The Driver

by Mandasue Heller

  ‘No, I’ll wait for you,’ Katya assured him. ‘Do you think I might be able to take a bath?’ she asked then. ‘I wouldn’t make any sound, and I’ll keep the lights off.’

  ‘I’m sure that would be fine,’ Joe told her, getting up. ‘I’ll be as quick as I can, but you’ve got my number if you need me before I get back.’

  ‘Thank you,’ Katya said, gently moving the cat and getting up herself to show him out.

  Joe walked down the hall, unaware of how close behind him Katya was. Turning before he opened the door, he was surprised to find himself almost nose to nose with her. She too hadn’t realised how close she was and she dipped her gaze shyly now.

  ‘Sorry,’ Joe apologised. ‘I, er . . .’ He jerked his thumb at the door. ‘I’d probably best put the key back in the pot – just in case.’

  ‘Oh, yes, of course,’ Katya murmured, handing it over.

  ‘Best go, then,’ Joe said. ‘I’ll give you a ring when I’m on my way back.’

  Nodding, Katya closed the door after him and leaned her back against it. They had been so close just now that she’d been able to smell the individual scents of him. And it hadn’t been unpleasant. In fact it had been the absolute reverse.

  But she had no right to be thinking such things at a time like this. Or feeling such things for him when she had brought nothing but trouble into his life. He’d said that he didn’t mind, insisted that he wanted to help her, but he couldn’t have expected things to become this complicated. And she felt guilty now, because he had his own life to live, his own job to worry about. She just prayed that Eddie never found out that Joe had been helping her, because that would be bad. Very, very bad.

  But it was too late to stop him now.

  23

  Carl was knocking on his own front door when Joe came out of the stairwell. He frowned when he saw him and said, ‘Where have you been? I saw you parking up ages ago.’

  ‘Bumped into that girl on the sixth floor and she invited me up for a brew,’ Joe lied, thinking on his feet as he headed towards his own door. ‘You still locked out?’

  ‘No, I’m just testing the knocker to make sure it works,’ Carl replied facetiously.

  ‘I take it Mel’s not back yet?’

  ‘If she is she ain’t letting on,’ Carl grumbled, following him into the flat. ‘I don’t even care where she is now or what she’s been up to, I just want to get at my shit. I’ve been stuck down at Cheryl’s for the past few hours. And I’m not complaining, ’cos you know I think the world of her. But we’ve only had a spliff between us in all that time and I’m gagging. Don’t suppose . . . ?’

  ‘Bedside table,’ Joe said. Glancing at his watch when Carl rushed off to get the weed, he bit his lip, praying that Mel would get back soon, because he had to get on with finding somewhere to take Katya.

  ‘Eddie was looking for you earlier,’ Carl said, coming back with the gear and flopping down on the couch. ‘He rang me when I was at Cheryl’s, made me come and knock on for you.’

  ‘I switched my phone off when I went for that meeting,’ Joe told him. ‘What did he want?’

  ‘A lift back from the hospital, I think.’

  ‘How come he’s at the hospital?’ Joe asked. ‘He’s not had an accident, has he?’

  ‘Oh, yeah, I forgot you’d missed all the action,’ Carl said, licking the Rizlas. ‘And I saw how fast you came in after parking up so I’m betting you didn’t even notice all the pigs down at the brook, did you?’

  ‘Eh?’ Joe frowned.

  ‘Thought not.’ Carl chuckled. ‘Man, that bird up on the sixth must have some shit-hot coffee if you didn’t see all the crap going on out there. They’ve found a body, innit.’

  ‘Really? Who is it?’

  ‘Some baby.’ Carl shrugged. ‘No one’s got a clue where it’s come from, though.’

  ‘That’s terrible.’ Joe tutted, taking another peek at his watch.

  Carl finished rolling his spliff. ‘God, I needed this,’ he sighed, lighting up and stretching his legs out. ‘Don’t mind if I take a bit down for Cheryl after we’ve had this, though, do you?’

  ‘Help yourself,’ Joe said, wishing that Carl would just go now.

  ‘Cheers, mate. I’ll sort you out after I get mine,’ Carl promised.

  It was another fifteen minutes before Carl eventually left and every second had stretched out like an eternity for Joe. As soon as he’d closed the door behind him he ran into his bedroom to find his address book.

