Taking Liberties (Liberty Chapman)

by Helen Black

  ‘Well, that is unfortunate,’ says Rachel. ‘I believe that, with the court proceedings concluded, this is probably her last chance to see her father’s body.’

  ‘I see,’ says the man, and ushers us inside. ‘I’m afraid that, because I wasn’t expecting you, the cadaver hasn’t been prepared for viewing.’

  I wonder what they normally do to make a dead body presentable and if it makes any real difference.

  He takes us down a corridor where there are two doors. One’s marked ‘Preparation Room’, the other ‘Storage’. When Rachel puts her hand on the first, the man gives a cough. ‘Not that one. I was working in there when you arrived.’

  We move to Storage and go inside. It’s cold. Colder than the kitchen at Langton Manor, which is saying something. One of the walls is metal with handles attached to it and the man pulls at one and it slides towards him. Bloody hell! Dad really is in storage. He’s only in a drawer . . .

  ‘Are you sure you want to do this?’ the man asks me. ‘It can be quite traumatic.’

  ‘I’m fine,’ I say, twisting my bangle.

  He nods and steps around the drawer. It’s obviously a body in there, but it’s covered in plastic. The man begins to unroll it at the top end until I make out a tuft of dark hair. I take a step closer and I can see him now. It’s Dad, but it’s not Dad. His skin is a strange grey. His lips have no colour at all and they look all papery and dry. Mam would say they needed a good dollop of Vaseline. His eyes are closed but his mouth is slightly open and I can see his top teeth, brown from years of smoking. He smells of disinfectant.

  Apparently, there was a fight in the prison showers and someone stabbed him. Not with a proper knife, but a toothbrush with a razor blade melted into it. By the time the medics got there, he was already dead.

  ‘These things happen in prison,’ Rachel said to me, on the way here.

  I look at Dad for one last time and step away.

  ‘Thank you,’ I say to the man, and leave the room. I keep walking until I’m outside in the car park where a bit of sun is trying to peep through the clouds.

  * * *

  Sol put a Diet Coke in front of Hassani and took a long draught from his pint.

  ‘I can’t believe you went all the way to Brixton and then lost them,’ she said.

  ‘Ran out of petrol,’ he told her.

  Hassani looked in pain. ‘We’ve got nothing, Sol. Daisy’s still on the missing list so eventually the case against Rance will collapse. And we can’t budge Chapman’s alibi, so there’s nothing doing about Kyla Anderson.’

  ‘You win some, you lose some,’ Sol replied.

  ‘I don’t know whether I can do this any more.’ Hassani closed her eyes and, for a second, Sol thought she might cry. ‘I’m trying to do a good job, but it’s like I’m stood on an ocean of ice.’

  ‘Very poetic.’

  Someone turned the music on and ‘Everybody Hurts’ by R.E.M. filled the bar. Sol snorted and spat beer onto his trousers.

  ‘You think it’s funny?’ Hassani asked. She dipped her fingers into her Diet Coke, extracted an ice cube and threw it at him. He just laughed all the harder.

  When he received a text, he drained his pint. ‘Gotta go.’

  ‘I don’t know how you can just walk away from all this,’ said Hassani.

  ‘There’s more than one way to skin a cat.’

  Mel was waiting for Sol at the door of the Black Cherry. He felt surprisingly calm. And he was very curious as to what the Greenwoods would have to say.

  They were sitting at a table near the bar. Liberty, Jay and Frankie, like peas in a pod. Only Crystal, with her curly red hair, seemed to jar slightly. There was an empty chair, which he took.

  ‘What can I get you, Sol?’ Mel asked.

  ‘I’m fine, thanks,’ he replied.

  She nodded and sat on a stool at the bar. All four Greenwoods looked at him intently. They were nervous, as well they might be. Sol had to admit he was enjoying that.

  ‘Thanks for coming.’ It was Liberty who spoke.

  ‘Why wouldn’t I?’ he asked.

  ‘I can think of a lot of reasons,’ she said.

  Sol opened his palms. ‘And yet here I am.’ He looked at Mel. ‘Maybe I will get that drink.’

  ‘Beer?’ she asked.

  Sol nodded, and no one said anything further until Mel put a bottle of Bud in front of him. He picked it up and brought it to his mouth. He took a sip, wiped his lips and placed the bottle back on the table.

