by Anita Waller
‘I don’t know, but you’re being so brave. Come and sit down and have this drink, and let’s talk about Ella. Let’s always keep her alive for you, for all of us.’
Dom and Mark sat quietly, not sure how to handle the strange situation. This was the first time they’d been in this house without Ella, and it felt wrong. They sipped at their drinks, and Dom tentatively reached across for a biscuit.
‘Can’t imagine not seeing Ella again, can you?’ he whispered to his brother.
Mark shook his head. ‘Shh, Ella’s mum can hear you,’ he whispered back.
Cissie turned to them, tears still glittering on her cheeks. ‘Talk about her all you want, boys. It won’t upset me any more than I am already, and we need to talk about her.’
Cissie and Sally re-took their seats at the table. Cissie was the first to speak. ‘Know what my favourite memory is? It’s her climbing the stairs every night, collecting Mr Grumps from the second stair up, before heading for her bedroom. Now, let’s take it in turns to tell of a favourite memory of Ella, until she’s lodged in our hearts for always.’
Chapter 15
Daryl was released into the care of his father the following day. He was surprised to be taken to the Travelodge instead of home, and even more surprised to find his father had been thoughtful enough to bring him some clothes, as well as his own. The old selfish Carl wouldn’t have done that.
The hospital had insisted that Daryl still needed rest, so they sat in the room, watching daytime television, both sleeping on and off.
By seven o’clock, Daryl was bored. ‘Did you bring any books, Dad?’
‘Books? No. Why?’
‘I don’t want to watch TV. Could do with a book.’
‘There’s a garage across the car park. Think you can manage to walk across there?’
Daryl shook his head. ‘No, my knee’s hurting. Is it time for some more painkillers?’
‘Shit!’ Carl had been given explicit instructions for medication times, and a quick glance at his watch showed he was an hour late. ‘Sorry, son, I’ll get you some now. And then, I’ll go find you a book. Any sort?’
He popped two tablets from the blister pack and handed them to Daryl. ‘You got enough water?’
Daryl nodded. ‘I’m fine. Bit hungry, though.’
‘I’ll bring us something. And a book, if they sell them.’
Daryl held up a thumb, too busy trying to swallow the giant-sized tablets to talk.
Fifteen minutes later, Carl was back and earning multiple brownie points. The garage had boasted a veritable library of books, and the woman behind the counter had advised him to take a Rick Riordan book for a smart eleven-year-old. She’d handed Carl the first in the series and said they stocked the rest when his lad had read that one. He hoped Daryl was a slow reader; when did books become that expensive?
Carl also gathered some snacks together. He needed to lay low, not be taking them out for meals, although he did recognise that at some point, he would have to sort out funeral arrangements for Megan. Their teenage love had died a death a long time ago, but she was Daryl’s mother, and the truth was, he would miss her anyway, even if they had drifted apart.
Daryl made himself as comfortable as he could on the bed, opened the book and was instantly lost. He finally fell asleep, a combination of the long day, and the drugs, and Carl removed the open book that was laid on his son’s chest. He tore a piece of the newspaper and used it as a bookmark, then read the back of the book.
He turned it over and looked at the cover, then turned to the first page. He hadn’t read a book since the enforced reading of Of Mice and Men at school.
Three hours later, he checked on Daryl, pulled the covers up around his shoulders and switched off the light. He was on page eighty-four, not the fastest reader in the world, but Daryl was much further into the book, so he wouldn’t have long to wait before he could read again. And he would have to go and get Daryl the second one…
Maybe there was hope for the two of them.
Carl’s head hit the pillow, and he was dropping off to sleep when his phone pinged.
Where the fuck are you?
He smiled. Up yours, Kenny, he thought. I’m with my lad.
Kenny was angry. He’d had a full day of Grausohn blethering on about those kids, he’d had Fraser with that smirk on his face, and he didn’t know where the hell bloody Carl Clarkson was. The hospital wouldn’t tell him anything, despite his reassurance that he was Daryl’s uncle, and Billy was only speaking in monosyllables.