  Eddie rushed into the corridor seconds after Carl had gone back into Cheryl’s. He’d called Clive from the cab on the way back, only to hear that he was having no luck finding the girls. Which made it even more imperative for Eddie to clean out Chrissie’s flat. And his own, because he really didn’t need traces of anything incriminating lying around if the pigs came calling.

  The dog bounded out of the kitchen when it heard him coming in. Then, sensing his agitation, it slunk straight back in and cowered on its pillow, its gaze flicking from the door to the pile of shit it had left in the corner.

  Tasha had taken the keys to Chrissie’s place so Eddie was forced to look for the spare. Pissed off when he finally found it in the dressing-table drawer after half an hour of tearing the place apart, he stomped next door.

  He rarely bothered going in there apart from when he went to take the girls’ money or give them a slap, and he didn’t want to be in here now, with its disgusting gloss-painted walls and crappy old furniture. But it just confirmed what he already knew: that Chrissie would never move back in here out of choice. And neither would she move back to her mum’s if it meant giving up all the luxuries that she had round at Eddie’s place. The sixty-inch TV he’d fitted to the wall, for example. There was no way she’d ever be able to afford one of them. Or the black granite fire surround he’d had imported for six grand; the state-of-the-art hi-fi, and the plush carpet. Shit, even the mirror had cost more than she got off the social in a year. Nah, she could say what she liked – she was going nowhere.

  Which was just as well, because all this shit that had been going on tonight had given Eddie a kick up the backside and made him realise that he’d been pissing away some major opportunities. His girls, for example. If he’d done things right from the start he’d have been rolling in it by now. But he’d treated them like a hobby so far, when he could have been well on his way to setting up a shit-hot little harem of high-class hookers. But he wouldn’t make the same mistake again. When he found them – and he would – there would be no more faffing about; it would be business all the way.

  Satisfied, after a quick look around, that there was really nothing to show that he had ever been into Chrissie’s flat, Eddie went home to scour every nook and cranny of his own place for traces of drugs or any incriminating amounts of money that he might have forgotten about. He knew what the cops were like. They’d been after him for ever and if they thought there was a hint of a chance of catching him with so much as a spliff’s worth they’d be all over him with a pack of sniffer dogs.

  It was gone twelve when he’d finished and he was sweating like a pig. So he lit up, opened the window and leaned his elbows on the sill to take a look at what was happening outside. The police had packed up and gone, leaving just the blue and white tape behind to mark the spot where they had made their grim discovery. And the locals had already trampled most of that down when they’d done a mass dash through the gap as soon as the last police van had left – they’d wanted to see the spot for themselves.

  Eddie was still gazing out when someone knocked on the door a short time later. He tensed. It hadn’t sounded like a copper’s knock but it didn’t sound like Clive’s either. And all his lads knew better than to come up here without invitation – so who could it be?

  It was Patsy.

  ‘What the fuck are you doing here again?’ he demanded, yanking the door open and dragging her inside. ‘I told you to stay put at your place.’

  ‘You left me again,’ Patsy m
oaned. ‘You said you’d come round this morning but you didn’t.’

  ‘Don’t you think I’ve got better things to do than run around after you?’ Eddie barked, lashing her across the face with the back of his hand and throttling her with the other. ‘Get the fuck back to your place – and stay there this time or I’ll fucking kill you!’

  ‘I can’t!’ Patsy wailed, her voice rising to a screech as he raised his hand again. ‘The police have been asking questions. I – I think they’re coming to get me.’

  ‘They fucking will if they see you walking round looking like this, you dirty little skank!’ Eddie spat, hurling her against the door. ‘And what the fuck d’y think’s gonna happen if they see you coming round here?’

  ‘They’re going to kill me,’ Patsy screamed.

  ‘They won’t, but I might if you don’t shut it,’ Eddie warned her, seizing her by the throat again and glaring down into her crazed eyes. ‘Now, do as you’re told and fuck off, or I really will lose it.’

  ‘Can’t,’ Patsy croaked, her words coming out in strangled gasps. ‘Baby . . . baby . . .’

  ‘What about the fucking baby?’ Eddie demanded. Then, a light flaring to life in his head, he hissed, ‘No way! No fucking way was that your baby they found!’

