by Edie Baylis
‘You won’t go to the police though, will you?’ Joe spluttered, a fresh wave of panic engulfing him.
Teagan shook her head. ‘I don’t know, but I won’t do anything without speaking to you first, ok? Now I really must go.’
As Teagan made her way back through the park, Joe’s parting shot of, ‘It’s on your back should anything happen to anyone else’, played on her mind.
TEAGAN RETURNED TO Footlights as slowly as possible. God knows what awaited her there and for the first time since arriving, the temptation to not return was strong - even stronger now with what Joe had dumped her with.
She fought her unwilling legs to move in the right direction as she trudged along the road. Maybe she should talk to Helen? Or ask Darren for his opinion?
Teagan bit down on her lip, the pain forcing her to concentrate. She couldn’t speak to anyone about it. Any sane person would insist on going to the police and she couldn’t say she’d blame them, but this wasn’t a normal situation by any stretch of the imagination. Regardless of what was right, wrong or indifferent, she could not put Joe in any more danger. Whatever had happened between them, she still cared for him and he’d come to her for help.
And what had Joe said she needed to do? Just get a set of keys to the house? He’d get a copy made and then bring them back. No one would ever know.
But she would know.
And she would be personally responsible for allowing those men to have access to Dulcie’s house. How could she give someone a free rein to do that? The whole thing was crazy. How could she pretend she was ok with that? Furthermore, how would she ever sleep again knowing these people had keys and could appear at any given time?
Reluctantly opening the front door, Teagan stared at the keys in her hand. She couldn’t just hand them over. She wouldn’t. She couldn’t sell out and leave Dulcie at the mercy of nutters, she just couldn’t.
What did those men think was hidden here?
Wait a minute...
Teagan suddenly felt the creeping suspicion that all of this was nothing to do with Dulcie at all, but everything to do with Joe and Joe alone.
Her eyes narrowed. This was him, wasn’t it? Joe owed those men money for drugs. She would bet her life it was that. He was always up to his neck over that stupid stuff he smoked. He’d promised he’d stop taking it, but then he’d promised a lot of things...
Anger rose. Joe had got in over his head with some kind of nutter dealers – owed them money for a shed load of weed or something, hadn’t he? She knew it, she just knew it!
Knowing Joe and the lies that spewed from his mouth, he’d panicked when they’d turned up at his place and told them he’d given her the money or something like that...
Teagan felt sick. Would Joe really do something like that to her? Would he actually have lied to those type of people and say she’d got what he owed them? She closed her eyes in despair.
Yes, he would. That was why he’d looked so strange when he’d unexpectedly turned up at Dulcie’s the other day. And that was why he’d pretended he wanted her back – not because he did – he just wanted to butter her up because he’d used her as an excuse. The bastard.
‘You’re back early, dear.’
Tensing at Dulcie’s voice, Teagan turned to see her walking up the hallway with a big smile on her face. All the previous aggression and anger this morning was nowhere to be seen. Breathing an inward sigh of relief, Teagan then stiffened with the stark reminder of what had happened.
She could scarcely believe that for a moment back there at the park she’d even given what Joe had asked a second of credibility. That she’d actually considered whether it was something she would do for him.
Teagan was incensed beyond belief at herself for taking even a millisecond to see through Joe’s lies and work out what was really going on.
Joe would be dealing with his own bloody mess.
Teagan’s nerves jangled harder, getting a horrible feeling that Alan wouldn’t be the only casualty resulting from Joe’s pathetic games. But she had to put her foot down. She was not going to take the rap for his bad choices and lies.
Teagan looked at Dulcie, excitedly beckoning her towards a freshly made jug of homemade lemonade and made her way over, dragging a convincing smile onto her face as she went.
Joe had better put this right and quickly. If anything happened to her or worse, Dulcie, because of his drug habit, greediness and the need to lie to those thugs to save his own neck, then she’d definitely be going to the police to drop him right in it.