He was back to sharing a bed with Billy, but the conversation was lacking. He’d fired off the text to Clarkson after brushing his teeth and then hoped he wouldn’t respond. It would only irritate Billy even further; he’d class it as bringing work into bed with them.
He tossed and turned for half an hour, then gave in and sat on the edge of the bed.
‘Cup of tea?’ Billy asked.
Kenny turned his head and looked at him. ‘I’ll do it. Anything in yours?’
‘Milk. We need clear heads.’
Kenny went downstairs, returning a few minutes later with two drinks.
Billy was sitting up in bed with his glasses on and looking serious. ‘What are our options?’
Kenny felt a sense of relief that Billy used the word “our.” ‘I don’t know. If I walk away, I’ll be looking over my shoulder for the rest of my life. I’ll also be putting you in danger, because they’ll see you as my weak link. Losing you, Billy, would kill me.’
‘Then, there’s only one answer. Grausohn has to go. And soon. No more children can die or even be hurt because of him. So, we need to think.’
‘That might be the answer,’ Kenny smiled. ‘But it’s a massive problem. There’s always somebody there, and now he’s got this new bloke, Fraser, he’ll be there all the time. He very rarely goes out, and he’s always well protected when he does.’
‘You’re thinking like a gangster, Kenny.’
‘I am a gangster.’
‘Stop thinking like one. When I say he has to die, you immediately think by the knife, or the bullet. There are other ways.’
Kenny waited. It was surreal, sitting at the side of his lover in bed, discussing how to murder his boss. But he had nothing but respect for Billy; he was clever. And he gave a lot of thought to everything before acting on anything.
‘He lives in a penthouse suite, right?’
‘Yes, stunning place. It has its own elevator, four bedrooms, one of which he is in most of the time ’cos he’s set it up as an office, a lounge that’s massive, with windows that open out onto a balcony, and a kitchen.’
‘How does he eat? Does he have food sent in, or does he cook himself?’
Kenny laughed at the idea of Grausohn with a pinny on, standing at the cooker. ‘No, he has a housekeeper, a German woman called Gerda. One of the bedrooms is hers, and she prepares all his food. He likes German food better than English, he says.’
‘Okay, so there’s two possibilities right there. The first is poison, and the second is the balcony. Are you ever in the lounge with him?’
‘Only if something big goes off at night, and I need to contact him. He finishes in the office when he has his evening meal.’
‘Could you get him drunk?’
‘Maybe. I’ve only seen him drunk once, and that was when we had a meeting with him, Tommy and me, to discuss building up the troops. Bringing more people in to expand the network. Strangely, he’s a happy drunk. In that damned office, you never even see him smile, but when he’s drunk, he lets down his guard.’
‘And he’s likely to go out on the balcony?’
‘Definitely. He makes us go out there to smoke, won’t have smoking in the lounge. It can be bloody freezing in the winter.’
‘It’s not the winter. We need to do it now, so it looks natural you being out there. You got anybody you can trust to help you, who could be there? Not this Fraser bloke, obviously. It needs to be somebody who’d benefit from Grauso
hn being dead.’
‘Carl Clarkson.’
‘What?’
‘Yeah. If Grausohn lives, Carl will die. He might think he can hide away, but it’s only because I haven’t bothered looking yet. He’s the key to these kids that Grausohn’s after. His own lad, Daryl, is in the gang of them, and Carl knows who all the others are. He’s seen what happened when we tried to snatch Ella, and he’s not giving us any other names. This could be our way in.’
‘Talk me through it.’
‘Okay.’ Kenny thought for a few seconds. ‘This will have to take place fairly late so that Fraser’s gone for the night, and so has Gerda. She goes out most nights, cinema or bingo or something. If I ring Grausohn and tell him I’ve got Carl, who’s managed to track down most of the names, he’ll say come around. He might not trust Carl, but he trusts me. I’ve got rid of Tommy for him, and he knows we were long time mates.’
‘So far so good,’ Billy said. ‘But you’re relying on him asking you to go up to the penthouse.’
‘He will. I’ll use the password. When we use that, he knows it’s urgent.’
