by Mel Sherratt
Copyright
Published by Avon an imprint of
HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd
1 London Bridge Street,
London, SE1 9GF
www.harpercollins.co.uk
First published in Great Britain by HarperCollins Publishers 2018
Copyright © Mel Sherratt 2018
Cover photograph: Stoke Canal Scene © Alan Tunnicliffe/Shutterstock
Cover photograph: Running Woman © Henry Steadman
Cover design © Henry Steadman
Mel Sherratt asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.
A catalogue copy of this book is available from the British Library.
This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.
Source ISBN: 9780008271046
Ebook Edition © October 2018 ISBN: 9780008271053
Version: 2018-09-21
Praise for Mel Sherratt:
‘An absolute masterpiece. Twisty, turny and full of surprises!’
Angela Marsons
‘Mel Sherratt’s books are as smart and edgy as her heroines’
Cara Hunter
‘Mel Sherratt is the new queen of gritty police procedurals’
C.L. Taylor
‘Twists and turns and delivers a satisfying shot of tension’
Rachel Abbott
‘Heart-stoppingly tense. I love Mel Sherratt’s writing’
Angela Clarke
‘Gripped me from the first page and didn’t let go until the heart-stopping conclusion!’
Robert Bryndza
‘A writer to watch out for’
Mandasue Heller
‘Uncompromising, powerful and very real – an important new voice’
David Mark
‘Mel’s vivid imagination really brings her characters to life’
Kerry Wilkinson
‘Mel Sherratt is a unique voice in detective fiction’
Mail on Sunday
Dedication
To Chris and Alison,
for always believing in me.
Contents
Cover
Title Page
Copyright
Praise for Mel Sherratt
Dedication
March 2017
Chapter One: August 2018
Chapter Two: September 2018
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty-One
Chapter Forty-Two
Chapter Forty-Three
Chapter Forty-Four
Chapter Forty-Five
Chapter Forty-Six
Chapter Forty-Seven
Chapter Forty-Eight
Chapter Forty-Nine
Chapter Fifty
Chapter Fifty-One
Chapter Fifty-Two
Chapter Fifty-Three
Chapter Fifty-Four
Chapter Fifty-Five
Chapter Fifty-Six
Chapter Fifty-Seven
Chapter Fifty-Eight
Chapter Fifty-Nine
Chapter Sixty
Chapter Sixty-One
Chapter Sixty-Two
Chapter Sixty-Three
Chapter Sixty-Four
Chapter Sixty-Five
Chapter Sixty-Six
Chapter Sixty-Seven
Chapter Sixty-Eight
Chapter Sixty-Nine
Chapter Seventy
Chapter Seventy-One
Chapter Seventy-Two
Chapter Seventy-Three
Chapter Seventy-Four
Chapter Seventy-Five
Chapter Seventy-Six
Chapter Seventy-Seven
Chapter Seventy-Eight
Chapter Seventy-Nine
Chapter Eighty
Acknowledgments
Author Note
Read More from TICK TOCK
About the Author
About the Publisher
March 2017
George Steele came out of The Potter’s, leaving the noise of the rowdy party still going on behind him. Outside, it was fresh, the hint of warmer weather around the corner.
It was nearing midnight as he began to walk home. He had planned on only having one more for the road, but that was two hours ago, and now he was struggling to stand up.
He wondered if Kathleen had left him anything to eat. He could murder something hot inside him. If she hadn’t, he would wake her. She could cook him something. He salivated at the thought of a bacon butty.
It was a short walk down a country lane and along a small path. Sober, it took him half as long as it did when he was legless. He snorted to himself as he stumbled to his right. It would take him all night, zigzagging the road as he was.
His phone beeped and he pulled it out of his pocket. He brought it near to his face, trying to see who was calling him, but he couldn’t read the screen, so he let it ring out. At this time of night, it would only be someone looking to cause trouble. He was sick and tired of people after a piece of him. Always wanting to fight with him, anger him, disrespect him. He couldn’t even rely on his useless sons to sort anything out. They just weren’t up to his standard when it came to what he expected of his family. And as for his silly daughter … He didn’t have the words for how pathetic she was.
He was at the path now, minutes from home. The house stood on four acres of land, the room he’d had so much fun with hidden away at the bottom of the garden. It had been passed down to him by his parents, the only thing they’d given him he’d ever been glad of. How he had hated his father and the time spent with him there, at the hands of a monster. Still, at least it meant he’d known how to get the best out of his own family too.