  ‘We’d like to know what you’re thinking, Sol,’ said Liberty.

  ‘I’m thinking I should probably drink less,’ Sol replied. ‘Not good for me at my age.’

  Liberty pursed her lips.

  ‘Oh, you mean about what happened in Brixton?’ said Sol, with a chuckle.

  ‘And the rest.’

  He took another swig of beer. Didn’t speak.

  ‘Are you going to do anything?’ Liberty asked. ‘Are you going to take it further?’

  He eyed her across the table. If she was tired after their late night, she didn’t look it. Her hair was freshly washed, hanging around her face, clean and shiny.

  What was he going to do about what had happened in Brixton? Well, he’d already lied to Hassani about it, hadn’t he? The fact was, he should never have been there. He’d put himself in a stupid situation and ended up with no perp to show for it. ‘I’m assuming that no one in this family wants to report a crime,’ he said.

  ‘What crime?’ Liberty murmured.

  Sol laughed and took another drink. He already knew that Daisy wouldn’t corroborate anything he might say about what had taken place. ‘Just tell me one thing,’ he said. ‘For my own peace of mind. What happened to Kyla Anderson?’

  Liberty leaned forward, her face serious. ‘Jay didn’t touch her.’

  ‘He went to the hospital to visit her, though.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Because?’

  ‘Because she’s a friend of his and that’s what friends do.’

  ‘What about you?’ Sol asked. ‘Are you okay with the lies you’ve told?’

  Her eyes darkened. ‘I’ve lived with a lot worse.’

  Liberty watched Sol Connolly leave with a pang of regret. She shouldn’t care what he thought of her, yet she did. Was it possible that he understood? That none of this was about truth and lies, but something much more important?

  ‘Can we trust him?’ Crystal said.

  ‘Trust a copper? Are you shitting me?’ Jay said.

  ‘He’s not going to say anything about Brixton,’ said Liberty. ‘What’s he going to do? Say, “Sorry, I forgot to report a kidnapping, but it slipped my mind. Oh and, by the way, none of the other people involved will give evidence”?’

  Mel slid off her stool and took Connolly’s empty seat. ‘She’s right. The time for him to say anything to the powers-that-be has been and gone.’

  ‘So we’re in the clear?’ Frankie asked.

  Jay cuffed him around the back of the head. ‘For now, maybe. But something tells me we’re going to be hearing from DI Connolly again.’

  The door opened behind them and Liberty expected him to be there with another question. When she saw who it was, her heart raced.

  ‘Well, ain’t this nice?’ said Brixton Dave. ‘We’ve got the band back together.’

  Jay stood, knocking over Connolly’s empty beer bottle, but Brixton Dave had a gun aimed at him. Behind him was Dax, also holding a gun, though his was aimed at Liberty.

  ‘Where’s my little Daisy, though?’ said Brixton Dave. ‘It’s not the same without her cheeky face, is it?’

  If he’d seemed out of control before, today he was almost manic. His nose was swollen, with a large cut across the bridge, and both eyes were black. He moved his jaw up and down mechanically and hopped from side to side in a perpetual motion. Even Dax looked at him with a wary eye.

  ‘What do you want?’ Jay asked, his voice impassive.

  Brixton Dave laughed
. A horrible high-pitched cackle. ‘Hear that, Dax? They want to know what we want.’ He strode towards the table, yanked it with his free hand, upturning it so glasses and bottles crashed to the floor, shards of glass skittering across the room. The barrel of his gun was now less than a foot from Jay’s forehead. If he fired, Jay’s skull would hit the door at the back of the bar.

  Liberty glanced at Dax. He was still locked onto her own face with his weapon, further away than Brixton Dave, but easily able to kill her with one shot. The fear was like a physical pain in her stomach.

  ‘Nothing to say, Frankie, mate?’ said Brixton Dave. ‘I mean, you left in such a hurry yesterday.’

  ‘Dave—’ Frankie began, but Jay silenced him with a look.

  ‘Oh, yeah, I see what Frankie means now,’ said Brixton Dave. ‘You think you’re the right old big swinging dick, don’t you? The top boy, eh? King of the manor?’ He looked around the Black Cherry. ‘Except your manor’s a fucking shithole. So what does that make you? King of a shithole.’ He let out another peal of screeched laughter. ‘Sit down,’ he told Jay.