‘And that is?’
‘Verstehen. Using it means we need to see him immediately. If he’s got somebody there he can’t get rid of, he says, “nicht verstehen,” and we wait for a text telling us when he’s free.’
‘It’s like being in a kid’s gang.’
‘He’s no kid, Billy. Everything he does is carefully thought through. He leaves nothing to chance. Fraser hasn’t proved himself yet, and Tommy’s gone. That only leaves me he can trust. He’s put the password system in place ’cos it was necessary. Don’t underestimate him. He’s a killer and doesn’t think twice about it. He’ll not order Carl’s death until he’s got the names out of him, but then he will. It will be fine for Carl to give him some names, because we’ll chuck Grausohn over the balcony. He’ll play out the game, you see. He’ll even pay Carl for the information, but he’ll have already decided to tip me the wink to finish him off.’
Deep inside, Billy was horrified. He knew Kenny walked a very narrow line, but he’d not realise it was this bad.
‘So, all you have to do is convince Carl you’re genuine. Are you? Will you let Carl go after it’s finished, or will he follow his boss over that balcony?’
Kenny heaved a deep sigh. ‘Ella’s death has finished me, Billy. I want out, and Grausohn’s death will be my last one. His business here is tied up so tightly, I don’t think there’s anyone to take it over. Whoever he was in cahoots with over this stash that’s gone missing might try, but I’ll be well out of it by then. This can work, if I can persuade Carl Clarkson to play along. And before you make any comments, this is definitely not a game. Tomorrow, I’m going to find him and Daryl. I’ve to put some things right with the lad, but I’ve to convince Carl this will work.’
Billy felt he was seeing a new person; he’d known from very early on in their relationship exactly what Kenny did for a living, knew why they could afford such a large home and the top of the range cars they enjoyed, but he’d never seen him like this before. One little girl had softened him; made him not like himself. His daughter.
Daryl couldn’t stop the tears. He wished he could remember more about the man in that car, wished he could tell DI Roberts who it was, so that he could be sent to the electric chair for killing his mum. Except he didn’t think they did electric chairs in this country.
He tried to turn over, but the pain in his shoulder made him scream out.
‘Daryl? You okay?’ Carl sat up and looked over at the other bed. ‘You need anything?’ He clicked on the bedhead light and saw his son’s face, streaked with tears. He got out of bed and sat by Daryl. ‘Can I do anything? You need more medication?’
‘Get my mum back,’ Daryl sobbed. ‘I want my mum.’
‘Shit, Dazza, I can’t do that.’ Carl felt helpless. He tried to put his arm around Daryl’s shoulders, but it was obvious it hurt too much.
Carl poured some milk into the tooth glass, popped two tablets out of the pack and handed them to his son. ‘Take these. They’ll help the pain, and they’ll help you sleep as well.’
‘Can we go home tomorrow?’ Daryl’s tear-filled voice was pleading with him.
‘Okay,’ he said reluctantly. Carl had known they couldn’t stay here indefinitely, but he’d have to make the house secure. He didn’t want any of Grausohn’s thugs getting in.
‘We’ll check out after breakfast.’ Daryl gave a watery smile and took the tablets.
Ten minutes later, he was asleep, but his dad was awake. Carl’s life was falling apart, and he had no idea what to do about it.
They checked out of the Travelodge and, fifteen minutes later, pulled onto the drive. Carl made Daryl wait in the car while he checked out the house; he was soon satisfied that nothing had been disturbed, and he helped Daryl out of the car and into the lounge.
Daryl sat down with a sigh of relief.
‘I’ll get the sun loungers, and then, you can sit out for a bit. That okay?’
Daryl nodded and wondered why his dad was being so caring. He’d spent eleven years trying to avoid contact with his son, and now, suddenly, it had all changed.
Carl helped him into the garden, after seeing how Daryl winced when he put weight on his knee. After a quick glance through the fridge, Carl realised they needed to get some food in, but knew he couldn’t take Daryl and definitely couldn’t leave him in the house.
He rang Aileen and explained the situation; within half an hour, she was pulling up outside. He handed her a wad of money and a list, then swiftly kissed her cheek as she left the house.
