Ruthless a Gripping and Gritty Crime Thriller

by Charlie Gallagher

  Chapter 14

  Rhiannon woke to bright sunshine. She hadn’t closed the curtains or managed to get under her quilt. She was still wrapped in just a towel around her body and a second one wrapped round her hair.

  ‘Fuck! What happened to you?’ Sam’s voice was urgent. She was sat at the end of the bed. She must have been what had woken Rhiannon.

  ‘What happened to you, you mean,’ Rhiannon grunted. She shifted to a sit. ‘You made it back okay, then.’

  ‘I sent Danny back for you. He sent me a message, like, an hour later and said he was back with you, and Rosh and you were fine. Rosh sent the same.’

  ‘Well, they weren’t.’

  ‘Jesus.’

  Rhiannon sat up. She hugged herself, suddenly feeling the cold from being wrapped in a damp towel.

  Sam was lingering on her, especially her body. ‘Did you, you know, did they make you?’

  ‘No! But only because I got very lucky.’

  ‘Lucky how?’

  ‘I don’t even know. Right bloke, right time I guess.’

  ‘Danny?’

  ‘No. Definitely not Danny.’

  ‘I thought it was weird, you know. I haven’t heard from them today. Not Rosh, that’s not normal for him. I thought they had gone back and sorted you out. I figured you had stayed out, maybe over at Danny’s.’

  ‘Nope. I slept on some manky mattress thanking my lucky stars no one was raping me. How was your night?’

  ‘Jesus, Rhiannon, I know you’re angry, but it wasn’t my fault. I couldn’t do nothing.’

  ‘You could have not taken me there in the first place. You could have not introduced me to those people. We should both be staying away from them — all of them.’

  ‘Yeah. You’re right. I mean what sort of a man does that? Leaves you there. I didn’t know, though, right, Rhiannon? I mean, I checked up. I thought you were cool.’

  ‘Yeah, well I wasn’t. And I’ve got to get sorted.’ Rhiannon pulled her phone from where it had been charging. It was half past two.

  ‘You got somewhere to be?’

  ‘Yeah. Soon, too.’

  ‘You want to hang later? After, like?’

  ‘No.’

  Sam got up off the bed. She flashed angry herself, but it was nothing more than an expression. She walked towards the door.

  ‘I’m just tired, Sam, that’s all! I didn’t sleep much!’ Rhiannon called out.

  ‘Sure, I understand.’

  * * *

  William pushed the door and bundled through. The room consisted of a reception desk on the left, two rows of chairs back to back through the middle and a third row against the right-hand wall under high windows. An elderly woman sat closest to him, dressed as if in her Sunday best. She had a tartan bag on the seat next to her and she wrapped her arm around it as William let the door close behind him. On the opposite side of the room was a small play area. A little boy played with a wooden puzzle. He crashed two wooden balls together that were suspended on wire and squealed loudly. Engrossed in her smartphone, his mother didn’t seem to notice. A few other patients were scattered across the waiting room. In the front row he saw the girl from the house — Rhiannon. She was staring at him, her eyes wide, her hand over her mouth. She got to her feet slowly. A few of the waiting people noticed; they flicked from her to him and back again.

  He dipped his head and stepped forwards — shot of pain through his thigh. He tried not to give any outward sign. He made it to the seat next to the girl and fell into it.

  ‘Jesus! They did that because of me!’

  ‘They didn’t say why!’ William tried to expel laughter, but his laughter turned to a grimace. His jaw was still sore, his mouth and gums hurt with speech. It was still a lot better than first thing though.

  ‘You have to tell the police. What did they do?’

  ‘Nothing like what they’ll do if I tell the police. Don’t worry, I’ll be fine.’

  ‘You don’t look fine.’

  ‘It looks worse than it is.’

  ‘What did he hit you with? Look at your eye, your lips! It looks like they hit you everywhere.’

