Dead Jealous

by Helen H. Durrant

  “And you need to wake up. If you don’t, there’ll be a whole lot more where that came from. Idiot! You’ve let them walk all over you.” Sean threw the cloth bag onto the table, and looked his brother up and down. “You need to toughen up, sunshine. A bruise or two will do you good. You’re far too smart-looking for starters. Them women will think you’re a poofter.”

  Ricky rubbed his face. “There was no need for that! I do my best, you know.”

  “No, you don’t. You ponce up and down them decks, smiling, drinking their tea. It’s not what’s needed. You have to force them to pay up, even if it takes a bit of unfriendly persuasion.” Sean Hopwood’s sneer revealed a mouthful of rotting teeth. He eyed the bruise that was rapidly developing on his brother’s face. “Where do you think the money comes from to buy those fancy clothes? Like I said, you need to be more careful. Give me the book. I’ll pay one or two of the punters a little visit and I won’t be so damned agreeable. I give a couple of these a slap or two and word will soon get round.”

  “Some copper was nosing about. He warned me off. Threatened to get shirty if I leant on the punters too hard.”

  “The law can’t touch us, Ricky boy. Remember, we’re legit. I’ve told you, those people need us.”

  Ricky was at the mirror again, pawing at his cheek.

  Sean had had enough. “Give over! You should try giving the business as much attention as you give that pretty face of yours. Like having a roof over your head, do you? Because if you don’t shape up, this fancy house will have to go.” Sean was sick and tired of carrying Ricky. He’d been doing it all his life. The boy couldn’t do a thing right. It had always been that way, and he was worn out with covering his back.

  “That girl,” said Ricky, “Flora Appleton. She’s been found dead, murdered so they are saying. Her mum was cut up, shouting abuse, and blaming everyone for what happened, including me.”

  Sean stared at his brother. “She’s wrong though, isn’t she? Tell me you weren’t involved in that girl’s death.”

  Ricky’s face reddened. “I wasn’t! I liked Flora. I wouldn’t hurt her.”

  “Is that why the mother didn’t pay up?” Sean grabbed the book and checked against her name. “Nothing! Neither that bitch nor that waster that calls himself Kyle’s father have offered a bean.” Sean Hopwood was seething. His younger brother was too dumb to realise when he was being taken for an idiot. “That killing had nowt to do with us. Her mother is using it to duck out of paying what she owes. That won’t wash with me. She’ll be first on the list for later.”

  “Mrs Appleton is distraught. She’s far too upset and angry about what happened to bother with me. Can’t say I blame her either. It must be dreadful to lose someone like that. I’m going to miss her too. Me and Flora spent a lot of time together. We might even have got serious given half a chance. What if the woman goes to the police? Tells them we’re hassling her? They will ask me some awkward questions.”

  “Mrs Appleton! Listen to yourself! You sound like you’re selling insurance. You’re a debt collector, kid. You have to be hard. At the first sign of softness the bastards will walk all over you. Forget the girl! She’s bought it, hasn’t she? Nowt to do with you, so don’t get involved.”

  The boy just didn’t have the right stuff. Sean had tried to toughen him up, but Ricky hadn’t learnt a thing. “You go on that estate to do your job, and that’s it. I’ve told you, the more you bring in, the more I pay you. Don’t collect, don’t earn. Simple as that. I don’t want you hanging around with that idiot Kyle and his mates either. Or with some random girl. That Kyle is no good for you or anyone else. All he does is dish out blow and booze.” Ricky was still fussing with his face. Sean Hopwood sighed. “You need to get real, kid. This is a business. They don’t pay, we don’t eat.”

  “I’ve been mates with Kyle since school.”

  “Well, you’re not mates anymore. And less of the back-chat! You do as you’re told!”

  “What are you going to do about the non-payers? You won’t hurt anyone too much, will you? The police are all over the Hobfield because of the murder. We will get into bother if you are heavy-handed with the punters.”

  Sean’s eyes narrowed. “I’ll do whatever I want. No one will tell on us, boy. They know better than to grass up Sean Hopwood.”

