“What the hell is going on?” she demanded.
Taylor’s eyes moved past her to the shuffling figure behind them. “Mr Neil Bartholomew, you’re under arrest for…”
They didn’t get to find out what he’d done because before anyone could react, Neil had wrapped an arm around Rachel’s neck and dragged her backwards, pressing a Stanley knife to her throat.
“Stay back or I’ll cut her,” he cried, eyes bulging with panic.
“Get off her,” snarled Ryan, advancing on him.
“Stop or I’ll slit her throat, I swear.”
“No you won’t you little bastard,” she hissed, furious, before bringing her high heel down on the top of his foot and jamming her elbow into his ribs.
Ryan grabbed his arm from Rachel’s neck, freeing her and slammed his forehead into his face. Neil sank to the floor, the Stanley knife clattering from his hand. Ryan pulled Rachel to him as the police piled into the room, threw Neil onto his front and cuffed him.
“Are you alright?” said Ryan, stroking his wife’s face, checking her neck for any cuts but there were none.
“Fine,” she replied sweetly.
He smiled down at her and kissed her. Despite her brave words he could feel her trembling.
“Sorry about that,” said an embarrassed Taylor. “We wanted to speak to you before searching the premises, we didn’t know he was in here.”
“You put my wife in danger.”
“I can only apologise but no one could have foreseen that.”
“He could have cut her throat,” Ryan said, furious.
“To be honest Mr Law, I don’t think he ever really stood a chance,” said Taylor, gesturing to Neil who was being hauled to his feet, blood trickling down his shirtfront and groaning in pain.
“Judging by the Stanley knife, I’m guessing he’s The Slasher?” said Rachel.
“Yes.”
“And he always works Friday nights, that’s why he struck on Saturdays,” said Rachel.
“Precisely. Hopefully we’ll soon have more answers. Was he working the night he supposedly struck at Martina’s Bar? He could have had a day off?”
“I can check for you.”
“Thank your Mrs Law. Here’s my card. Please let me know as soon as you find out.”
“I will.”
“I’ll be consulting my solicitor about this debacle,” said Ryan.
“That’s your right Sir,” replied Taylor before following his men out.
“There’s no need for that Ryan, I’m fine,” she said after they’d all gone.
“He could have killed you.”
“But he didn’t. Suing the Police isn’t going to help anyone. Please let it go, we’ve got enough on our plates.”
“Alright, if that’s what you want.”
“It is. You protected me from The Slasher, you took down the city’s most wanted criminal. You’re a hero,” she smiled as she smoothed down the collar of his shirt. “Who would have thought it, Ryan Law fighting criminals? You’ll be wearing your undies on the outside next.”
“My reputation will be in tatters.”
She kissed him. “My hero.”
“Come on, I think we’ve earned a drink.”
They walked back out to find the staff standing about in groups eagerly chatting.
“Alright, the excitement’s over. Get back to work,” called Ryan.
They returned to their duties while Rachel and Ryan slumped into a seat at the VIP bar and ordered a scotch each.
“Maybe at some point in the future people will stop wanting to kill us?” said Ryan, making Rachel chuckle.
“Wishful thinking Sweetheart,” she replied taking a deep drink, the scorching liquid soothing her nerves and she savoured the taste of peat smoke it left behind. “We seem to attract trouble. Can we help you?” she said when she noticed the barmaid hanging around, eavesdropping.
“I take it Neil isn’t coming back?”
“You got that right,” replied Rachel, draining her glass and sliding it across the bar. The barmaid refilled it and pushed it back. “Thanks.”
“It leaves us a bit short staffed.”
“I’ll get someone in to cover.”
“We open in an hour, I don’t have time to train them up.”
“Who I’ve got in mind won’t need training, she was working bars before you were born,” said Rachel, pulling out her phone and calling Dolores.
