An Old Score

by Edie Baylis

  This was easier said than done being as some of the rooms had L-shaped layouts as well as alcoves. He’d also had the unenviable task of checking the cupboards. It was a hoarder’s paradise. Christ, there was enough stuff in this place to keep Antiques Roadshow going for centuries.

  Pointing the Glock up the hallway whilst doing a final double check behind him, Jonah looked at the staircase in front of him. Spotting the threadbare carpet runners, he made a mental note to watch where he put his feet. Lying at the bottle of that staircase with a broken neck wasn’t the best way to resolve this business.

  He hadn’t checked any outhouses – if there were any, but couldn’t risk going outside. Someone could be upstairs, which would give them a clear run down to the ground floor. He turned the key of the door leading to the cellar. If there was anyone down there, then they could stay there. Better to be safe, than sorry.

  Pausing, with one foot on the bottom stair, Jonah listened intently. Still nothing; not a sound. He started thinking that as well as the girl being out, so was Dulcie Adams.

  Ascending the stairs as quietly as possible, Jonah gritted his teeth as one of the stairs made the loudest groaning noise. Hastily moving to the next step, he paused and listened again. Still nothing. He’d wasted a lot of time searching the ground floor, but he’d had no choice. Someone had been here – and by the looks of it, searched for what he wanted.

  But who else could know? Who else could know this old woman was harbouring some of the rarest and most expensive diamonds?

  He was pretty sure no one was lurking in the house. Surely he’d have heard a noise, at least something, however slight by now. He’d have a quick scan around upstairs and then make a start searching through the place. If Dulcie Adams wasn’t here, then he could at least look for his stuff. He’d also get Nero and Keith in on that as three pairs of hands was better than one.

  Walking across the landing, Jonah winced at the loud and almost blinding busy wallpaper - a classic Victorian pattern with a dark background, covered with a multitude of tiny flowers and swirls. As well as making the high ceilinged landing feel depressingly gloomy, it hurt his bloody eyes. Jesus.

  A light spilled from a room along the corridor. All the other doors were shut. He knew he should probably check them, but the one with the open door had to be the first priority.

  With his back against the wall, Jonah slid along the migraine-inducing wallpaper, holding the Glock out in front of him. Slowly and carefully he peered around the side of the door jamb and froze. ‘What the fuck?’ he muttered, the rest of his body, gun poised, following him into the bright pink room.

  Lying on her back over by the window was the body of a woman. The bloom of red across the left hand side of her white blouse showcased where a bullet had entered. Her glassy eyes stared upwards, her face contorted in a terrified expression and blood spread in a wide pool over a rug bunched up underneath her body.

  Fuck. Whoever had been here had a gun. And it was the daughter on the floor – he recognised her from that web clip. The clip which had led them to uncover where Dulcie Adams was hiding in the first place.

  Jonah’s eyes darted around the room. Again, like downstairs, the room was pulled apart, the contents of a chest of drawers turned out, the dressing table in chaos. Most of the wardrobe had been emptied. Fucking shit. Whoever had been in here must have killed the daughter, taken the diamonds and Dulcie Adams because she wasn’t anywhere to be seen.

  Fuck. Shit. Fuck.

  Heart hammering, Jonah yanked his mobile from his pocket and fumbled with his gloved fingers.

  ‘Nero, it’s gone tits up!’ he panted, his mouth dry. ‘Shepherd’s here and she’s dead... No, it wasn’t me... The house has been turned over and Adams has gone. At least, I mean I haven’t found her yet.’

  Sweat poured down Jonah’s back, the crisp cotton of his white dress shirt sticking to him underneath his tuxedo jacket. ‘I’m deadly serious... Whoever’s been here has turned the place over, found the stash, offed Shepherd and fucking lifted the old cow, taking her somewhere – possibly for leverage. I don’t know?’

  He couldn’t believe this, he just couldn’t believe it.

  ‘I’m going to search now, yeah an... What? Shit! Ok.’ Jonah’s heart lurched into his throat. Tonight was going from bad to worse.

  Still holding the gun out in front of him, he shoved the phone back in his pocket. Nero hadn’t said who had just arrived, but someone had and he had to get out of here. Now.

  It could be the girl or the Old Bill. Maybe a neighbour had heard a gunshot? It made no difference. Shit, shit, SHIT.