  * * *

  Sean Hopwood waited until it was dark before going in search of Bernie Logan. He knew Bernie’s habits of old. He would spend all day in the Pheasant getting tanked up, and then he’d stagger home. Well, if he had money for booze, he could sodding well pay his debts.

  Sean waited in the alley that ran along the side of Heron House. He was prepared to hang around all night if necessary, but he was in luck. Logan returned just before nine. Now for that much-needed lesson.

  The first punch came at Bernie out of nowhere. “Bastard! Let go of me!” he screamed. He tried to defend himself, flailing his fists about, trying to connect with Sean’s face. But he was too drunk. It was impossible to fight back when he couldn’t even walk straight.

  Sean grabbed him by the scruff of his neck, pulling his head back. Then he let go, allowing Bernie to fall forward. Bernie fell face down on the ground, winded. Sean rolled him over.

  He jabbed his finger into Bernie’s chest. “First, I want my money. Then I want you to tell that scroat of a son of yours to lay off bothering our Ricky. I don’t want to hear that they’ve been hanging out together. Got it?”

  “I’ve got no money!” Bernie protested with a groan. “I’m not working and Kyle earns a pittance.”

  “You’ve got money to buy booze in that pub. Where does that come from?”

  “Kyle makes a little, here and there. He keeps me sorted.”

  “He’s still dealing around the estate. He’s been seen, people talk. If I see you or him anywhere near Ricky, I’ll tear your bloody heads off.”

  “I’ve got nowt left,” Bernie insisted. “Check, see for yourself. Me pockets are empty.”

  Sean had heard enough excuses from this lot to last him a lifetime. He smashed his fist into Bernie’s face. Blood poured from Bernie’s nose. He cried out, but now Sean was beside himself. He couldn’t stop. He rained down blow after blow, thick and fast. Finally he stood up, breathing heavily, but he hadn’t finished yet. A hefty kick to Bernie’s kidneys made him scream in agony. He coughed and rolled into a tight ball. Sean landed several more savage kicks, then one last brutal stamp on Bernie’s head. Bernie lay still.

  Leaving Bernie, Sean took the lift up to the tenth floor. He was out of condition and his heart pounded. Impelled by rage and adrenalin, he was in no mood to listen to another whining sob story. He hammered on Dolly Appleton’s door until his fist hurt. “Open up, bitch, or I’ll kick the bugger in!”

  He was pissed off with the lot of them. They were taking him for a fool. He banged again, and then peered in through the thin curtains. All the lights were off. She was either out or asleep. He banged again. Nothing.

  She needed a lesson. They all did. He took an empty fag packet from his pocket and drenched it in lighter fuel. Setting it alight, he then hurriedly shoved the burning cardboard through the letterbox. That’d teach the bitch.

  Chapter 9

  Jake was sitting at the kitchen table, working his way through a pile of exercise books. Beside him, in his highchair, was his eighteen-month-old son, Harry. The child was trying to feed himself, and getting the food everywhere but in his mouth.

  Ruth looked across at them from the washing machine. “Give him a hand. Poor mite hasn’t got the hang of it yet.”

  “These need doing tonight.” Jake slapped the book he’d been marking down onto the table. “I can’t concentrate in here. We need a study.”

  Same old, same old. Jake’s attitude had gotten beyond a joke. Ruth looked at the man she lived with, the man who’d fathered her son. He was good-looking, intelligent. She’d fallen for him immediately. It seemed like a lifetime ago now. Ruth continued sorting through a pile of clean
washing and heaved a sigh. Where had it all gone wrong? The romance had simply evaporated from their relationship, like steam from a kettle. There were days now when Ruth truly disliked Jake Ireson.

  “What you need, sunshine, is a change of attitude long before we even consider a study. Anyway, where would we put it?”

  Jake grunted. “There’s nothing wrong with my attitude. I have to work, so I need the space. That’s all.”

  “We don’t have a spare bedroom. So it’s either here or in the shed.”

  “Now you’re being facetious.”

  “No, Jake. What I am is fed up. You do this night after night. I get a couple of words out of you at most. These days you mope around with a face I just want to punch!”

  He got up. “I’ll go work in the bedroom. Try to keep Harry quiet when you sort him for bed.”

  “You sort him! For God’s sake, Jake, I’ve worked all day too. And I did the shopping, and I cooked your tea. I was hoping for an hour or two of down-time.”