Rachel was proved right. Her most trusted member of staff and her right hand not only moved about the bar as though she’d worked there for years, but she charmed all the staff and customers alike, proving to Rachel and Ryan their instinct was right. When they offered her the position of General Manager at the end of her shift Dolores nearly fainted and protested that, although she was a damn fine poker player, she’d never run a casino before. Rachel countered by telling her no one could spot a cheat like she could and stopping people fleecing their business was her most important role. Dolores agreed she was more than up to that task and threw herself into her duties enthusiastically.
CHAPTER 8
DCI Taylor was once again on Rachel’s doorstep the very next morning.
“You’re becoming a regular visitor,” she smiled as he followed her in. “Any trouble getting past the press?” she said, gesturing to the crowd once again assembled at the bottom of her drive.
“No, none at all. Neil’s confessed to everything and I thought you deserved an explanation after what he did to you yesterday.”
“Oh yes?” she said, taking a seat and gesturing for him to do the same.
“Is your husband here?”
“No, he’s working.”
Although he didn’t show it, Taylor was relieved. “Neil Bartholomew is a very troubled man.”
“Well that goes without saying. So you got him to open up?”
“Oh yes. Actually he couldn’t wait to start talking. Typical bad childhood, bullied at school, alcoholic abusive father who put him in hospital a couple of times. But that’s not the interesting part. His surname isn’t Bartholomew, that was one he adopted because it was his mother‘s maiden name. His real name is Cutter, which makes Neil your brother-in-law.”
Rachel thought she’d misheard. “My husband’s name is Law, not Cutter.”
“I know but he and Neil share the same father, according to Neil.”
“Impossible. Not even Ryan knows who his father is.”
Rachel recalled that conversation they’d had years ago after they’d started seeing each other, when Ryan had confessed his deepest darkest secrets to her. Ryan had murdered his mother’s boyfriend, a local drug dealer, after he’d started abusing him. Ryan had nicked his stash and started dealing himself, which had got him noticed by Cutter.
“Cutter was married with kids, but he saw Estelle Law on the side for a few years and got her pregnant, the result being Ryan. Stuart fathered Neil by his wife, he was his youngest son. Neil hated how his dad elevated his bastard child when he practically ignored his legitimate ones. Stuart never knew that Neil saw him knife a business rival to death when he was eight, resulting in his lifelong fascination with knives. That‘s how we caught him. Our profiler said The Slasher was obsessed with knives and their power to elicit fear but he didn’t want his victims dead. He liked the thought of them alive and living in permanent fear of him. So we checked for anyone with previous for possession of a knife and he has a long history of that, starting from a young age. We managed to get him on CCTV after the attack at the last club.”
“Sid the idiot couldn’t have done any CRB checks on his staff otherwise I’m sure he would have sacked him.” Rachel made a mental note to do checks on every member of staff in the casino on Monday. She sat back and sighed. “I’m stunned.”
“He hates your husband Mrs Law because he’s jealous. Stuart died and Neil didn’t get to go to Cambridge like he’d planned because his mum said they had to tighten their belts and he went to Manchester University instead.”
&
nbsp; “He told us he was still paying off his debts,” she said thoughtfully.
“Why would he tell you that?”
“We caught him rifling through private documents in the office. He was working for Stephen Strang, a business rival of ours, allegedly. Do you think he knows Neil is Ryan’s brother?”
“He says he told no one but we can’t be sure.”
“That would explain why he attacked Martina’s Bar, but he couldn’t have, he was working at the casino that night, I already checked.” She looked back at Taylor with worried eyes. “If it wasn’t him, then who?”
“A copycat. We’ll see if they strike again now we have Neil in custody.”
“What will happen to him?”
“Twelve counts of premeditated grievous bodily harm, but the injuries weren’t life threatening, so he’s looking at twelve category two sentences of eleven years each. He might never get out. But then again, he has a history of depression, so his defence could argue he wasn’t entirely culpable. Although his previous was for knife crime he was only done for carrying one, not actually hurting anyone. If he’s lucky and gets a sympathetic judge and jury he might only serve two years per victim.”