  ‘Listen, kid, I appreciate you making a call — for caring about my leg. But I can’t go in there. I only came here to make sure you understand that you can’t go back. To the house, I mean. And I can handle this from here. I don’t need you calling my doctor.’

  ‘Well, you’re here now. If you can handle this then you might as well go in and talk to the doctor. He’s the other side of that door. And your appointment . . . it’s five minutes. I read up a bit about abscesses. They only get worse. If you let it get too bad, it will kill you.’

  ‘I know. Trust me, I know how bad they can get. But I can’t go in there looking like this. I know the system. They might tip off the old bill, and right now I could do without a visit.’

  Rhiannon suddenly became animated. ‘That would be perfect, surely? If someone else called the police, that’s nothing to do with you. They can arrest the arsehole that did this to you then. Or at least get them all out of your house.’

  ‘It don’t work like that, love. The police won’t be bothered about me, especially when I tell them I fell down the stairs. I can’t go telling them what happened. No one can.’ William locked eyes with Rhiannon to reinforce his message.

  ‘It might scare them off at least.’

  ‘Or they will go again on me, and this time they won’t stop just because I lose consciousness.’

  ‘They beat you unconscious?’

  William shrugged. ‘Yeah, I think so. Look, I’m fine.’

  ‘But you’re not. You’re in pain every day with your leg. Go see the doctor. I feel so bad they did that to you because of me. Because you let me go. Please just go and see him, so I at least feel like I’ve done something for you.’

  ‘William Dryden?’ a man called out. William looked up and the man seemed to be staring right at him. He had grey hair and a neat, white beard. He wore a checked shirt tucked into chinos and he lifted his glasses and one eyebrow in expectation. William sighed in resignation.

  ‘How did you even know my surname?’ William hissed towards Rhiannon. The doctor nodded and turned towards the corridor. William was supposed to follow.

  ‘Oh,’ Rhiannon pulled a crumpled envelope from her pocket. She handed it to William. ‘You should have this back. I took it from your place this morning. It was stuffed behind your radiator. I guess that’s where you keep the important stuff.’

  He unfolded it. It was an NHS branded letter, dated from late the previous year. It had all the information she would have needed to make the appointment. He smiled at her, despite the pain in his mouth.

  ‘You found my phone, charged it and took the number and then found a letter so you could make me a doctor’s appointment for my leg?’

  ‘Yeah, pretty much.’

  ‘I’m not used to having someone look out for me you know.’

  ‘Mr Dryden?’ The spectacled man called out again. He was further away, stood at an open door. ‘Shall we?’

  William struggled to his feet. He took a step and the muscle spasmed, he stumbled and Rhiannon steadied him.

  The man called out again, ‘Is your daughter able to help you in at least. She doesn’t have to stay beyond that.’

  They exchanged glances. ‘No, I can manage.’ William walked a few more steps. The man stepped into his examination room. William turned back to Rhiannon. ‘Look, thanks, okay? But you need to stay away. From all of this. As far away as you can.’ He continued his walk.

  * * *

  ‘Why are you still here?’ William’s meeting with the doctor had been short. Neither man had an appetite to drag it out it seemed. ‘I did what you wanted, right?’

  ‘What did he say?’ Rhiannon said.

  ‘What I expected.’

  ‘Did he look at your face?’

  ‘He held eye contact if that’s what you mean.’

  ‘You know what I mean.’

&n
bsp; ‘My nose is broken. That’s about the worst there is. He reckons my jaw is just bruised, it might have dislocated but it isn’t now.’

  ‘You should still get an x-ray.’

  ‘He said the same, wanted me to go to a hospital. No point though. There’s nothing they can do about it.’

  ‘You should listen to the doctor.’

  ‘Why are you still here?’

  Rhiannon stood up. ‘I wanted to talk to you. About those men at your house. I want to know more.’

  ‘Why? I told you to stay away. That’s all you need to know.’

  ‘My friend, Sam . . .’

  ‘The girl from last night? She should stay away too. Simple as that.’