  Harry started to cry. His face crumpled, and the tears rolled down his plump cheeks. “Look what you’ve done now,” Jake snapped. “Happy with yourself?” He scooped up the books and hurried off. He mounted the stairs two at a time and slammed the bedroom door shut behind him.

  Ruth flopped down into the chair beside Harry. She offered a spoonful of lukewarm food to the child. “Here you are, sweetie. Daddy’s in one of his moods again, silly sod.” Harry laughed and tried to snatch the spoon from her hand. “Independent streak, eh? We’ll have to watch that.” Ruth kissed his nose. Harry giggled and grabbed at his tea with his fingers.

  This thing with Jake was getting no better. He refused to do anything with Harry. His head was always buried in a pile of books. Ruth couldn’t go on like this. These arguments weren’t fair on the child. She didn’t want Harry growing up in a home where his parents were constantly at each other’s throats. She’d have to have a serious talk with him, and the sooner the better.

  * * *

  It was gone eleven at night. As soon as he heard Ruth’s ringtone, Jake began to make disapproving noises. For two pins, she’d blast him, but Harry had been cranky and she didn’t want their raised voices waking him up now he’d finally gone down.

  The call was from Calladine. He sounded fed up.

  “There have been a couple of incidents on the Hobfield. Bernie Logan has been hospitalised. He was found outside Heron House, beaten and unconscious. And someone tried to torch Dolly Appleton’s flat. As if she doesn’t have enough on her plate.”

  “Someone’s been busy,” said Ruth.

  “I’d lay odds it was Sean Hopwood. No one saw anything at Dolly’s flat, but we might be in with a chance once Logan comes round.”

  “Was there much damage?”

  “Thankfully not. A neighbour raised the alarm but the blaze had already burnt itself out on the mat just inside the door. There was a lot of smoke, that’s all. Fortunately Dolly was unharmed.”

  “Shall I meet you at the hospital?”

  “No, no, I’ve rung to keep you informed, that’s all. I can manage on my own. I’m thinking Harry and all that stuff.”

  “All that stuff is sitting beside me now, sulking.”

  It was meant to be amusing, but Jake didn’t see the joke. With a face like thunder, he grabbed a book and made for the stairs. “Jake is being a prima donna about his workload. He should try our job! No. I’ll come. That man needs a lesson.”

  Ten minutes later, she was pulling out of the drive. Jake was looking after Harry whether he liked it or not. She had real work to do. She knew this was below the belt, Jake’s job was important too. But he worked with school kids, hardly as tough as collaring murderous villains.

  * * *

  Calladine was waiting for her in the reception area of the emergency department. “He’s come round. The nurse says we can see him once they’ve cleaned him up. He took a lot of vicious punches to the face and head. He was kicked several times, including one to the guts. They want to keep him in but he’s refusing to stay. Worried about his flat, I think.”

  “Do we think it was the same person who set fire to Dolly Appleton’s place?” Ruth asked.

  “Forensics will help us work that out, hopefully. My money’s on Hopwood. Both Logan and Dolly are clients of his.”

  She shook her head. “So is most of that estate.”

  “Ricky was having trouble getting his money earlier. Dolly couldn’t pay, remember?”

  Ruth made no comment. “Where was she when it happened?”

  “She was asleep in bed. Her GP had given her a sedative. She was lucky, it could have been much worse. I’ve got uniform looking for Sean Hopwood. All we need is for Logan to tell us the truth and we’ve got him.”

  They walked along the quiet hospital corridors to a side room where Bernie Logan lay recovering.

  “Who did you upset, Mr Logan?” Calladine peered at the man’s face and saw the bruise rapidly spreading across one temple. He could have been killed. This level of violence was way over the top. “Someone meant business. You were lucky to get out alive.”

  “Got nowt to say. Didn’t see the bastard. Crept up behind me.” Bernie turned his face away.

  Calladine heaved a sigh. “Didn’t he say anything? Surely you must have some idea of who your attacker was?”

  “No, not a clue. Like I said, swiped me from behind.”

  Calladine didn’t believe him for a minute. “You weren’t the only one targeted. Dolly Appleton was lucky not to have her flat burnt down. Lighted paper, or something like it, was pushed through her letterbox.”

