For the Sake of the Children: The first Chloe Webster thriller (Chloe Webster Thrillers Book 1)

by Alex Highcliffe

  He walked straight in through the front door and as it closed behind him he drew the handgun. Entering the main hall, he quickly surveyed the area and noted two pretty rough looking characters playing snooker down the far end. Mickey was behind the bar chatting to a woman he’d never seen before. Other than that the place was empty.

  ‘Mickey, is Drabble in?’ he called, looking back down the hall towards the two snooker players.

  ‘Oh, Mr T, what the fuck are you doing here?’

  ‘Mickey, is he in?’ The Timer started towards the office behind the bar.

  ‘No he isn’t.’ Mickey noticed the gun for the first time. The woman at the bar had also seen it, though it didn’t seem to bother her.

  ‘Who’s this handsome gentleman then Mickey? Aren’t you going to introduce us?’ Something in her voice made the Timer think of Scotland and the fine holidays he’d enjoyed there with his family.

  ‘No, he isn’t,’ said the Timer bluntly, and waved Mickey through into the office. Once they were both inside he shut the door and turned to Mickey. ‘Where’s Drabble? And Jez? Are they together?’

  ‘Mr T, what are you planning?’

  ‘Mickey, I wanna leave you out of this. We’ve always been friends. Just tell me where they are and I’ll go.’

  ‘Are you sure you’ve thought this through? If you kill Drabble you’ll have to run. And I mean a long way.’ Mickey looked genuinely concerned for his old friend.

  ‘I know Mickey. I’ve got it sorted, don’t worry. But I don’t intend to leave many people around to follow me.’ He saw the fear in Mickey’s eyes. ‘I don’t mean you Mickey. I’m not gonna hurt you. Those two out there, on the table at the end, are they Drabble’s men?’

  ‘They are, yeah. Two of his most trusted. You wouldn’t want them after you. The rest would probably give up if Drabble was hit, go and join the Kirklands or something. But those two would come after you.’

  ‘I don’t think I’ve seen them before.’

  ‘No, they don’t usually come round here. I think they messed up on a recent job and Drabble wanted to see them to sort a few things out. They’re waiting for him now, but he won’t be back for a while yet.’

  The Timer was interested. ‘What did they do?’

  ‘I’m not sure to be honest, but I heard Jez saying something about a girl being too old and why didn’t they get someone younger or something. No idea what that was about; they don’t tell me much these days.’

  So they’re the child snatchers are they?

  ‘I’ve got a pretty good idea. And what about you Mickey, what will you do if Drabble isn’t around anymore?’ He wanted to know that his friend had plans.

  ‘I’ll be okay. I’ll take the cash from the safe and run. There’s usually a good few grand in there. Try to start new somewhere else. Something clean this time.’

  ‘Good lad. Right, I just need to sort out a couple of problems in the hall. You wait here Mickey.’

  ‘Be careful Mr T, they’re dangerous. Don’t let your guard down.’

  85

  The Timer made his way back out into the bar. The woman was still sitting on a stool sipping from something clear and alcoholic. She looked to be in her thirties but the amount of makeup she had plastered on her face made it hard to be sure. The Timer stood next to her; too close, in an attempt to make her feel uncomfortable, but it didn’t seem to have the desired effect.

  ‘Now listen, you look like you could be trouble to me. I’m sure we could have a good time on another day, in another life maybe. But not now and not here. You need to leave this place and don’t come back. Whatever you hear or read about, don’t say anything to anyone. Not ever. Do you understand me?’

  The woman drained her glass, winked at him and then left the club. The Timer had to admit that he was intrigued, but he had more important things to take care of.

  He headed through the empty snooker hall, walking down the centre aisle with rows of tables standing in the shadows on each side of him. The men on the end table soon realised he was heading their way and stopped their game. One perched on the corner of the table, and the other rested on his cue, drinking slowly from a pint of beer. As he approached, the Timer spread his arms and smiled.

  ‘Hello gentlemen, I’m a colleague of Mr Drabble’s. I understand you do some work for him from time to time?’

  They both stared back in silence. Caution and secrecy were attributes that kept you alive in this job.