Twenty Five
‘WHAT DO YOU THINK HAS HAPPENED TO HIM?’ James asked, watching Helen aimlessly pushing her toast around her plate.
‘Why does everyone assume I know?’ Helen snapped, fury already steadily building and it wasn’t even 7am.
By the time she’d got out of the shower she’d hoped James had already left for work, but no... here he was with more questions, just like yesterday.
The minute she’d got home last night, James had greeted her with one of those expressions – the type reserved for people who had received bad news. The sort used when a sympathetic attitude was needed. She knew when to use those because she put them into play on a frequent basis herself.
Yes, she’d known by the simpering look on his face he must have heard the local news and probably the following update that Ken Manning’s close friends and colleagues had been questioned for clues as to his whereabouts and James would know that included her.
James presumed she was worried sick about Ken’s out of character disappearance - after all, she was one of the last ones to see him and she was worried sick. But not about Ken.
Helen was far more on edge about what Ken’s walkabout meant for her and the deal on the apartment. How could she move fast if he wasn’t here to tell her what the next stage was and where he was at with the contracts? If it wasn’t for James, she’d have been better informed being as Ken had been about to tell her.
‘Why are you staring at me?’ Helen barked.
‘Because you haven’t answered my question.’
‘Are you insinuating that I know something about his disappearance?’
‘W-What? No of course not! I...’
‘I’ve already been grilled by the police and now you’re doing it!’ Helen snapped. ‘I wish people, including you would remember that when we - yes, we left the function the other night, Ken was still there.’
She glared at her husband. ‘Apparently, he left shortly afterwards and hasn’t been seen since, so what are you saying? That I somehow sneaked out of bed in the middle of the night, teleported to his house, convinced him to leave his car on the drive and talked him into wandering off into outer space?’
‘There’s no need to be sarcastic,’ James muttered, hurt plastered across his face. ‘I’m just worried that you’re upset, that’s all.’
‘Of course I’m damn well upset!’ Helen screeched. ‘I’ve known Ken for years. He’s a good friend.’ No, he’s not and I’m not upset – I’m angry. I couldn’t give two hoots about Ken, but I’m depending on him right now. How dare he do a runner. This would slow everything up.
‘Ok, ok – don’t get str...’
‘Oh, shut up, James. Just shut up!’ Helen slammed her plate down on the thick oak table and watched James flinch as the china broke into two pieces with a satisfying crack. She stood up and glared at him. ‘Why can’t you just leave me be? You make me fucking sick!’
James sat in silence as Helen stormed from the room, despair weighing heavily in the pit of his stomach. Helen needed help – much more than he was capable of offering. She was in a bad enough way before, but this stress about Ken had pushed her over the edge. Should he go and ask Dulcie for her advice?
He pursed his lips. It was pointless. Helen frequently said how much worse the state of Dulcie’s mind had got, therefore expecting anything rational from the woman was slim and, in a way, he felt guilty. He’d accompanied Helen plenty of times over the year
s when visiting Dulcie, but she’d refused point blank to let him come with her these past few months – saying seeing her mother the way she now was would be too upsetting.
Admittedly, James knew he hadn’t pushed the point, accepting Helen’s decision a bit too readily. Mental illness freaked him out and he was ashamed to say he’d felt better not witnessing it, but now... now his choice had come back to haunt him. His own wife was now suffering with a mental illness, or worse...
MIKE THUMBED THROUGH last weeks’ sales figures. Not bad, but nowhere near what he needed to keep on top of the debts and the overheads for this bloody place.
He glanced around the massive showroom. He shouldn’t have bought this place, but how was he supposed to maintain the impression of being the go-to dealer if his cars were stacked up in some crummy gaff under a bridge at the arse end of nowhere?
Mike’s jaw set determinedly. It would all come good. He just needed Heath to hurry up and secure this wedge. But was he hedging all of his bets on an unreliable pipe dream?
Seeing movement outside his fishbowl of an office, he glanced up, relieved to see it was Heath, rather than the postman with another sack of overdue invoices.