  Jay sat. His face gave nothing away, but a tiny muscle was pulsing at the corner of his mouth.

  ‘Excellent,’ said Brixton Dave. ‘Look how much happier we all are when we play nicely. Now who’s got the keys to this place?’

  No one moved. Or spoke. Brixton Dave crunched through the broken glass and pushed the muzzle of his gun into Jay’s face. Jay didn’t flinch. Then, without warning, Brixton Dave snapped the gun away and pointed it at Frankie. Unlike Jay, Frankie let out a whimper.

  ‘So.’ Brixton Dave grinned. ‘Keys?’

  There was another pause, the silence punctuated only by Frankie’s ragged breathing.

  ‘Oh, for God’s sake,’ said Mel, and reached into the pocket of her leather trousers for a fob of keys. They jangled as she let them dangle from her finger. Brixton Dave winked at her and gestured to Dax to take them. The young lad did as he was told and headed to the door.

  Liberty exhaled loudly, relieved that his gun was no longer trained on her.

  ‘Don’t get too comfortable, Princess,’ said Brixton Dave. ‘There’s still a lot of work to be done.’ He pressed his gun so close to Frankie that the metal touched the skin of his temple. Frankie closed his eyes. ‘If I pulled the trigger, there’d be quite a mess here. Serious amounts of claret.’ He applied more pressure, forcing Frankie’s head sideways. ‘And all the other shit. Bone, hair, brains, you’d be surprised how fucking horrible it is.’

  Dax came back and stood close to the group.

  ‘Where’s the safe?’ said Brixton Dave.

  Again, no one spoke.

  ‘This is getting boring now,’ said Brixton Dave, and Liberty heard the click as he removed the safety catch of his gun. ‘I don’t wanna hurt anyone but, to be honest, I don’t care if I do. Your call.’

  Liberty didn’t know much about guns. But she knew enough to understand that, once the safety was off, even the smallest pressure on the trigger was dangerous. If Brixton Dave tripped right now, he would blow Frankie’s head clean off.

  ‘It’s in the office,’ said Crystal. ‘I’ll show you.’

  With the gun still glued to Frankie, Brixton Dave flashed a smile at Crystal. ‘Well, thank you for your kind offer, but Dax is gonna go with this one.’ He jerked his head at Liberty. ‘Ain’t that right, Dax?’

  Dax just grunted and Liberty’s heart sank.

  ‘She doesn’t know where it is,’ said Crystal. ‘And she doesn’t have the combination.’

  Brixton Dave tutted loudly. ‘What sort of family business is it where the big sis doesn’t get access to the money?’

  ‘She’s not part of the business,’ said Crystal. ‘She doesn’t even live round here.’

  Brixton Dave nodded as if he understood and dropped his voice to a whisper. ‘I get what you’re telling me. But here’s the thing. She kind of made this her business when she came sniffing around.’ He looked at Liberty now, his eyes dead. ‘And when she kicked me in the meat and two veg.’

  Dax skirted the group, until he was standing at Liberty’s shoulder.

  ‘Off you pop,’ said Brixton Dave.

  ‘It’s behind the mirror,’ said Jay, without looking at her.

  ‘Combination?’ Liberty asked.

  ‘Jimmy Greenwood’s birthday.’

  Liberty stared at her brother. He used that as his code? Dad’s birthday?

  ‘Move,’ said Brixton Dave.

  Liberty got up and felt the hardness of steel in her lower back.

  She felt unsteady on her feet as she dragged them through the broken glass. A particularly sharp piece glinted up at her. For a second she considered trying to grasp it to defend herself, but she knew that Dax would put a bullet through her spine before she’d even got to the floor.

  She walked across the bar to the office and opened the door. Jay had had numerous deliveries and his desk was piled with boxes, one for Leather Bondage Bralettes. The picture on the side was of a woman on a bed wearing a black bra with so many straps and studs she’d have been more comfortable in a strait-jacket.

  Liberty moved behind the desk to the huge mirror. When she pushed it to one side, she found a built-in safe. ‘Could you help me move this?’ she asked.

  The boy just glared at her.

  ‘I won’t be able to do it on my own,’ she told him. ‘I might look strong but I’m not bloody Popeye.’

  ‘Who?’ the boy asked.

  ‘Never mind. Just take that end, would you?’