“That’s still twenty four years.”
“Good behaviour, time served before trial, guilty plea, he’ll probably get out sooner, if it can be proved he won’t be a danger to the public when he’s released. Right now it’s difficult to say how it’ll go, we’re still investigating and he’s not exactly the sanest person in the world, he might not get to trial, he might end up living out the rest of his life in an institute. Who knows what else we’ll turn up, we’ve already had one big surprise.”
“Will it come out in court that he’s Ryan brother?”
“Possibly, if the defence decide to use it as his drive for stabbing people.”
“Oh God,” she sighed.
“We’ve only Neil’s word for this, so if your husband wants a DNA test, we can arrange that.”
“Thanks, I don’t think he’ll be willing to take Neil’s word for it. You said Stuart Cutter had kids, plural.”
“Four altogether, three boys and a girl.”
“So he has four new siblings, not just Neil?”
Taylor nodded.
“Christ, I don’t know what this is going to do to Ryan.”
“I think it’s best if it comes from you.”
“So do I. You look relieved.”
“I don’t think he likes me very much.”
“Nothing personal, he just doesn’t like Police full stop. If that was all you’d better get going, he’ll be back soon.”
“That’s all. I’ll keep you updated.” He hesitated as he walked to the door. “Be careful Rachel. If the person who attacked you and your club isn’t a copycat, then someone could be out to hurt you.”
“I’m used to it, believe me.”
After Taylor had left, Rachel paced the room anxiously, waiting for Ryan to come home, figuring out how she was going to break this shocking news to him, he was going to go berserk. There was no way of sugar-coating it, she’d just have to come straight out with it.
Ryan returned to the house an hour after Taylor left. He was able to read her so well that instantly he knew something was wrong. “What’s happened?”
“Sit down and I’ll tell you.”
He took a seat on the sofa, concern written all over his face as she sat beside him and took his hand. “DCI Taylor’s been to visit.”
“What did that arsehole want?”
“Neil Bartholomew, AKA The Slasher has confessed to everything, except the attack at Martina’s Bar because we know he couldn’t have done that.”
“Well that’s good. He’ll plead guilty, go to prison and that’s that.”
“Actually, it’s not.”
He looked at her questioningly. “Rachel?” he said when she remained silent.
“He…there’s no easy way of saying this. He says he’s your brother.”
“Sorry? For a moment there I thought you said he’s my brother.”
“I did.” When he just stared at her in surprise she continued. “He’s Stuart Cutter’s son.”
“Stuart Cutter, my mentor? But he wasn’t my father.” He laughed as though the idea was ridiculous.
“Yes he was Ryan, according to Neil anyway. He had a relationship with your mum. Neil is Cutter’s youngest son by his wife. He was jealous that you got to go to Cambridge when he couldn’t, didn’t understand why he was so good to his illegitimate child when he treated his own badly. According to Neil, his dad was an alcoholic who beat him.”
“He did have a bit of a drink problem, but nothing he couldn’t handle. How dare he insult his memory like that?”
“You don’t know what went on behind closed doors Ryan, he might well have hit his children, he wasn’t a very nice man.”
“He was to me, he was the closest thing I had to a father.”
“Because he was your father.”
Ryan went quiet and slumped back in his seat, his mind ticking over.
“Taylor said he can arrange a DNA test, there’s only Neil’s word that this is true. Did your mum never mention anything?”
“No. On the one occasion I did ask who my dad was she just laughed and said she could round it down to a few hundred. After that I didn’t like to ask again.”
“Do you know where she’s gone?”
“No and I don’t want to know. Even if I did find her she’d only tell me a pack of lies, it’s how she’s wired.” Ryan and Jez had ordered their mum to get out of Manchester and never come back after she gave Ryan’s enemies a key to his house, which almost led to him and Rachel getting murdered while they slept.
