The Eddie Malloy Series

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The Eddie Malloy Series Page 12

by Joe McNally


  No reply.

  I even tried a veiled threat, ‘Rask’s dead now.’ But his expression remained blank. I gave up. It was late afternoon. I set off on the two-hour drive home.

  Halfway down the track to the cottage I pulled over and parked in a small clearing. Locking the car, I crept through the woods. The place looked to be as I’d left it.

  Staying in the trees, I circled warily to the rear. All the windows and doors looked secure. Moving to the front again, I stood behind a broad oak for five minutes, watching and listening. All quiet. My mind told me nobody was there, but my heart pounded as I crouched and hurried across the track for a close-up check of the building.

  No signs of entry, no footprints in soft soil, nothing amateur. Turning the key in the lock, I hoped nothing professional waited inside.

  I opened the door into the living room and immediately, instinctively, pulled it closed again as my brain registered someone sitting in the chair by the fireplace. In the time it took my heart to miss a beat, recognition followed and I looked inside again. It was Jackie.

  Resisting the temptation to rush to her in case of a set-up, I cautiously pushed the door all the way in until it touched the wall. Nobody lurked behind it. The whole room was in view. No sign of anyone else.

  The only sound was Jackie’s steady breathing.

  Moving through the house, I checked all the rooms and cupboards. None concealed any threat. I hurried to Jackie.

  Holding her wrist in a pulse-taking grip I gently raised her chin. Slowly she opened her eyes and smiled. ‘Hello,’ she said, ‘You had me scared half to death. How the hell did you get in?’

  ‘The back door was open.’

  ‘You’re kidding!’

  ‘I’m not! It wasn’t lying open, but it wasn’t locked. I just turned the handle.’

  ‘Jeez!’ I couldn’t believe it. All those precautions I’d been taking with the car and creeping through the woods, and I’d gone out and left a door unlocked.

  ‘At least you’re okay, I said. ‘I thought they’d done you in and dumped you here.’

  ‘Who?’ She was still smiling.

  ‘The same people who did this to my face.’

  ‘It’s better than it was on Tuesday.’

  ‘Not much.’

  She stared at me, the smile fading. ‘Does it still hurt?’

  ‘A bit, but I’ll survive. Listen, I hate to seem inhospitable, but what are you doing here?’

  She reached for a soft basket-weave bag at her feet and took out my jacket. She said, ‘I didn’t want to trust it to the post.’

  ‘It’s a fair distance to travel, Jackie.’

  'I hitched a lift this morning.’

  ‘What did you tell Roscoe?’

  ‘I had a few days off coming, so I told him my mother was ill and I had to go home and see her.’

  ‘Home to Killarney?’

  She smiled, ‘You remembered.'

  ‘My parents were from Ireland,’ I said lamely, keen that she didn’t misread my remembering as attachment.

  ‘Whereabouts?’

  ‘Donegal. I was born there.’

  ’So not only are your parents from Ireland, you are too?’

  ‘I suppose so.’

  She sat forward, smiling wider. Most of what I’d seen of her had been serious and sombre, she was a striking girl with rich chestnut hair and hazel eyes. She said, ‘There’s no supposing in it, Mister Malloy, is there?’

  ‘I suppose not,’ I tried to smile and she frowned watching the effort, and raised a soft hand, stopping just short of touching my face. She said, ’Shall I put some cream on that for you?’

  Wary of how this was obviously going, a decisive no left my brain on its way to my tongue, but somehow came out as, ‘Would you?’

  ‘Where is it?’ she got to her feet, and I went to the cupboard for the cream they’d given me.

  I sat in the chair while she carefully smoothed the ointment on my wasted skin.

  ‘Will you be badly scarred?’ she said.

  ‘Does it matter?’

  ‘Only for your sake.’

  ‘The doctor said he didn’t think so. The liquid that forms inside the blisters can do more damage than anything if it seeps out but he said we’re over that problem, though they weren’t exactly delighted when I discharged myself.’

  She nodded and after a few moments of silence said quietly, ‘You should have told me when I found you that you were in trouble with Mister Roscoe.’

  ‘Well, first, I didn’t know I was in trouble with Mister Roscoe till somebody tried to boil my face and, second, how could I expect you to take my side? You’ve worked for him for a while, haven’t you?’

  ‘About two years.’

  ‘And you hadn’t known me two minutes. Besides, by the time I realized where you were taking me it was too late to do anything. Not that I was in a fit state to.’