  Swinging around, Jonah legged it along the landing and down the stairs two at a time, taking the chance that his shiny dress shoes wouldn’t snag on the loose threads of the runner.

  Forty Seven

  THE ONLY SPACE TO PARK WAS SEVEN HOUSES UP. Screeching to a halt, Robert yanked on his handbrake and jumped out of the car, not wasting a second by locking it.

  He sprinted along the road, heart thundering, If Helen had done anything to their mother... If she’d touched her he’d...

  Seeing a figure nearing the house, Robert raced on. That was Teagan! Jesus Christ, what was Teagan doing out?

  Reaching her, he grabbed her shoulder. ‘Teagan? What are y...?’

  Teagan’s terrified scream froze Robert in his tracks.

  ‘Christ, girl! It’s me – Robert!’ he barked.

  ‘R-Robert?’ Teagan stammered, her pulse rate through the roof. She looked at Robert, his rugged face waxen. ‘You scared the life out of me! What’s happened? What are you doing here?’

  ‘I could ask the same of you, but there’s no time to explain,’ Robert panted, out of breath. ‘My mother’s in danger. I’ve got to get in there.’

  Teagan followed, her mind in overdrive as Robert moved off rapidly towards the house. Dulcie was in danger? ‘Robert? What’s happened?’ She rushed to catch up with him. ‘Oh God, I knew I shouldn’t have gone out. I sensed something was up, that’s why I came back. Out of the blue Helen gave me the night off an...’

  Robert swung around, causing Teagan to run straight into his chest. He gripped her by the shoulders. ‘Helen gave you the night off?’

  Seeing Teagan nod, Robert looks skyward. ‘Christ! I knew it! Oh Jesus! Come on, we’ve got to get in there. We’ve got to stop Helen.’

  ‘Helen?’ Teagan followed Robert again. Stop Helen? Stop Helen from what? What was Robert going on about? Her brain churned. In all the occasions she’d seen Robert, he’d never looked anything but controlled and aloof, yet here he was running about like a madman, abject terror behind his eyes. The knot of growing fear increased in her gut. Something was very wrong.

  Turning into the path for Footlights, Teagan didn’t even see it coming it happened that quickly. The large figure barging into her, knocking her clean off her feet took the breath clean out of her lungs.

  ‘OIH!’ Robert roared, turning to chase after the man.

  Teagan scrabbled to her feet just as Robert reached the road, seeing a well-built, tall man open the door of a car which screeched up from nowhere. The man jumped in and the car roared away.

  Panic spiralled. She hadn’t seen the man’s face, but there were three men in that car and she knew somewhere in the recesses of her mind that they must be the men connected with Joe. She raised her hands to her mouth in terror, watching wide-eyed as Robert steamed back up the path.

  ‘Are you alright?’ Robert glanced at Teagan whilst fumbling to get his set of keys into the lock.

  ‘Y-Yes, I’m ok. T-Those men... They...’

  ‘I don’t know what the fuck is going on here, but we need to get mother away from Helen.’ Robert panted, wrestling with the door. ‘Fuck it, come on damn you!’ With a final struggle, he turned the key and rushed into the hallway.

  Teagan followed, her mouth dry, terrified to what she would find. If anything had happened to Dulcie because of what Joe had done... That man... those ones in the car... Th
ey had to be the ones that had been terrorising Joe; the ones who had murdered Alan... Oh Jesus... She could scarcely think as she rushed after Robert into the sitting room.

  ‘Mother?’ Robert yelled, his voice panicked.

  Teagan stared in horror at the room – empty, apart from the smashed glass, pottery and scattered paperwork all over the floor.

  ‘I’M TELLING YOU, IT WAS HIM,’ Heath babbled, narrowly missing running someone down on a zebra crossing. Shit – that wouldn’t be good. Pay attention!

  He tried to concentrate on the 101 questions his father was firing at him, but he couldn’t untangle his mind from what he’d seen and how at that precise second, he knew he’d had to make a sharp exit.

  Once Teagan had got out of the car he’d been planning on hanging around in the hope Helen would shortly emerge, but as his eyes followed Teagan towards Footlights, he hadn’t expected a man to run up to her. He’d scrabbled to get out of the door, initially thinking Teagan was about to get attacked, then stopped when it became quickly obvious that Teagan knew him.