“I’m sorry Babe, I know this must be a shock,” she said, running her fingers through his hair. “What are you going to do?”
“Take the DNA test, after that, I don’t know. He put a knife to your throat. For that alone I could never forgive him.”
“He didn’t hurt me.”
“He might have done, given the chance. Did he tell the Police about his connection with Strang?”
“No, Taylor knew nothing about Strang.”
Ryan’s expression was thunderous. “I bet the bastard knew, that’s why he recruited him to be his mole.”
“How could he know? Neil said he told no one you’re his brother. What are you going to do?” she said when he shot to his feet.
“To see Strang,” he called.
“Wait,” she called back, leaping up after him.
“Stay here Rachel.”
“No way. I’m coming with you to make sure you don’t end up throwing him through a window.”
He appeared to consider arguing, then decided it would be futile. “Alright then.”
They jumped into his Audi and sped off. Strang’s headquarters were a smart set of offices in the city centre and Ryan cut up another driver to steal a parking spot right outside. Ignoring the angry yells of the driver they hurried inside, walking right past the Receptionist waiting to greet them and into the lift.
“Hey you can’t…” she called before she was cut off by the door sliding shut.
Rachel and Ryan knew exactly where they were going, they’d visited Strang here once before for a business meeting that had got them nowhere and descended into a row.
The lift doors opened to reveal a blond Barbie doll sat at a desk. She smiled in greeting.
“Can I help you?”
“Is Strang in?” said Ryan.
“He is. Who shall I say is here?” she said, reaching for the phone.
“Don’t bother, we’ll announce ourselves.”
“Hey, you can’t go in there without being announced,” the Receptionist protested, getting to her feet.
But they ignored her and strode in to find Strang sat at his desk playing Solitaire on his computer. “What are you doing here?” he said.
“I’m sorry Mr Strang I…,” began the Receptionist but Rachel cut her off by slam
ming the door shut in her face.
Strang took in Ryan’s furious expression and swallowed hard. “You can’t barge in here like this, I’ll call security.”
“No you won’t, not unless you want me to tell the Police you knew Neil Bartholomew was The Slasher.”
His face paled. “I didn’t know, not until I saw it on the news this morning.”
Ryan leaned across the desk, grabbed his tie and yanked him towards him. “I know you paid him to be your spy, that was how you knew about The Crown coming up for sale and about Franco Cipriani, so why the fuck should I believe you?”
“Because he’s hardly likely to tell me, is he?”
“He could have killed Rachel, he held a knife to her throat,” Ryan roared, shaking Strang around by his shirt front. “Your actions put her life in danger.”
“I swear I didn’t know. I admit I paid him to indulge in a bit of industrial espionage but that’s all. We might not see eye to eye but I have no wish to see either of you physically hurt.”
Ryan’s hard grey eyes searched his and he sighed and released him. “Alright, I believe you.”
“Thank you,” said a relieved Strang, straightening his clothes and retreating to the back of the room. “Now we’ve got that sorted out I want you to leave.”
“You don’t get off that easily, you sent someone to spy on us.”
“Are you seriously suggesting you’ve never done that to me before?” When neither of them replied he smiled triumphantly. “There we go.”
The door opened and two overweight and out of breath security guards stumbled inside. “Are you alright Mr Strang? Your secretary said you were being attacked.”
“I’m fine thank you, just a little misunderstanding. Mr and Mrs Law are just leaving, you can see them out.”
“We’re not fucking done,” hissed Ryan.
Rachel put a hand on his arm. “We got what we came for. Let’s go.”
“We’ll escort you out,” said the sweatiest and most unfit looking of the security guards.
Ryan stood nose to nose with the man, who swallowed nervously. “I don’t think I’ll let you do that,” he spat. Rachel and Ryan walked out alone.
A Family Divided (Dividing Line #3) Page 10