  The boy stood still for a second, clearly weighing things up. Then he slipped his gun into the back of his waistband and took the left side of the mirror in both hands.

  ‘How old are you?’ Liberty asked, grasping her end of the mirror. ‘Fourteen? Fifteen?’

  The boy didn’t answer but took the weight of the mirror and together they lifted it up from its hinge.

  ‘I’ll take that as fourteen, then,’ said Liberty.

  They carried the mirror to the side of the office and propped it against the wall. Dax then removed his gun and waved it first at Liberty, then at the safe.

  ‘Trust me, Dax.’ Liberty approached the safe and checked the code pad. ‘This isn’t going to end well.’ Dax gave a snort and Liberty shot him a glance. ‘What? You think him out there has got this all under control?’

  ‘Seems like him and me are the ones got the gats.’

  ‘Gats? You’ve been watching too much telly.’ Liberty opened her eyes wide. ‘He’s going to get you killed.’

  Dax’s eyes blazed. ‘Just shut up and open it.’

  Liberty went back to the safe and pressed the date of her father’s birthday. There was a bleep and the door unlocked. ‘You need to use your brains here, Dax,’ she said, opening the door and peering inside. ‘You’ve got your whole life ahead of you and you do not want to make today the day you fucked it all up.’

  Dax kissed his teeth. ‘Whole life ahead of me? Don’t chat so much shit. You don’t know nothing.’

  ‘I know a lot more than you think.’

  Inside the safe there were piles of notes. Separate ones for tens, twenties, fifties. Over a hundred grand, Liberty estimated. ‘You’re going to need a bag,’ she said.

  ‘What?’

  ‘A bag.’ She held out a brick of purple twenty-pound notes. ‘You’re going to need one to carry this lot.’

  Dax looked around the office but there was no bag.

  ‘Try in there,’ said Liberty, pointing to the box of bralettes.

  Dax ripped open the box and pulled out a plastic bag containing an item of underwear. He tore open the seal and shook out the bralette. It hit the desk with a clatter of studs. ‘Fuck me,’ he said.

  ‘Yup,’ said Liberty. ‘Now hold it open.’

  Dax attempted to do so one-handed, but the plastic slid together. Sighing, he slipped the gun into the front of his waistband this time and used both hands. Liberty nodded and let the money fall in with a satisfyin
g plop. Then she returned to the safe. She repeated the movement three times, with three more piles of cash. Then, at the back of the safe, she saw what she was expecting to find. A small handgun.

  A ripple of fear passed through her, like a shiver. She had never held a gun before.

  But she knew she had to put an end to this. She took hold of another stack of notes with her left hand, then reached in with her right for the gun. She lifted it by the handle. It was cold and surprisingly heavy. She slipped her index finger around the trigger. She would need to be very quick.

  ‘How much more is there?’ asked Dax.

  ‘A few thousand, give or take,’ she replied.

  In one smooth motion she turned, dropped the money into the bag, so that Dax’s eye-line would inevitably follow, then raised her hand with the gun so that it pointed squarely at Dax’s chest. When he saw it, he gave a sound, almost a gurgle in his throat.

  ‘Keep hold of the bag,’ she said. ‘Arms out in front, like they are now and turn around.’

  ‘Fuck off,’ he said.

  ‘I mean it, Dax. Turn around now.’

  ‘Shut up,’ he said. ‘You ain’t gonna do nothing.’

  Liberty raised an eyebrow and clicked off the safety. ‘Don’t tell me what I will or won’t do, Dax. By the time I was your age, both my parents were dead and I’d bounced around more children’s homes than I can remember. I haven’t got this far by not knowing how to survive.’

  Something flitted across his face. First shock, then fear. He was just a kid, after all, with a gun shoved at the place where his heart would be. Liberty physically turned him and took possession of his gun, glad that he could no longer see her and notice how violently her hands were shaking.

  Daisy humped her bags off the number sixty-three as if she had a knife to her throat. She didn’t want to go to rehab. Well, she did. Sort of. Fact was, it had been a shock to the system to realize that all her stuff, the things that were worth keeping at any rate, filled three black bin bags. She knew she needed to change.

  But seventy days without any gear. There wasn’t anyone alive who would run towards that prospect with a spring in their step.

  She tried the door to the Cherry but it was locked. She rattled it hard, hoping Mel would hear, but no one came.