  ‘It wasn’t me,’ Patsy yelped. ‘It was . . . it was sick. It fell out of the window.’

  ‘And crawled to the fucking brook all by itself?’ Eddie roared.

  As the enormity of what she’d just told him hit home, Eddie felt the red mist of rage descend over his head like a blanket.

  ‘What the fuck have you done?’ he yelled, drawing his fist back and slamming it into her mouth.

  Patsy’s lips exploded as her last few secure teeth burst out through the skin. Oblivious to the blood that had sprayed over his hand and the pulp that had embedded itself in his gold-eagle ring, Eddie punched her again and again, yelling, ‘They’ll know it was mine if they test it . . . YOU . . . STUPID . . . FUCKING . . . BITCH!’

  He switched to kicking her when her body slithered down the wall and landed in a heap on the floor. His chest was heaving when the mist began to evaporate at last and he blinked rapidly when he saw the mess he’d made of her. He ran his hands through his hair.

  ‘Oh, for fuck’s sake!’ he muttered, prodding her with his foot. ‘Oi! Get up. I’m not messing about – get the fuck up.’

  Patsy’s body flopped around like a lump of jelly under his foot. And then he noticed the blood. It was everywhere; the door, the wall, the floor beneath her.

  Eddie kicked his trainers off when he realised that he was standing in it. Then he ran into the kitchen and filled the mop bucket with bleach and hot water.

  ‘Wait!’ he told himself firmly, holding up his hands and walking around in circles. ‘Right, you’ve got to do this in order. Get her wrapped up, then clean up.’

  And then what?

  He ran back into the living room and tugged his mobile out of his jacket pocket.

  ‘I need you to get back here right now,’ he said when Clive answered.

  ‘No can do,’ Clive told him quietly. ‘I’ve just been pulled over. The pig’s just getting out of his car.’

  ‘What the fuck are you talking about?’ Eddie yelled, unable to believe this was happening to him. ‘I need you here – now!’

  ‘Listen, man, they’re probably gonna try and do me for kerb-crawling ’cos I’ve been trawling the fucking streets for hours,’ Clive hissed angrily. ‘And we both know what’ll happen if Letty finds out, so do me a fucking favour and sort out your own shit for a change, will you? I’ll get back to you as soon as I can.’

  Eddie wasn’t used to having the phone put down on him and the rage bubbled up afresh in his chest now. He needed Clive but the man was just sitting there like a prick waiting to get booked when he should have just put his foot down and done one as soon as the pig gave him the blue lights.

  But cursing Clive wasn’t going to get him here any faster, Eddie realised. And he needed help right now.

  ‘Where are you?’ he demanded, calling Carl instead.

  ‘At Cheryl’s, having a smoke,’ Carl told him, chuckling softly at something Cheryl had just said. ‘Why, what’s up? Not still looking for Joe, are you, ’cos—’

  ‘Just shut up, and get your arse round to mine,’ Eddie ordered. ‘And don’t be telling her who this is or where you’re going – you got that? And fetch some rubber gloves while you’re at it.’

  ‘I can’t, I’m locked out,’ Carl told him, all humour gone from his voice as he picked up on the urgency in Eddie’s. Excusing himself, he walked out into Cheryl’s hall. ‘Do you want me to go to the all-night garage and see if they’ve got any?’

  ‘Get some off Cheryl,’ Eddie snapped. ‘She’s a clean freak, she’s bound to have some.’

  ‘What should I tell her they’re for?’ Carl asked, whispering now.

  ‘Carry on asking stupid questions and see what happens,’ Eddie warned him.

  Carl sighed when Eddie hung up abruptly. He wandered back into the living room.

  ‘Don’t suppose you’ve got any rubber gloves I can borrow, have you, Chez?’

  ‘Rubber gloves?’ she repeated, glancing up at him over the back of the couch with a questioning smile on her face. ‘What the hell do you need them for at this time of night?’

  ‘That was, um, a lass up on my floor. Her sink’s blocked so I’ve said I’ll take a look at it for her,’ Carl lied.

  ‘Proper little Sir Galahad, you, aren’t you?’ Cheryl laughed. Then, waving her hand towards the kitchen, she said, ‘They’re under the sink. Sorry, I’ve only got girly pink ones,’ she added teasingly. ‘And you’d best hope Mel doesn’t find out you’re rushing off to another girl’s flat in the middle of the night or she’ll string you up.’

