But then everything stopped, and my world swung into slow motion. I heard shouting. My legs were gripped hard and then released. There was noise everywhere, all around. Footsteps were running past. I started to cry uncontrollably. I couldn’t catch my breath. Sobbing like a frightened child.
My clothes were pulled tenderly back over me; a blanket wrapped round me. I heard low voices mumbling. There were people around me. Kind people.
“Let’s get you out of here.” It was Pitcher. I tried to speak.
“No, don’t say anything. You’ve had a bad fright.” His voice was gentle, but his face was black. He lifted me up and carried me outside, where I was blinded by the flashing lights of countless police cars. He stopped at an ambulance.
“I don’t need an ambulance,” I said feebly, still trembling.
“Do as you are told for once.”
I got inside and sat down. The doors banged shut.
Paramedics started to get busy, taking my blood pressure, and checking pulse and pupils.
“You’ve had a bad shock,” said one, as he injected something into my arm.
The vehicle began moving. I felt drowsy. My legs were lifted onto a bed, and I started to drown in sleep.
Chapter 40
4pm Wednesday, November 14,
Glasgow
The first thing I saw, when I opened my eyes, was Marsha. She was sitting at my bedside holding my hand. I didn’t know how long she or I had been there. I hoped not too long.
“Omar says he can’t believe the lengths you’ll go to, to get out of a court hearing,” she smiled, smoothing my hair back from my face.
I tried to smile and sit up, but a bolt of pain shot like lightning through me.
“Jeees…” I yelped.
“Hurts, huh?”
I grimaced. Every muscle seemed to ache. Then it all came flashing back; McSherry, his thugs, the cellar, the attack. I could see, as well as feel, my body was covered in scarlet bruises. There was a large bandage on my arm. That must have been where I hit the boiling copper.
“At least your face is OK,” Marsha squeezed my hand.
“What time is it?”
“It’s about 4 0’clock. They’ll bring you tea soon. You’ve had a good long sleep.”
“When did you arrive?”
“As soon as I could.”
“How long can you stay?”
“Until you’re ready to come home.”
“Today?”
“I doubt that, maybe tomorrow.”
“Marsha, how did they know… the police?”
“I don’t know, doll.”
“Did they catch...” I began.
“Shush...let’s not talk about last night. You need to rest, gather your strength. Would you like me to read to you for a bit? I found this in the hospital library.”
She held up a copy of Huckleberry Finn, which she knew to be one of my favourites. I smiled, feeling tears prick behind my eyes. She was right, I was exhausted. She started to read. The familiar words felt good.
‘He told the truth mainly. There was things, which he stretched but mainly he told the truth. That is nothing. I’ve never seen anybody but lied one time or another.’
Her voice lulled me into a dozing, happy nowhere-land, drifting on the edge of sleep. My dreams were interrupted by someone clearing his voice at the foot of the bed. I opened my eyes to find Pitcher. I tried to sit up.
“Are you up to talking?” he asked. I looked at Marsha.
“If she must,” she threw Pitcher a poisonous glance. “I’ll be waiting outside...don’t be long.”
“Did you get them?” I asked, when she had left.
He shook his head, picking up the charts at the foot of my bed and pretending to peruse them.
“That place’s a rabbit warren,” he said, flicking over bits of paper. “Stairs, exits, cellars, underground passages...good choice for a rendez-vous, that’s for sure. We did our best, but they had an escape exit planned.”
“Were they just trying to frighten me, or would they really…” I petered out.
“I don’t think you should think about that.”
“How did you know I was there?”
“You were being tailed. Thank god.”
“I knew you were following me.”
“Don’t be silly, on police budgets.”
“Who then?”
“I don’t know. We got an anonymous call. More to the point, what were you doing there? I told you to stay in your hotel room and lock the door?”
“A man called, said he had information.”
“And you didn’t think to call me?”
“No...Yes.....” I corrected myself. “I made a mistake.”
Pitcher shook his head, but his eyes were smiling. “You’re going to have to sharpen your act up, Lightwit, if you want to stay partners with me.”
I couldn’t help, but smile.
“It was too good a chance to miss.”
“So you charge off into the night,” he shook his head. “Do you realise how lucky you are?” His voice softened, but the look he threw me was deadly serious.
“OK, you’ve made your point.”
“Another thing, where did you get that pepper spray? They’re illegal?”
“I didn’t know...you won’t believe who gave it to me.”
“Try me.”
“Sister Robert.”
“That I believe.”
“Shouldn’t you be out catching these thugs instead of persecuting me?”
“I’ll try, if you help me.”
I pieced together what I could remember, but it had all happened so quickly. I began with the appearance of Frankie McSherry and the threats of what would happen to me if I didn’t back off from the Kelly story.
“You’re 100 per cent sure it was Frankie McSherry.”
“It was the man you pointed out as McSherry talking to Tom Kelly in the club.”
“Can you describe anyone else?”
“I’m sure two of them were the fighters in the cage. One had a big scar and another that gold earring. You pick them up. I’ll pick them out of a line-up.”