  ‘I understand your reluctance to talk. Don’t worry, we’re on the same side. I collected a package from a lorry out of Hull the other day. I believe you guys loaded it in the first place?’

  The men looked down to where Mickey was now standing and he gave them a nod.

  ‘What of it?’ grunted the man leaning on his cue.

  ‘I was just interested to know the story, that’s all. Might have some work for you and I want to know how you operate.’

  ‘It was Amsterdam. Took her from her father in a park. It was easy enough. He didn’t have a clue what was happening until it was too late.’

  ‘Impressive work, gentlemen. So how are you fixed to do a little job for me?’

  ‘Do you pay well?’ asked the man sat on the edge of the table. He was the smaller of the two, seemingly smarter in appearance and intellect, and presumably the negotiator.

  The Timer smiled. ‘Not bad. I’ll only need you for a couple of hours. Shall we say a grand each?’

  The man tried to remain cool despite the huge offer, but the Timer knew he had him. The things we do for money.

  ‘That’ll do,’ he said, as his partner rolled his cue onto the table to signify the end of the game. ‘But what about Drabble? He wants to talk to us when he gets back.’

  ‘Oh I’m sure Mickey can clear that for you. Anyway, we won’t be long. You’ll probably be back here before him.’

  The men exchanged a glance. ‘All right, you’ve got yourself a deal.’

  ‘Great, shall we get going? After you gentlemen.’

  The two men strolled past him and as they did so the Timer could see they were both built like the proverbial brick shit-house. He let them walk a few paces down the aisle which allowed him to pull out his gun and take aim. He didn’t try to be clever, and simply put them both down with a shot each to the middle of the back. There was no sophisticated silencer on the gun and the noise reverberated around the empty hall. One of the men fell silently; the other cried out in pain but didn’t seem to be able to move once he was on the floor. The Timer then made sure with two more shots, one to each man’s head. Messy, but professional. He thought of Francesca and those eyes that he would never forget.

  You don’t mess with kids.

  Mickey came pacing towards him down the hall, a look of excitement on his face.

  ‘So where are they then, Mickey? Let’s get this thing finished.’ The Timer’s eyes glowed in the dim light.

  Mickey grinned. ‘I’ll take you there.’

  86

  Chloe couldn’t stop the thoughts running through her head. Would she ever get to speak to her father again? Were they really going to hang her? How would that feel? How much would it hurt? The conflict between her feelings of panic and the need to stand still was difficult to control.

  A large man came through the door, immaculately dressed in a black suit and highly polished shoes. In contrast to the dusty greyness of the room he seemed out of place. Jez followed in behind him and leaned against the window sill.

  ‘So this is our girl is it? Pretty little thing isn’t she?’

  ‘Sure is Mr Drabble. Unfortunately she’s also a fucking interfering little bitch.’ Jez looked across at Drabble who ignored him and held his gaze on Chloe.

  ‘It doesn’t seem right, somehow. A beautiful, young, intelligent girl with the rest of her life ahead of her, standing on a chair in a place like this with a rope round her neck.’ Drabble showed no emotion as he spoke, and Jez looked puzzled as he listened to the words. ‘It’s a pity you d
idn’t just do what we asked you to do.’

  ‘I did.’ The words were barely audible as Chloe choked back her tears and fought against the grip of the rope. ‘I did everything you asked.’

  Drabble walked over to her father and lifted the man’s chin in his hand. His eyes were closed and he made no sound, no attempt to move; there was no sign of consciousness.

  ‘Is he alive?’ Drabble asked.

  ‘I think so. He was anyway,’ replied Jez.

  ‘He needs help,’ begged Chloe. ‘Please call an ambulance or something.’

  Drabble laughed out loud. He let go of the man’s chin and it dropped back down to his chest.

  ‘Right, Miss Webster. I’m going to ask you a question and you’re going to tell me the truth. I’ll know if you’re lying and if you are, your old daddy here gets a bullet.

  Jez pulled a gun and strolled over to where the injured man sat. He pointed it at the middle of his chest and looked up at Chloe.

  ‘Okay, anything. Ask me anything, just don’t shoot him.’

  Drabble stared into her eyes. ‘What have you told the police?’