  ‘Like I care what she thinks,’ Carl snorted, heading into the kitchen. ‘I’ll get you a new pair in the morning.’

  ‘Don’t be daft. I’ve got about a hundred pairs.’

  ‘Cheers, babe,’ Carl said, winking at her. ‘See you tomorrow.’

  Patsy’s body was slumped right behind the front door. Eddie didn’t have any intention of touching it if he could help it, so he moved her by pulling the door open when Carl tapped on it.

  About to enter, Carl hesitated when he glanced down and saw the blood. ‘What’s happened?’ he gasped. ‘Are you okay?’

  ‘Just get in,’ Eddie hissed.

  Hesitating again when he took a step in and saw that there was a body attached to the mess, Carl swallowed loudly and averted his eyes.

  ‘Oh, shit, man. Is it . . . you know?’

  ‘What’s it fucking look like?’ Eddie muttered, pulling him the rest of the way in and closing the door.

  ‘Aw, man, it’s not Chrissie, is it?’ Carl gulped.

  ‘Don’t talk shit!’ Eddie snapped. ‘She’s in hospital.’

  ‘Yeah, yeah, course,’ Carl muttered, stepping further away from the corpse and pressing his back up against the wall. ‘Here.’ He held out the gloves.

  ‘I’ve already got some,’ Eddie informed him. ‘They’re for you.’

  ‘What?’ Carl was horrified. ‘Why, man? What d’y want me to do?’

  ‘Help me get it out of here,’ Eddie told him, pulling his own gloves on with a snap.

  ‘And put it where?’

  ‘Next door,’ Eddie said, shoving his feet back into his trainers. He sat down by the living-room door, pulled a plastic bag over each foot and tied them around his ankles. ‘Here.’ He tossed a couple of bags to Carl.

  ‘Why you putting it next door?’ Carl asked, already sick to his stomach at the thought of touching the stiff.

  ‘’Cos I don’t want it in here,’ Eddie said simply. ‘And there’s a rug in there, so we’re gonna wrap it up in that and wait for Clive to fetch the car round.’

  ‘Is he on his way?’ Carl asked, relieved to hear that Clive was coming because Eddie would probably want to deal with this just with
him. That was the usual way they worked.

  ‘He will be as soon as he’s shook the pigs off,’ Eddie muttered, cracking his knuckles now in preparation for the next step.

  ‘The pigs?’ Carl repeated.

  ‘Just shut up and let’s get this over with,’ Eddie said irritably. ‘Take a look outside and make sure no one’s about. Then go and open up next door.’ He tossed the spare key over.

  Carl caught the key and determinedly avoided looking at the dead body as he edged his way out around it. There was nobody around out in the corridor but the paranoia had already settled over him like a cloak of thorns, pricking at his skin like little electric shocks and sparking mad images in his head of eyes watching from behind every door.

  ‘I’ll get the legs,’ Eddie declared when he came back a few seconds later. ‘You get the top end.’

  ‘Aw, man, I can’t do this,’ Carl complained sickly.

  ‘Yes, you fucking can,’ Eddie snarled through gritted teeth. ‘Now pick it up. And if I have to tell you again I’ll slit your fucking throat and bury the pair of you together! Got that?’

  Nodding, Carl squatted down reluctantly and slid his hands under the corpse’s shoulders. Holding his breath for fear of accidentally inhaling any of its death spores, he hoisted his end up. Almost dropping it when Eddie did drop the legs in his quest not to touch anything more substantial than the toes of Patsy’s shoes, Carl squeezed his eyes shut when the head rolled against his crotch.

  ‘Open the door,’ Eddie ordered.

  Yeah, ’cos I’m fucking Superman, me! Carl thought bitterly. But he kept his mouth shut and did as he was told, using his elbow because his hands were already occupied.

  Once they were safely in Chrissie’s flat Eddie dropped his end of the body on the rug. Then, giving Carl a funny look when he didn’t immediately drop his end, he said, ‘What you doing, man? This ain’t no time for fucking dancing with her.’

  Even more sickened now that it had been confirmed that the corpse was that of a woman, Carl laid his end down with a little more care than Eddie had displayed.