“I wouldn’t hold your breath. They’ll have vanished by now and McSherry will have a dozen witnesses putting him a 100 miles away.”
“What about my statement? And the link with the Kellys?”
“Not worth much. A court would throw it out. A bust-up journo with a grudge against the Kelly family, who is already being hauled into court for lying. Up here too, on Jack’s home patch.”
I didn’t know whether to cry or be sick. His face was impenetrable, as I recounted the rest of the story. When I finished, he changed the subject.
“Want some good news?”
I nodded.
“There’s been a development on the missing forensics,” he said. “We’ve found the scientist who carried out the report. He’s in South Africa working on some forensic development programme with Cape Town university.”
“You’ve spoken to him?”
“I will do. Right now he’s in the middle of a desert somewhere blowing up rocks in a quarry.”
“No phones.”
“Quite.”
“This is a mess.”
“And she’s a mess and needs some rest,” Marsha said, coming back into the room.
“OK …OK. You’re one mean lady,” Pitcher said to Marsha as he left the ward.
“D’you know doll?” she said, after he had disappeared. “I reckon that geezer’s a bit of a diamond.”
This was more than I could stomach. I closed my eyes, and attempted to drift back into my drug-induced dreamworld. But the visitors kept coming. I nearly fell out of bed when, after tea, Carlton Crabb turned up. Marsha’s eyes whirled like globes on a collision course, when his head popped round the door.
“I heard the news,” he said, standing diffidently at the bottom of the bed. “I did worry. Perhaps, if I’d never given you the d…d…d…” he paused, and tried again. “the d….d…d
….. “ he stopped and sighed unable to get the word out.
“The diary…Mr Crabb?” I supplied for him.
He nodded repetitively. “I was only following Mr Strachan’s instructions. I had no idea....and now...here you are.”
“I’m fine, Mr Crabb, honestly.” I tried to smile, but it hurt too much. “It’s very kind of you to come.”
He didn’t stay long, and Marsha burst into a fit of uncontrollable giggles, as soon as he left the room.
“The sooner we get home the better, I ain’t never met such a bunch a’ freaks.”
My next visitor crashed through the door just before visiting finished at 7.45pm, carrying a huge bouquet of flowers.
“Sorry, I tried to get here earlier… my meeting ….” Sandy began, “Over-ran,” I finished for him. “I don’t think you two have met.”
I introduced them. Marsha eyed him suspiciously. Unlike Pitcher, here was a foreigner. But she must have seen something she liked, because she got up and took the flowers from him.
“I’ll get a vase for this lot. Very pretty they are too,” she said, heading for the door.
Sandy sat down and I watched as he ran an eye over my bruises and bandages. He looked tired.
“How are you feeling? I’ve been so worried,” he began.
“I’ll mend,” I tried, unsuccessfully, to smile.
“You must have been terrified,” he reached for my hand. I felt tears welling up in my eyes. I couldn’t speak; just nodded.
“I don’t know what to say,” a look of pain flashed across his eyes.
“There’s nothing to say. It’s over now.”
“I’m so sorry this had to happen.”
He stood and kissed me, first on each eyelid and then lovingly on the lips. I groaned inwardly, drowning in his warmth.
“It could be worse,” I murmured, as our lips parted.
“Thank God for that private detective,” he said. “You were right about being followed.”
“Thank God for my pepper spray.”
“Yes, that too. Where on earth did you get it, by the way? I thought those things were illegal.”
“You wouldn’t believe me.” When I told him he laughed.
“But you’re right. I owe that private detective quiet a lot. My guardian angel. Do you still have her number? I don’t even know who she’s working for. Pitcher says it’s not them.”
“It was never the police.”
“Then who? Do you know?”
“Not for sure, but I always thought it could be Kane. The bank has more to lose than anyone.”
“Kane?” I couldn’t believe it. “They hate me.”
“Julia, bank’s don’t have emotions.”
He stayed a while longer, and we chatted about inconsequential matters, with me drifting in and out of sleep. Finally, I felt him pressing my hand, and heard him say, “I have to go now.”
“When will I see you again?” I asked.
“I’m not sure. Do you know when you’re going home?”
“Marsha says maybe tomorrow. Any plans to come South?”
“Yes...in fact...” he hesitated, as though there were something difficult he wanted to say.
“Julia... the children...”
“Yes,” I said, slowly, not sure I wanted to hear what he had to say next.
“I’ve asked my mother to take them away for a bit. Just a little holiday. My sister lives in France. She retired early, her and her husband. They’ve no family of their own. It’s a tiny little hamlet outside Poitier. Remote, few non-locals. I’ll join them for Christmas.”
I started to feel sick.
“Have you been threatened, Sandy?”
“So we will be in London in a few days before they catch the train. Would you like to meet the children?”
“Have you been threatened, Sandy?” I repeated.
He stroked my hair “I can look after myself.”
“Have the children been threatened?”
He silenced me with another kiss.
“Soon, this is will be over,” he whispered into my ear. My heart missed a beat.