  ‘The police?’ Chloe immediately knew this would end badly. ‘Nothing. I mean, I haven’t spoken to the police. Why would I?’

  ‘Oh come on, don’t play the poor little innocent girl with me. You know what’s been going on here. Why else did you run with the child? You’ve got it all worked out and you’ve had plenty of time to call for help.’

  Chloe knew she had to try to convince him. She thought quickly and as clearly as she could. ‘It was the money.’

  ‘The money?’

  ‘Yes, the money that you paid into my bank account, the ten thousand pounds. I knew that if I called the police they would think I was involved. I assume that was part of your plan. When things started to get out of control I admit that I did want to call the police, but I never actually managed to. Honestly.’

  Drabble continued to stare at her as if he was assessing the reliability of every word she said.

  ‘Well, you’re far more convincing than the last idiot we had standing up there. I don’t know, what do you think Jez?’

  Jez thought back to the house and how he had seen the old neighbour frantically trying to speak to someone on the phone before he blew her brains out. He knew she was calling the police then. He also knew she’d failed. And he was pretty sure Chloe hadn’t had a chance to call them since then. He’d seen Chloe’s mobile phone on the table in her cottage when they came through it. Of course, he wasn’t about to tell Drabble any of this.

  ‘I think she’s lying,’ he smirked. ‘Of course she’s called the fucking cops. She’s a lawyer, what else would she do?’

  ‘No! I haven’t. Honestly Mr Drabble, I haven’t, and I won’t.’

  He was impressed that she’d remembered his name, although in the long run that wouldn’t go in her favour of course. He admitted to himself that he was torn. He liked this girl; she had a real fighting spirit. But she was a pain in the arse and he just couldn’t let her go.

  The sound of footsteps drifted into the room from the corridor outside.

  ‘Who the fuck is that?’ shouted Drabble, as Jez turned and pointed the gun at the doorway.

  Chloe’s heart kept beating far too quickly.

  Please help us, whoever you are.

  87

  Ben came through the doorway and walked over to Jez, who greeted him with a fist-bump.

  It took Chloe several moments to appreciate what had just happened. Here was Ben, the man she had been dating; the man in whom she had confided. And he was interacting with these thugs who had roped her up as if she was at the gallows, and who had probably killed her father.

  Ben looked up at her. ‘Hello sweetheart. Is everything okay?’

  ‘Ben, what’s going on? What are you doing here? Do you know these people?’ Her mind was working overtime as she tried to make sense of what was happening.

  ‘Oh yeah,’ said Ben matter-of-factly. ‘This is my good friend Jez, and this man here is Mr Drabble. He’s not one to get on the wrong side of, but I guess you know that already, huh?’

  What was left of her world had just collapsed.

  ‘You bastard,’ she said simply, not even raising her voice. ‘I trusted you.’

  ‘Oops, watch out guys, a woman scorned and all that.’

  ‘All right, all right, enough of this.’ Drabble sounded irritated by the interruption. ‘Shut the fuck up Ben. This is all your fault anyway. I wanted someone I could rely on this time. But all you brought me was another shit-load of trouble.’

  Ben looked over at Drabble and the cocky expression drained from his face.

  ‘I know, but you wanted a girl and you gave me no time. What else could I do? She was new to the firm and the obvious target. I had to take a bit of a punt.’

  Drabble breathed out heavily, still clearly irritated by Ben’s presence.

  ‘A bit of a punt? There must be other girls in that bloody firm that you could have chosen. One’s with a bit less fight in them. Jesus, why pick one you knew nothing about?’

  Ben took a step back towards the door. He was starting to feel uneasy about the level of blame coming his way.

  ‘I thought I had her, you know? I thought I’d persuaded her to do as she was told.’

  ‘Just fuck off Ben. Go on, get out of here before I do something I’ll regret.’

  Ben didn’t need to be asked twice. He hurried out of the room and Jez closed the door. Drabble turned his attention back to Chloe.

  ‘So you’re telling me you haven’t spoken to the police, but Jez here doesn’t believe you, and I’m not sure what to think. That leaves us in a very difficult position doesn’t it?’

  Chloe knew she was fighting for her life, and her father’s life.