‘Morning,’ Heath grinned, pulling out the chair opposite his father’s desk. ‘All ok?’
Mike forced a smile. ‘Not too bad. Now, have you got any news for me? How did it go with the girl? Did you get anywhere?’
Heath’s face cracked into a wide smile. ‘Teagan was nicer than I’d expected. We got on really well and I’m seeing her again.’
Mike’s mouth flattened into an unimpressed line. ‘That’s all very well and good and I hate to spoil your fun, but we need to move on this.’
‘Ok, ok, but I can’t just magic up things. It’ll take me a few more weeks of wining and dining her before I can get into the house. She doesn’t seem the type to want a quick lay, if you get my drift, but once I’ve g...’
‘A few weeks?’ Mike cried. ‘Christ! I haven’t got that sort of time.’
Heath sat forward. ‘What’s wrong, Dad? I mean, really? You know as well as I do that things like this can’t happen overnight, so what’s the big rush?’
Mike exhaled, his whole body visibly shrinking. ‘I’m in the shit, son... The finances... I’m behind with, well... just about fucking everything.’ He wiped the back of his hand across his forehead. ‘If I can’t come up with a good chunk of cash soon then this place will go under.’
Heath slumped back in shock. He knew things were tight, what with expanding to bigger premises, but not in dire straits. ‘Does Mum know?’
Mike shook his head. ‘No and she’s not going to either. I don’t want her worrying.’ His fingers fidgeted over the sheaf of paper in his hand. ‘There’s nowhere else I can go to get interim loans. I’ve outstayed my welcome pretty much everywhere and now my credit is fucked, no one will touch me with a bargepole.’
‘How much to do you need to buy a bit more time?’ Heath asked. ‘I’ve got a couple of grand put by, plus I should be able to swing a loan for, say, 5k. Would that help?’
Mike’s humiliation felt absolute. ‘Thanks, son, but I wouldn’t take your money even if it was an option.’
‘It is an option,’ Heath said. ‘It’s in my interests too remember! This is my job an...’
Mike could barely bring himself to look at his son. ‘Look, I need at least 40k to cover the loans, the late payments and a missed invoice that I can’t drag out any longer.’
‘Forty grand? What? For one month?’ Heath’s mouth hung open. ‘I didn’t realise it was that extreme. Shit, Dad.’
Mike shook his head dejectedly. ‘No one does. Why do you think I haven’t said anything. Jesus Christ, within the next couple of months, unless something drastic happens, I’m going to lose not just the business, but the house too.’ He put his head in his hands. ‘How can I do this to your mother?’
Heath sat back in his chair. He’d have to make sure something happened then, wouldn’t he? He couldn’t stand by and let everything his father had worked for go down the pan. What he’d worked for too. Not when there was a chance there was a fortune to be had sitting just out of their reach.
He pulled out his mobile, looking at the call log listing the missed calls from Helen Shepherd from yesterday. He’d never got around to phoning her back and she hadn’t called since either. Perhaps his father’s idea to abandon the Helen Shepherd route wasn’t the best way to go after all. Pursuing the house tactic wasn’t the greatest use of time, true, but there could be another way...
Heath ran his tongue over his teeth and leant his elbow on his father’s desk – the desk that should eventually be his. ‘I think under the circumstances we’ve got nothing to lose by trying Plan C on Helen Shepherd.’
‘Plan C?’ Mike looked at Heath quizzically. ‘What’s that then?’
Grinning, Heath leant back in the chair and prepared to outline his idea.
‘AS I SAID BEFORE, we’re running behind with the collections, but we’re just about keeping on top of it,’ Nero said, his long legs stretched out in front of him.
He hadn’t been looking forward to today’s daily meet with Jonah after the latest set of events had hit the papers. Although Jonah had taken his explanation well, understanding the situation was limited where Ken Manning was concerned, he knew it was attention they could do without ending up being brought to the firm’s door.