Chapter 41
8.45pm Wednesday, November 14,
Glasgow
“Didn’t think much of him,” was Marsha’s, verdict when she returned. “Too clever by half, if you ask me,” she added, with a twinkle in her eye.
“No one did,” I said, throwing a pillow in her direction.
“My...my... you must be feeling better,” she laughed.
The hospital released me the next day. We flew to City airport and took a taxi home. Marsha left me for a meeting she had arranged the previous week with a group of Somali asylum seekers, who were looking for cash to set up an import/export business.
I was glad to be alone in the safety of my own home. I was no longer spooked by the thought of being watched. My shadow turned out to be my saviour. A woman police officer called from the Met wanting to come and see me. I put her off. She stressed her concern for my welfare. Did I feel I needed any medical or psychological support? She was being kind, but the last thing I needed was to be picked over like a wounded bird.
Instead, I ran a bath. I felt dirty, dirty like I would never be clean. I poured relaxing lavender oil into the water and washed my aching body, painstakingly, gently rubbing away tension and pain. Then I lay back in the suds and closed my eyes. I forced myself to stay like that, soaking my way back to normality. My racing heart began to slow.
I tried not to think about what had happened, but there was one thought I could not chase away. Sandy thought Kane had hired the private detective to follow me, but I struggled to believe that.
The other firms of advisers seemed more likely. I could see their insurers hiring investigators. Insurers used private eyes all the time to check out claims. Cameron, for example, could face a big litigation and compensation bill, if complicity was ever traced to its door. Its insurers would want to keep a close eye on any developments.
My thoughts were disturbed by the door bell. I ignored it at first, but it rang twice more, each time more insistently. Not Pitcher, not now, I thought, getting out of the bath. Throwing on a dressing gown, I went to the door.
It was Omar.
“Marsha says I’m not to stay long, I’m not to talk about what happened and I’m not to...” he mused for a moment. “Oh I can’t remember,” he finished, kissing me on the cheek.
“And this is for you,” he handed me a bottle of champagne. “A couple of glasses would nice.”
“Celebrating?” I said puzzled, not able to see anything at all worth celebrating.
“I hope so,” he sat on the settee, picked up the TV controller and began scanning the channels, while I fetched two glasses from the kitchen.
“To victory,” he said, popping the cork on my return, and catching the bubbles in the glasses
“Yes, I’ll always drink to victory, but that’s not exactly how it feels to me right...” he held up his hand to cut me short.
“To victory and common sense.”
I waited for him to explain.
“Kane has dropped the libel action.”
“You’re joking,” I couldn’t believe it.
“OK, it’s a joke.”
“Omar don’t play with me.”
“OK, it’s not a joke.”
“Omar which is it?” I shrieked excitedly.
He shrugged. “I always told you there was no case to answer and it was just a matter of bully-boy tactics.”
“Which cost me my job.”
“True, but it was a crummy job.” He grimaced apologetically knowing that wasn’t quite the case.
“Why?”
“Maybe he’s had his fun. He’s made his point and pushed it as far as he wants to. He’s had you wriggling on a hook, and now he’s bored with the game.”
“Bastard.”
“True. But please don’t print that in the newspaper just yet. Let’s keep you out of court for a few weeks. And rejoice,” he topped up m
y glass.
Omar was as good as his word. He stayed an hour and we talked only of happy things. I hit the sack shortly after he left. Tomorrow, I wanted to be back in the office early. The truce with KNS meant I could finally contact David Black. He had been the one constant figure in this whole murky pensions business, who had neither disappeared, nor threatened me.
Maybe now we could begin working together. As I drifted off to sleep, I thought a lot about Kane. None of it made any sense. Why launch the case in the first place, and spend a fortune in legal fees, only to withdraw it? And why drop it now?
Chapter 42
7.30am Friday, November 16,
Southwark
My first thought when I woke the next morning was to call David Black. I knew exactly where I had left his card. It was in the pocket of my tuxedo.
I headed into the office early, and called him around 10am. I cursed when I heard he was away for a long weekend. Did I want to try back on Monday?
“Has he got his mobile with him?” I asked.
“I’m not sure. But there’s no reception where he’s gone, anyway.”
I left my name and number, with a message to get back to me.
Damn. I hadn’t long hung up, when the telephone rang. It was Sandy.
“How are you Julia? Did you get home OK?” he asked.
“Yes, and I had some wonderful news waiting for me. Victor Kane has dropped the libel writ.”
“That’ll help the bruises heal...” he said, sounding genuinely pleased. “And a weight off your mind.”
“An enormous weight off my mind,” I replied.
“We must celebrate. I’m coming to London tomorrow, with mother and the kids. Would you like to meet up? It’s Sarah’s birthday. We can have a double celebration.”
“All of us?” I asked, tentatively.
“Me and the kids. Mum will probably go off shopping on her own.”
In for a penny, in for a pound, I thought.
“OK, I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Great. There’s something else.”
“Uh..huh.”
“I’m filing my formal valuation of the Kelly Brewery Pension fund this afternoon with the regulator.”
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