  ‘Mr Drabble, please, I’m telling you the truth. And if you let me out of here I promise I’ll never say anything to anyone. Honestly.’

  ‘There’s part of me that believes you Miss Webster. But unfortunately they all say that. And I’m a little bit too long in the tooth to fall for it. Or even to run the risk.’

  She didn’t know what else to say. There must be some way to change his mind.

  ‘Mr Drabble, do you have children of your own?’

  ‘Ah, a very good try Miss Webster, but we’re not going down that track I’m afraid. Listen, I’m very sorry, but I have to go. Please forgive me. I wish things could be different.’ He turned to Jez. ‘You know what to do.’

  Drabble left the room and Jez grinned up at Chloe. To his obvious surprise Ben strolled back into the room and stood next to him, the cocky look back on his face.

  ‘I thought you’d run away,’ scoffed Jez.

  ‘Me? No. I was just getting out of Drabble’s way until he left. I’d hate to miss the show.’

  Chloe’s blood ran cold.

  88

  ‘It’s just down here on the right. There it is, that place with the blue roof. Some kind of old warehouse I think. Drabble uses places like this all the time for his dirty work.’ Mickey slapped the wooden truncheon he was holding into the palm of his hand repeatedly. It was a sign of nerves, or excitement, or both. He’d rather have a gun with him, but the cupboard at the club was empty, and he had a pretty good idea who had them. ‘They’ll be armed you know.’

  The Timer nodded. ‘I know Mickey. Don’t worry, I’m ready for anything this time. So what’s he doing down here today then?’ The Timer showed no signs of nerves at all, but inside his heart was beating like a drum. This was the final curtain, and then it would be his time to take a bow and leave it all behind. ‘So you reckon Jez’ll be with him?’

  ‘Yeah I think so. I haven’t seen him today, but I don’t know where else he’d be.’

  The Timer pulled the car up short of where Mickey had been pointing. ‘Come on then, let’s get going.’

  They climbed out and approached the building with care, keeping low against a small concrete wall which ran up the side of the p
roperty.

  ‘You go round the back Mickey and try to find a way in. I’ll give you a minute or two and then I’ll go in the front. See you inside. And be careful.’

  ‘Okay. Good luck mate.’ Mickey slapped the Timer on the back and made his way down the side of the building. A passageway took him between the warehouse and the neighbouring property, and ended at a dilapidated wooden gate. He pushed it open without too much effort and rounded the corner to the rear side of the warehouse.

  It was then that he saw Drabble leaving the building. He couldn’t fail to recognise the large frame and the expensive dark suit walking away from him across the back yard of the warehouse towards a gate, beyond which stood Drabble’s parked car.

  Mickey set off after him trying hard to make as little noise as possible on the gravel covered yard, but as he approached, Drabble must have sensed something and the big man turned to face him.

  ‘Mickey, what the hell are you doing here? I told you to watch the club. You haven’t left those two idiots in charge have you?’

  Mickey pulled out the wooden cudgel and Drabble raised his hands and took a step back. ‘Come on now Mickey, don’t be an idiot. There’s no need to get over excited lad. Don’t do anything you’ll regret. Put it away and we’ll forget all about it.’

  But it was too late for that. Mickey had worked for Drabble for many years and had never received any respect, never felt like part of the family. The rage that he’d kept deep within him so many times in the past came roaring to the surface and there was no stopping it now as it broke free and engulfed his every action. He approached Drabble and swung the truncheon hard at the large man’s head. Drabble instinctively put his arm up and took the full force of the blow on his wrist.

  ‘Mickey, get a grip of yourself. I don’t want to have to hurt you. Pack it in.’ Drabble held his forearm and rubbed at it as Mickey drew back the club and aimed another blow at Drabble’s head. Before he had chance to land it, Drabble kicked out fast and hard, making contact between Mickey’s legs with incredible force. The intense pain ensured that Mickey fell to the ground, unable to catch his breath, gasping and coughing, writhing on the gravel. The rage was gone in an instant. It was over, and he already regretted his actions. As he lay there, Drabble reached inside his coat and pulled out a knife. He knelt down, unconcerned about his suit, and took a fistful of Mickey’s hair, pulling the boy’s face up close to his own.