Carl sat with Daryl in the garden, chatting properly to his son, something he couldn’t ever remember doing before. They talked about Sheffield Wednesday, about Daryl’s friends, who he said he really wanted to see, and about Megan.
Neither of them could see a way through the next few weeks, not without Megan there. For so long, it had been Daryl and his mum, and now, there was nothing except a tentative relationship with a father Daryl was unsure about, and a rocky relationship with a son Carl was nervous about.
After nearly an hour of learning how to live together, Carl stood. He ruffled Daryl’s hair. ‘That sounds like Aileen bringing us food.’
Daryl grinned. ‘Thank goodness. Can you cook?’
‘Of course, cheeky blighter.’ Carl heard the knock on the door and went to help Aileen in with the groceries.
They piled them onto the kitchen table, and Carl started to empty the bags.
‘Not yet,’ Aileen said quietly. ‘Come upstairs.’
Carl looked startled. ‘Daryl’s in the back garden!’
‘Not for sex, numpty. Come into your front bedroom with me.’
He followed her upstairs, puzzled by her attitude.
She pulled the curtain fully open. ‘Look,’ she said. ‘See that car? There’s a bloke in it that I’m sure I know, and I think it’s to do with Vinnie. He’s watching this house. Do you know him?’
Carl edged his way forward and stared down to the road. ‘Shit. It’s Kenny Lancaster. Vinnie was involved with him?’
‘I think so. So, you do know him?’
Carl nodded. ‘I do, and it ends now. He knows I’ve lost Megan, and I’ve got Daryl injured. Can you wait with Daryl while I go and sort this?’
‘Sure. I thought I’d cook the pair of you a meal. That okay?’
‘It’s fine, but I’ll be taking the sharpest knife with me.’ His tone was grim.
He ran downstairs and into the kitchen, leaving Aileen in the bedroom. She stared out of the window, her eyes never leaving the man Carl had said was Kenny Lancaster. Was he the one who'd ordered the kill on her Vinnie?
She heard the front door slam and saw Carl dash across the road towards the car. She couldn’t watch. Carl was an angry man; heaven knows what would ensue out on that road. She turned away from the window and went downstairs to join Daryl.
Daryl looked up, shielding his eyes fro
m the sun. ‘Hi, Mrs Walmsley. Dad said you’d gone shopping for us.’
‘Already done, Daryl. I need to know what you like and what you don’t like. I’m cooking a meal for you and your dad for tonight.’
‘Jelly,’ Daryl said.
‘Is that it?’
‘And ice cream.’
‘What about real food? Like vegetables, and such stuff.’ She was trying to keep her face straight.
He shook his head. ‘Nah, don’t like them.’
‘Did your mum make you eat them?’
He shrugged. ‘Well…’
‘Right,’ and this time, Aileen couldn’t stop the smile, ‘this is what’s going to happen. I’ve picked up some pork chops, which we’re going to have with carrots, cabbage and mashed potato. How does that sound?’
‘Cabbage?’
‘Cabbage.’
‘Can we have jelly after?’
‘Not today, it takes too long to set. I’ll make one, though, and you can have it tomorrow. Deal?’
‘Deal.’ Daryl gave in gracefully. This one was like his mum; it didn’t seem as if he was going to get away with anything with Mrs Walmsley, any more than he could with his mum.
‘I’ll make the jelly now,’ Aileen said, and turned to enter the kitchen. She’d won that round, now to get him to eat the cabbage.
Chapter 16
Carl walked up to the open window of the car and leaned in, his hand on the knife in his pocket. ‘Looking for me, Kenny?’
Kenny nodded. ‘I am. Get in.’ He pointed to the passenger seat.
‘Do I look stupid?’
‘No, I’m sure you’re not. I’m here to talk to you. You got half an hour or so?’
Carl didn’t know how to respond. He knew Kenny killed without thinking twice about it; he’d guessed the man was involved in Ella’s death, and he knew for a fact he’d been part of Johanna’s disappearance. He hesitated, and Kenny waited.