  It was only then that Heath had seen the man’s face. Although he’d never seen this person before in his entire life, he’d also seen him virtually every single day. The man was a double of his bloody father.

  Heath concentrated back on the voice which yelled at him from his Bluetooth hands free speakers.

  ‘Trust me, Dad, it was Robert. Robert Adams – your brother. I know Helen said he was dead the other day... Yes, I know... But he isn’t. It was definitely him. It had to be. He looks just like you. So much like you that I thought it was you for a second.’ His father was slightly less well built, but apart from that they could have been twins. The likeness was uncanny. ‘Like I said, he looked in a right state. Very upset.’

  Heath swallowed uncomfortably. He had no idea what had gone on, but whatever it was, it had set the cat amongst the pigeons. ‘No, he didn’t see me.’ Neither the man, nor Teagan had even glanced in his direction, they’d just hurried off towards the house.

  ‘I-I’d planned on waiting – even after that. Seriously, I had, but I had no choice but to disappear, surely you can see that?’ Heath said as his father’s voice raised pitch. ‘What do you mean why? What else was I supposed to do? Someone ran out of Footlights, barged into Teagan, knocked her flying then jumped straight into a fucking car!’

  And he hadn’t even noticed the car until it had screeched up outside. It must have been there all along, watching...

  ‘No, they didn’t see me,’ Heath said. At least he hoped they hadn’t. Ducking down in the driver’s seat as the car had sped off past him and up the street, Heath didn’t think any of the three men had clocked him. But he hadn’t wanted to hang around in case they had.

  Pulling on to the motorway, Heath felt a rush of relief, grateful to be out of Maidenhead and on the route back home. ‘No, Dad. I didn’t get their registration. And I really don’t know. I didn’t get a very good look at him. All I know is he was a big fucker.’

  In answer to his father’s question, Heath wasn’t sure whether he would recognise the man he’d seen running from Footlights, but this was only because he didn’t think he wanted to.

  He normally dismissed his father’s wild and usually cynical theories, but this time he had a horrible lurking feeling that on this occasion, he could be right. And that wasn’t good.

  The big man leaving Footlights in a rush could well have been one of the Powells. And if it was, then his long awaited dreams of getting his hands on those jewels was down the toilet. And that was something he didn’t want to consider a possibility. But either way, he couldn’t go back there now. At least not yet. He would just have to wait and see what happened when Helen called him – if she called him or when he next called Teagan.

  Ending the call to his father, Heath turned the music up on his car stereo in the hope that it would drown out the clamouring in his head.

  NERO SLAMMED HIS FOOT to the accelerator as he navigated the road out of Maidenhead. ‘I couldn’t be sure it was her until she got out.’

  Jonah’s face was white with rage, his piercing eyes staring blindly out of the window, adrenalin pumping mercilessly through his veins.

  ‘So what fucker has lifted the gear and the old witch?’ Keith asked, scarcely able to believe what Jonah had told them.

  When they saw that man running down the pavement to catch up with Teagan they’d reached the house just in the nick of time. Nero reckoned the man was the same one he’d seen a few weeks’ ago whilst they’d been watching the house. He reckoned it was the son – the bloody son. What the hell he was doing there, Keith didn’t have a clue, but he’d known they literally had split seconds to spare before the girl and that bloke ran headlong into Jonah on his way out. Christ, he’d been cutting it fine.

  ‘Did the girl see your face when she ran into you?’ Nero asked.

  ‘How the fuck do I know?’ Jonah muttered, his jaw set in pure anger. This was a disaster. ‘All I know is that we need to get out of here, pronto.’

  He could scarcely believe how events had unfolded. His teeth gnashed in pure, unbridled rage. Some fucker had come in, lifted his goods and took the old woman; there was no other explanation for it, but it had left him bang in the middle, standing next to the corpse of Helen Shepherd.

  Clenching his fist, he punched the back of the driver’s seat. ‘Bastards!’ he roared. He was back to square one. Where the hell did he go from here?

  ‘And you didn’t shoot her?’ Keith said, looking over his shoulder at Jonah.

  ‘How the fuck could I shoot her when she wasn’t there? And if you mean, did I shoot the other one, no I did not. Some other fucker did. If Dulcie Adams was there, then she was hiding or fucking dead elsewhere. I barely had chance to do anything before I had to shift out of there,’ Jonah spat. Keith’s stupid questions made him want to punch the big man repeatedly in the back of the neck. Stupid, stupid questions.