  ‘Yes, she should. But I don’t think she will. What do I tell her to convince her? She doesn’t seem to see what they’re like.’

  ‘I don’t care what you tell her. I don’t really care if she listens to you, or if you listen to me anymore. I’ve already done too much. The one thing I’ve learned is to keep out of other people’s business. You stick your oar in and it gets snapped off.’ William gestured at his face. ‘All this is my fault. Now, I got to get some pills out and then I’m going somewhere I like to drink. Alone.’

  He walked to the counter. He heard footsteps walking away behind him. The door to the surgery rung a shrill bell as it was pulled open. He was given some paperwork for his prescription from an unsmiling receptionist who didn’t utter a word. When he limped back out into the sun, Rhiannon was stood at the end of the ramp. She was leaning on the railings, a bottle of cider in each hand.

  ‘You don’t listen very well do you?’ he said.

  ‘We have that in common.’

  ‘What do you want from me?’

  ‘Five minutes.’ She held out one of the bottles. William made it to the bottom of the ramp, the handrail taking his weight. He snatched the bottle. He eyed the other.

  ‘I didn’t have you down as a cider drinker,’ he said.

  ‘It’s for you. At the end of the five minutes. It’s the same brand as all the empties at your place.’

  William snorted and pushed off the handrail. ‘Clever kid. Five minutes,’ he grunted.

  William knew a spot nearby. The Leas was a grassy expanse on a cliff top on the very edge of the town. For many it was a beauty spot where you could sit on one of the many benches, among manicured lawns and flowering beds and gaze out over the sea. William loved the sea view, too, but his choice of a place to sit was a footpath long since closed, the end of which had fallen away and the beginning of which was blocked by a gate with stern warning signs of cliff falls. William ignored them all. The padlock was thick and meant business. William used it to rest his foot on before he pushed his weight up and almost fell over the top. He couldn’t help but groan in pain as he landed; his hand immediately moved to this thigh, then reached through to grab the cider he had put on the ground. Rhiannon didn’t say anything, just scaled the gate and followed him along the path. Twenty metres along, it dropped down the cliff face and turned back on itself. William followed it round. He walked another few metres. The path became rougher, the part that had fallen away was clearly visible. He stopped a few metres short, where a break in the trees offered a clear view through to the shuffling sea. He fell to a sit, twisted the top off the cider and took a long swig. He said nothing, just gazed out at the sea. Today it was striped with different shades of blues and greens pierced by mini eruptions of white froth. Every day the colours were different. Rhiannon sat next to him.

  ‘Nice spot,’ she said.

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘I can see why they closed it off, though.’

  William looked over to where she was leant forward, looking down the slope on the other side of the steel railings. The path dug into the side of the cliff. Some of the rock and mud had slipped away from the side as well as collapsing at the end of the path. The slope on the other side was steeper and more sudden than it had been just a few months before.

  ‘I’m glad they did. I like to drink in peace.’

  ‘How did you find it?’ Rhiannon said. She either hadn’t picked up on the dig or chosen to ignore it completely.

  ‘It was Janey’s place. She brought me here. She’s always loved the sea. We both have.’

  ‘Something in common then.’

  ‘We were both elsewhere. Both inland, living different lives. We both asked to be rehoused near the sea, thought it might help fight our addictions. Two different councils both fell for it. I always said the sea is what brought us together.’

  ‘That sounds right to me. You would never have met otherwise.’

  ‘No. And for all the shit, for it hurting now, I’m glad we did.’

  ‘What happened with her?’

  William was suddenly aware of himself. ‘She died. Simple really.’ He sniffed and shuffled to try and get more comfortable.

  ‘Sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.’

  ‘Don’t matter.’

  ‘I lost my aunt. She died too. That’s why I’m here. They put me in some emergency foster care.’

  ‘And here we are.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Me and Janey, we got brought together by the sea. Beautiful it is, nothing more beautiful on earth. Me and you, we got brought together by death, right? That’s a sign we should stay away from each other, if ever I saw one.’

  ‘Well, when you put it like that . . .’