  “Nowt do with me. It was dark. He were a big bugger. That’s all I know.”

  “Did he rob you, Mr Logan?” Ruth asked.

  “No, lass. Got nowt worth having.”

  Calladine shook his head. “You’ve got Hopwood chasing your tail. You haven’t paid your debts. Dolly is in the same boat. Did he threaten you?”

  Logan squinted against the bright light of the cubicle. “That bastard threatens everyone. Doesn’t mean he does owt about it. Hopwood gets paid when we can afford it. He knows the score.”

  Calladine leaned forward. “You see, what bothers me, Mr Logan, is that this situation could escalate. I’m sure you are like me. You don’t want to see anyone get killed.”

  “I know what you’re doing, copper. But it won’t wash. Someone gave me a beating. I didn’t see him. I don’t know if it was Hopwood or not. The lighting on that estate ain’t up to much, as you know.”

  “Tell us what happened and we will put a stop to the intimidation.”

  Bernie snorted, and winced. “No you won’t. You’ll try, but you’ll get nowhere. Blokes like Hopwood are police-proof.”

  “Very well, if that’s how it is, we’ll leave you in peace. Let’s hope for your sake that Hopwood cools down. It doesn’t look like you’re up to defending yourself at the moment.”

  Calladine and Ruth left the room and went down the corridor towards the exit.

  “Do we speak to Dolly?” asked Ruth.

  Calladine shook his head. “No. We’ll speak to her tomorrow.”

  “Why do they protect Hopwood, Tom? Why not just come clean and let us get the villain banged up?”

  “Fear, I suppose. If we don’t get it right, if he walks from court because of some technicality, they’re in double trouble. Anyway, get rid of Sean and there is still Ricky to contend with. As yet he’s an unknown, but he is a Hopwood, and he’s had his big brother to teach him the trade. I don’t doubt he’ll be just as troublesome given time.”

  Ruth sighed. “Fancy a coffee or something?”

  “Thought you’d want to dash off back to domestic bliss. I felt guilty enough as it was, dragging you out at this hour.”

  Ruth rolled her eyes. “Bliss! Huh. Far from it. Jake and I had another spat tonight. He’s so into his job and those students of his that he won’t give his family any time or consideration. And you didn’t drag me out, I volunteered. Tru
th is, I’m losing it with him, Tom.”

  Calladine saw the sadness in Ruth’s eyes. She was upset. She’d had high hopes for her relationship with Jake. She’d been unsure about committing herself to start with, but she’d gone ahead. It was looking like she might have been right in the first place. But now things were more complicated. They’d bought a house together and of course, they had Harry. Ruth couldn’t simply walk away.

  They sat at a table in the deserted hospital canteen. “I’m on the brink of taking Harry and leaving Jake to it. It might teach him a lesson. Though I doubt whether he’d even miss us. Jake would simply heave a sigh of relief and get on with his schoolwork. Plus, we’ve nowhere to go.”

  Calladine sat facing her. “He’s not that hard-hearted. He’ll be stressed. It’s no picnic, you know, teaching them kids.”

  “It’s not a lot of fun for us either most of the time. Look at the villains we have to deal with. Currently we’ve got the murder of a young girl, a cold case and now this little lot. Give me thirty teenagers any day. But he doesn’t see that.”

  “You really are cut up, aren’t you?” Ruth looked close to tears. Calladine averted his eyes. He’d no idea what to say or do. Last time, when they’d found Imogen, he’d got it all wrong. He looked across at her. “If things get really bad and you have to get away, you can always come to mine.”

  Her face brightened. “Are you being serious, Tom? Because if you are, I might just take you up on the offer. But you have to know up front that Harry is noisy, messy and can howl the place down at times. You might regret it.”

  Calladine laughed. “Won’t bother me. I’ve got the big back bedroom and a small box-room. They’re yours if it helps. Not that I’m encouraging you to leave Jake, mind. I really don’t want to see that happen.”

  Ruth ignored this. “What about Shez? I know she stays over. Won’t she mind? It’ll take the gloss off those romantic nights in, a screaming kid and dirty nappies.”