  Jonah’s mobile rang again and he ripped it from his pocket. Seeing Lena’s name on the caller display he felt like his head would explode. Ignoring the call, he shoved his phone back in his pocket. Listening to her whining voice would push him well over the edge of the precipice he was clinging on to.

  ‘That was Lena – no doubt having just noticed I’ve been missing from my own engagement party for the past two hours,’ he muttered. ‘We need to think of a reason as to where we’ve been.’

  ‘I’ll sort that,’ Nero said. ‘We’ll all need an alibi by the sounds of it. An alibi for something that, for the first time in history, we’ve had fuck all to do with.’

  PANIC SURGING THROUGH HER BODY, Teagan raced up the stairs hearing Robert clattering from room to room below roaring loudly for Dulcie.

  She couldn’t afford to speculate on what had happened or what she might possibly find. All she could do was something functional – something, anything locate Helen, and more importantly, Dulcie.

  ‘Helen?’ Teagan shouted, her voice hoarse. ‘Dulcie?’ Reaching the top of the stairs, seeing the door to the pink bedroom open, she raced towards it, stumbling on the loose fitting carpet.

  Rushing into the room she immediately saw Helen lying on the floor and an ear-splitting scream escaped from her mouth. ‘Oh my God, oh my God,’ Teagan panted, nausea and fear rushing through her like anaesthesia. Helen was dead. She was DEAD. Oh Christ... Dulcie? Where was Dulcie? Please not Dulcie too?

  Tears pouring down her cheeks, Teagan inched towards Helen’s body, clearly able to see she was past saving. Her hands shook violently and she dithered from foot to foot, not able to decide what to do or even know what to do.

  ‘Robert!’ she screamed. ‘Robert! Call the police! Call the police!’ Oh God, where was Dulcie? Where was she? ‘Dulcie? Are you here?’

  Almost having a breakdown on the spot as she heard movement from under the bed, Teagan froze. Holding her breath, she squatted down and saw one of Dulcie’s bony arms poking out from under the old bedframe. ‘Oh, thank God!’ She gr
asped Dulcie’s hand. ‘Are you alright? Dulcie, are you hurt?’

  Robert crashed into the room, physically swaying as he took in the body of his sister, the gunshot wound to her chest as obvious as the sunrise. ‘Fuck! FUCK!’ he shouted, his frightened eyes meeting Teagan’s.

  ‘Robert, Dulcie’s here, she’s under the bed. Help me.’

  Robert rushed around to where Teagan squatted, helping her pull Dulcie’s tiny body out from under the bed. He wrapped his mother in his arms, anger exploding at the sight of her cut lip.

  ‘Get Dulcie out of here, Robert,’ Teagan whispered, nodding towards Helen’s body. ‘She can’t see th...’

  ‘Helen’s dead, isn’t she?’ Dulcie said, her voice tiny. ‘I-I...

  ‘Come on,’ Robert soothed, leading Dulcie out of the room, leaving Teagan to close the door behind her.

  Robert kicked open a door of another bedroom – one Teagan had never seen before; a dark-painted room with a single bed in the centre covered with a dust sheet.

  After being sat upon the bed, Dulcie looked up at her son, her blue eyes wide. She gripped his hand with shaking fingers. ‘I-I couldn’t stop her... I... Helen... She’s... I... We were having an argument... She’s been trying to poison me. She was going to sell Footlights... She admitted everything an...’

  Teagan squeezed Dulcie’s hand reassuringly. ‘We’ve been through this, Dulcie. Helen wasn’t trying t...’

  ‘But she’s right.’ Robert interrupted, looking Teagan straight in the eyes. ‘Helen was poisoning my mother. I only found out tonight – that’s why I came over.’

  ‘W-What?’ Teagan’s mind swam. ‘H-How? How was sh...’

  ‘Those vitamins. They weren’t vitamins. They were tranquilisers, anti-depressants... lots of different medication. They can mimic the effects of dementia.’

  Teagan’s mouth dropped open. So Dulcie wasn’t losing her mind? Helen had been doing it on purpose? And she had been giving Dulcie those pills? Giving her them faithfully morning and night? Oh God... ‘But why? I...’