  William was aware of an awkward pause. He hadn’t intended to sound quite so harsh. ‘Do you like it?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘The foster placement? Where you’re at?’

  ‘I liked living with my aunty.’

  ‘You should stay there. In your placement. You’ll be safe there.’

  ‘And what about you?’

  ‘What about me?’ William took another swig on his cider.

  ‘Where are you safe if it’s not at home?’

  ‘Here? I’ll be okay. I know enough about this world to know these people. They don’t hang around long. And they won’t do that again, as long as I don’t stick my nose in.’

  ‘But they’re still at your home. And you can’t stay here.’

  ‘It stopped being my home when Janey left. I feel closer to her here. This feels more like my home. I’ll spend some time here — go back when I need to sleep. This will pass. It always passes.’

  ‘Do you think Sam’s in danger?’

  ‘I’ve told you enough. You’re both in danger if you spend any more time with those people. You need to stay away.’

  ‘That’s what I told her.’

  ‘Is she a good friend? Doesn’t she listen to you?’

  ‘I hardly know her, I guess. I mean, we met when I moved to the house a few days ago. But she was good to me, right from the start.’

  ‘You need to look after yourself, though. You can’t be worrying about her. Putting yourself at risk just for someone who was nice to you, that’s madness.’

  ‘We all need to look out for each other, right?’

  William turned to take in Rhiannon. He lingered on her soft features, long enough that she gave a nervous chuckle and looked away, out over the sea. Her long hair drifted about her face in the light breeze, her legs were pulled up, her arms wrapped around her knees. She looked small, vulnerable. Beautiful.

  ‘Who’s looking out for you, though, Rhiannon? I’ve seen people like you before. A big heart, a pretty face. This world will chew you up and spit you out. That loveliness that you’ve got, you have to learn to switch that off. You need to be ruthless when it’s called for. Trust me, you need to start looking out for yourself.’

  ‘Thanks,’ Rhiannon said.

  ‘For what?’

  ‘For talking to me today. For talking to your doctor, too. And for last night — when you forgot to be ruthless.’ Rhiannon stood up. She placed the second bottle of cider next to him. He watched her as she disappeared from sight.

  Chapter 15

  Mo walked th
e pedestrianised area of Langthorne at midday. He had a hundred wraps in his underwear, a mix of heroin and cocaine. Every one of his senses felt heightened. This wasn’t normally his role; he was never the mule. He had always looked after the money. Aaron had thrown his toys out of the pram that morning; he had suddenly decided that he wanted a switch of personnel. The issue he’d had with Danny was clearly still on his mind and they were all having to suffer for it.

  Whatever. Mo just needed to make it another one hundred metres to where a road veered off from the High Street and into the grounds of the cemetery. Rosh should be there to meet him. Rosh was out doing the street deals today. Aaron had previously been using local users to deal the drugs — they worked for next to nothing and they took all the risks — but he was closing ranks. A hundred wraps was a lot to be carrying at any one time — around two thousand pounds in street value. The local dealers were given ten wraps at a time. They couldn’t be trusted with any more.

  Mo’s heightened senses had picked out a tail. He couldn’t be sure; maybe it was just that he was so aware that his mind was tricking him into believing anyone who looked at him must be someone to worry about. The man in question was stationary. He was leaning casually against a wall between two shop fronts. Too casual maybe, he had one leg up so the sole of his foot met the wall and he was idly flicking through his phone. It looked to Mo like he was trying to demonstrate just how little he was bothered about what was going on around him, yet all the while he was probably texting to update on Mo’s movements. They would be surrounding him, ready to strike. Mo shook his head. Stupid. He was just another boy walking the busy High Street. There was no reason for undercover officers or rival gangs to take notice of him. Except for the hundred wraps of class A drugs in his underwear. He had refused to plug them; he drew the line at pushing them into his anal cavity. You wouldn’t get that much even into an experienced mule and it rarely stopped the police finding it anyway, it just made it take longer.