous with me. You coppers are just as bad. You’re the one who strong-armed me into this nightmare.”
Dwyer glared at him. “Right, have it your own way. Get your coat on.”
“Why?”
“I’m taking you back to Manchester. I’ll drop you off right outside The Wherry Tavern where you can have a nice reunion with your old friends and tell them all about what you’ve been up to recently. I’m sure Jules will find an imaginative and painful way to celebrate your return.”
“Wait,” he said when Dwyer stomped to the door. “I’m sorry, alright. I didn’t mean what I said. I’m just going crazy being stuck in here.”
Dwyer pretended to ponder accepting his olive branch before nodding. “Alright Ray, I get it. But you have to understand that I’m only doing my best to keep you alive.”
“And I appreciate it,” he mumbled.
“Good. I got that lager you like,” he said, producing a four pack from one of the bags. “That’ll take the edge off.”
“Cheers,” he said, taking the lot off him and retreating into the lounge.
“Arsehole,” Dwyer muttered under his breath.
DS Miller sat at her desk, on edge. At least she was the only one in the office again, so the cavemen she worked with weren’t there to blame her bad mood on pre-menstrual tension. Before he’d left, Dwyer had sent all his male colleagues out on various errands while she’d been left behind again like a glorified se
cretary. But she was glad of the solitude. She was anxiously awaiting a phone call from her contact Jacko, who she’d set to following Dwyer. Jacko was a known thief, forger and accomplished pick-pocket. She’d arrested him many times, he’d even served two prison sentences because of her, albeit short ones. But the man was also insanely clever with a unique habit of blending into the shadows, making him the ideal person to follow Dwyer. If Jacko was spotted tailing him she was done for because he would drop her in it. It wouldn’t matter that she’d ensured the evidence against him in his latest forging case had vanished from the evidence store as payment. She could deny it to high heaven, he had no proof after all, it would just be his word against hers but Dwyer didn’t let a little thing like evidence stop him. He’d boot her off the team and probably ensure she wasn’t welcome in any other unit either, thanks to his cosy relationship with the Chief Superintendent. She hoped to God Jacko came up with something as she’d failed to find any trace of Declan Maguire in the city. Letting down Jules Maguire would not be good for her health.
Miller couldn’t quite believe she’d crossed the line of destroying evidence but it had been so ridiculously simple. Since she’d started working for Jules it had been easier to do things that just a few months ago she wouldn’t dared have contemplate. She’d often wondered how people ended up taking the path of criminality. Now she understood just how easy it was.
Jacko was smart, it was why she’d hired him in the first place. He was a ghost when he wanted to be. It was a massive gamble on her part but if it worked out it would contribute to Dwyer’s downfall. She just hoped it wouldn’t bring about her own too.
Rachel held her breath.
She could hear muffled thuds and shouts coming from a room deeper in the Garrick’s huge house. It sounded like a fight was going on.
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