George didn’t hear a sound as someone crept up behind him. A crack to the head made him stumble forward. Another and he dropped to his knees. He turned around and was greeted with a whack in the face. Unable to see who it was in the dark, he tried to crawl away o
n all fours, but a kick to the stomach had him coughing. He held up a hand – each hit was followed by a pause.
‘Wait!’ he cried, catching his breath, sitting up on his haunches. ‘Whoever has sent you to do this, I’ll double your money.’ He winced in agony as pain pulsed through his body. ‘Because when I find out, be prepared to get a lot worse than you’re giving me now.’
A hit to the side of his face and colours exploded inside his head. He dropped to the floor again.
It took a few more blows before he realised his attacker wasn’t going to stop.
ONE
August 2018
Grace Allendale climbed the restaurant stairs to the first floor and slipped back to her seat at the table.
‘We’ve just placed our order,’ DC Sam Markham said, beaming at her. ‘Won’t be long now.’
Grace smiled back. It was Friday evening and everyone in Spice World was in high spirits. The clientele were letting off steam, catching up with friends and family. Grace would rather have ordered a takeaway and eaten alone at home, but needs must.
The restaurant was situated in the lower part of Hanley, around the corner from Bethesda Police Station, Grace’s new headquarters. From the outside the Victorian building looked weather-worn and, as they’d walked inside the curry house, she’d wondered what she was letting herself in for.
But it had been a pleasant surprise to find a warm and modern atmosphere. There were tables full of diners spread out over the ground floor, and a grand staircase leading upstairs to many more. The music playing in the background was modern rock, not too intrusive, yet loud enough to be heard over the friendly banter of people out enjoying themselves.
This was the first time Grace had met her work colleagues since she’d got her new job as detective sergeant, a promotion from her former role in Salford. Grace had lived there for the past twenty-three years. She’d joined the police force after leaving university and had worked as a police constable before transferring to Major Crimes as a detective. She’d been quite settled in that role for several years, but when things took a tumble in her private life, she’d decided that she needed a new goal to aim for.
Having taken her detective sergeant’s exam last year, when a post had come up in her birthplace of Stoke-on-Trent, she decided to put in for it. She needed a change, somewhere she could start afresh, even though she wasn’t quite sure it was a good decision to come back to the town from which she and her mum had fled all those years ago. But circumstances were different now. The man who had caused them so much pain was no longer around.
After she’d been offered the job, Grace had got an invite to join the team for a night out before her start date on Monday. There was only one officer who hadn’t been able to make it, someone called Alex Challinor, who had a previous engagement he couldn’t get out of, although no one had enlightened her as to what it was.
Around her, her new colleagues were sharing some in-joke. Then suddenly Nick Carter, their DI, stopped laughing and turned to her.
‘Sorry, we’re ignoring you. You say you lived in Stoke when you were younger, Grace?’ he asked.
All eyes fell on her. ‘Yes, until I was twelve,’ she replied. ‘Then my parents divorced and I moved to Salford with my mum.’
‘So, you don’t have many memories?’ DC Perry Wright asked.
‘I have a few,’ Grace nodded. She could remember far more than she would ever share with them. The nights she’d heard her mum screaming as her father laid into her. The times there was no money for food because he’d spent it all in the pub. The days when he would go missing and be brought home by the police after being locked up in a cell. The weeks he spent with other women before fighting his way back into their house again. The double life he led that she knew nothing of until she was old enough to understand … ‘But I expect so much has changed since then, anyway,’ she added.
‘Not much to write home about,’ Sam giggled. ‘But we still love it. And you’ll soon know the place, and its people. Even the undesirables.’
Nick raised his glass in the air. ‘Welcome to the Major Crimes Team.’
Everyone joined Nick in a toast. Only Perry, sitting opposite her, didn’t lift his eyes to hers as well. He hadn’t joined in the conversation much either, she’d noticed.
The door to the restaurant opened and several men came in at once. From her first-floor position, Grace looked down at the newcomers as their laughter filled the room, booming, loud and boisterous. She counted four of them, all casually dressed in shirts and jeans; lean, with biceps and quads looking fit to burst through their clothes. A waiter rushed across to them and they were quickly seated, despite the busyness of the room.
As she turned back to her group, Grace noticed the atmosphere at their table had changed.
‘Seriously?’ Perry sighed. ‘Can’t we have one night out without it being a busman’s holiday?’
‘They might not see us up here,’ Nick said.
‘What’s wrong?’ Grace asked, realising she had a bird’s-eye view from her seat at the end of the table. Nick had his back to the group.