Nero watched Jonah peruse the folder of debtors, wondering whether that would be the next thing in line for the chopping block. He’d previously warned against taking too much time out from the collection side of the business for the Dulcie Adams stuff, but Jonah was like a dog with a bone where that subject was concerned. And he couldn’t say he blamed him, but still, he didn’t want his neck in the noose for falling behind.
Everyone knew that falling behind on chasing debts gave the impression that people could get away with taking the piss. Something that would never be allowed to happen.
‘There’s a couple more of the boys who can be rerostered to work on those.’ Nero leant over to point at a list on the page Jonah had open. ‘I can’t pull any more of the lads off other duties as we’re a bit stretched.’
He frowned, unsure whether to broach his other idea, but figured it was worth a try. It would mean a bit more breathing space to catch up with what had fallen behind. ‘Maybe it might be worth thinking about putting a couple of the other men on Dulcie Adams stuff, rather than us?’ he suggested. ‘I mean, it might...’
‘Absolutely not!’ Jonah barked, his blue eyes flashing. ‘You and Keith are dealing with it - no one else. It’s too important. We do, however need to pull back on putting the pressure on Joe Simpleton, or whatever his fucking name is. It’s a pain in the arse, but it’s only until the dust settles.’ He frowned. ‘Have you heard any more about how the one in hospital is?’
Nero shook his head. ‘Nope. No more reports on that. He’s still in a coma as far as I know.’
Jonah grinned. ‘At least it’s not a murder charge then as yet!’
‘One of the lads on the collection team, his brother-in-law is a porter at the hospital. I could get him to put the feelers out. Discreetly, I mean.’
Jonah shook his head. ‘No. We don’t want anything getting back that we’re interested. It wouldn’t look good.’
Nero pursed his lips. He felt horribly responsible for the case being put on hold because of what had happened to the stoner’s mate and Manning - annoyed that progress had been slowed courtesy of a fucking suit and a bloody stoner who had fuck all to do with it.
Keith and his bloody heavy-handed tactics. Although there hadn’t been a lot of choice about finishing Manning off – that one was a bleater for definite, but the lad – that was a different story.
Nero grated his teeth, feeling he wasn’t delivering for Jonah, nor his father - of whom he’d respected greatly. He didn’t appreciate not being able to sort this. He was renowned for delivering and he wasn’t. Far from it. The
one thing that had haunted the firm for decades and the ability to sort it out was being scuppered by the likes of tossers. And this didn’t sit well.
Jonah slammed the folder shut. He could see Nero was frustrated. He was too, but they had to tread carefully. Since he’d told Lena to pull her head in, he felt more able to look at this a lot more logically again.
‘Nero, you’re my most trusted man in this firm and as you well know, I don’t say that lightly,’ Jonah said. ‘I can see there wasn’t another way around it with Manning. And as for the other one – these things happen, so don’t beat yourself up.’
Keith leant forward. ‘We might have to give the Joe bloke a wide berth for a day or two, but there’s another option we could consider...’
‘And that is?’
‘Manning was quick to sell the son out – Robert Adams? He presumed we were after Robert for monies unpaid, yes?’
Nero frowned at Keith. ‘Yeah, but as he seemed to think it must have been Robert who nicked the stash, it clearly shows he knows fuck all about it.’
‘But what it does show,’ Keith grinned, ‘is that this Robert must be strapped for cash. A gambling problem, according to Manning. Any fucker who would cash in the equity on his old mum’s gaff to raise brass for his habit or debts is a prize cunt, even if his mother is that thieving old witch.’
Nero could see where this was heading and nodded. It could work.
Keith sat back in his chair, grinning proudly at his solution. ‘We offer this Robert cunt a way out of his debts, yeah? Make a nice earner for the loan side at the same time?’ he winked. ‘He will spill his gob for some brass.’
‘Gamblers usually do,’ Jonah agreed. ‘They’re nearly as desperate as junkies, that lot.’
‘I’ll get the feelers out to see where the prick lives and then we’ll give him a visit.’ Keith got to his feet, excited at the prospect of more bloodshed.