‘Meet part of the Steele family and some of their cronies.’ Sam nodded her head in the direction of the men. ‘They like to think they’re untouchable.’
‘They own Steele’s Gym in Baddeley Green,’ Nick informed her. ‘It’s got a boxing club attached to it as well.’
‘So, it’s a legit establishment?’ Grace questioned, trying to keep her voice calm and professional.
‘Let’s say it isn’t just a place where you can go for a workout,’ Nick explained. ‘The Steeles are one of our local crime families. Their father, George, was murdered last year; his killer’s still at large.’
Grace dropped her eyes momentarily, feeling her cheeks burn at the mention of that name, but none of the others seemed to notice. She’d read that George Steele had last been seen leaving his local pub just before midnight on March fifteenth the previous year. His family had reported him missing the next day, and he’d been found a few hours later on a shortcut through to his home. He’d been beaten to death. A thorough investigation had given the police no leads. Now it had been assigned to Alex Challinor, her absent colleague, to work on if anything new came to light.
‘There are two sons and a daughter.’ Nick looked at Grace. ‘Eddie is the one on the right. He’s the eldest brother.’
Grace looked down through the glass balustrade to see a man of about thirty-seven reading a menu before slapping it on the table and glancing around the room. She dropped her eyes for a moment.
‘The one sitting opposite him is Leon. He’s a couple of years younger.’
Grace focused on Eddie’s brother, an almost identical version of him. If she hadn’t known better, she might have thought they were twins. Both had dark brown hair and were well groomed – attractive in their own rough-around-the-edges way.
‘There’s a sister, too. Jade. She runs a nail bar in the gym with their mother, Kathleen,’ Perry added.
‘Testosterone aplenty.’ Sam let out a long sigh. ‘Maybe they’ll be fine once they get some food.’
Nick sat up straight as three waiters walked towards their table. ‘Speaking of which, here comes our order.’
Grace placed her napkin on her lap. As she dished rice on to her plate, she heard a squeal and looked downstairs. Leon Steele had seized a waitress who was walking past, pulling her onto his knee.
‘Hey,’ the woman protested, trying to get back to her feet, but he held on to her. She squirmed as he whispered something in her ear. As the group burst into loud jeers again, all heads in the restaurant turned towards them. Grace groaned inwardly. She was hoping to have more time to get to know her work colleagues before this happened.
Perry removed his napkin from his lap and made to stand up. But Nick held him back.
‘Let’s just see if it calms down,’ Nick said as restaurant staff rushed over. ‘It’s going to get a lot more troublesome and ruin many people’s nights if we
wade in.’
Grace watched as Leon released the woman and held up his arms in surrender. ‘Only having a bit of fun,’ he shouted to the room as the waitress scuttled off.
‘I hate how they think they own the place.’ Perry scowled as he looked down at his food. ‘Meanwhile we sit back and let it happen.’
‘This is a night out, not a team briefing,’ Nick chided. ‘And for now they haven’t seen us, so let’s just leave it like that.’
Eddie Steele’s gaze rose up and Grace dropped her eyes immediately. When she looked again seconds later, he was staring her way. Their eyes locked for a moment, as if they were the only two people in the room, before Grace lowered hers once more.
She couldn’t hold her tongue. It wasn’t what she’d intended but she might as well come clean now. Really, was there any other way than to tell her work colleagues the truth?
Grace turned to the group and put her glass down heavily on the table, enough to get everyone’s attention but not to cause too much of a fuss so that everyone else looked their way.
‘You wanted to know all about me?’ She looked at each one of them in turn, knowing that, once she’d said the next few words, everything was going to become a whole lot harder.
‘They already know!’ Nick intervened.
Grace tried to stop a frown forming on her face.
‘I told them about Matt.’ Nick shook his head. ‘I’m sorry; I thought it would make things easier for you. I know how much you need a fresh start.’
‘Yeah, we’re all here for you,’ Sam said. ‘It must be really hard to deal with.’
Grace gave a faint smile. Nick stared at her. She could almost sense his thoughts, telling her to stay silent.
She didn’t want him to lie for her. She wanted to be honest upfront. But it was clear from the look in Nick’s eye that she needed to keep quiet.
She couldn’t tell anyone that Eddie and Leon Steele were her half-brothers. And George Steele, criminal, racketeer and murder victim, had been her father.
TWO
September 2018
TUESDAY – DAY 1
Josh Parker pushed up the weight with a long and loud groan. His shift had finished half an hour ago, the same time Steele’s Gym had closed, but he liked to stay behind to do his own workout.