  ‘You should’ve said something.’

  ‘There was no point, especially since I knew Bobby would have talked anyway.’

  She nodded, still working with the cream. The scent she wore was very light, and I had to stop myself from drawing a long breath to sniff it. She said, ‘I knew there was something wrong when you didn’t want to stay in the house long enough for a doctor to get there, so I had decided not to say anything when Mister Roscoe came home.’

  ‘Do you think he believed you when you said you had planned to tell him if Bobby hadn’t beat you to it?’

  ‘I think so, but I suspected right off there was something funny because he knew who you were even though nobody told him your name.’

  ‘Does he know I’m out of hospital?’

  ‘I don’t know.’ She stared at me, hesitant, concern in her eyes. ‘I heard him talking about you on the phone yesterday afternoon and he was in a fierce temper. Whoever was at the other end was trying to calm him down, but he said you’d just cause more trouble and that they should have done more than just try to scare you off. That was the reason I came today.’ She stepped back so she could see my reaction. I just held her gaze. She continued, ‘And he said the man was now deciding if he wanted it done properly next time.’

  ‘Who’s the man, do you know?’

  ‘No. I thought you might.’

  I shook my head. ‘Did he say when the next time would be?’

  ‘No. What is it they’re doing?’ she asked. ‘Why do they want to kill you?’

  ‘I’ve half an idea, but that’s all it is. And anyway, the less you know the better. For your own sake.’

  ‘What about you?’

  ‘I’ll put some kind of plan together. Don’t worry.’

  ‘Is there anyone helping you?’

  ‘Sort of. Look, don’t worry, I’ll be okay.’

  She gazed at me again with those beautiful eyes. ‘Let me help you.’

  I stood up. ‘Jackie, you’ve only just met me! I could be a crook or a murderer.’

  She smiled and wrinkled her nose. ‘What a crap line! What gangster movie did you get that from?’

  I smiled and heard the slight smack of the cream, like a small kiss, as my skin moved. ‘I give up.’ I said and headed for the kitchen. ‘Want some coffee?’ I asked.

  ‘I’ll take some coffee if you let me help you.’

  ‘Okay, you can wash the cups.’

  ‘Very funny. You know what I mean.’

  ‘I know what you mean and it’s a crazy idea.’

  She followed me through to the kitchen. ‘How can it be crazy? I’m in the perfect place to spy for you.’

  ‘That’s what bothers me. You’re also in the perfect place to have your face ending up like mine and then how would I feel, especially since yours is a damn sight prettier to start with?’

  ‘Flattery won’t put me off, Eddie.’

  ‘I was already getting that impression.’

  ‘Well?’

  ‘Well, let’s have a cup of coffee and talk about something else like how we’re going to get you back to Ros
coe’s.’

  ‘I can’t go back till Sunday, remember? I’m in Ireland.’

  I turned to her and put my hands on her shoulders. ‘When I opened the door and saw you in that chair my first thought was, big trouble. Then I recognized you and said, thank God, it’s only Jackie. I’m beginning to think the first impression was right.’

  She smiled her soft warm smile again then, leaning forward, she closed her eyes and kissed me softly. I flinched. ‘Does it hurt?’ She asked.

  I nodded. She frowned. ‘But life’s a compromise, I suppose.’ I said and pulled her close.

  39

  Maybe if I’d been physically and emotionally stronger, or if I’d been in a serious relationship during the last couple of years, I would have succumbed less easily to Jackie’s determined seduction.

  But I, or rather we, ended up doing nothing for the next three days but making love, indoors and out, walking in the woods, eating, drinking, sleeping, laughing, talking (the only taboo subject was Roscoe, Harle and associates).

  At twenty, she was seven years my junior but she cooked for me, tended my face, bathed me, made me laugh, made me feel worthwhile and made me fall in love with her.

  When McCarthy rang on Saturday to ask if Harle had been found, I was sorely tempted to tell him I was giving up. It just didn’t seem to matter anymore. I was infatuated with Jackie, and she was, I think, with me.

  She was due back at Roscoe’s on Sunday morning. I told her we’d rise before dawn and I’d drive her there. On Saturday night, I took her to dinner. Jackie had made me forget all about my face and we breezed into the restaurant laughing, only for some of the ruder diners to stare open-mouthed at this Beauty and the Beast.

  She gazed at me through the candle flame. ‘Never mind, when your face is better we’ll come back and show them!’

  ‘They’ll probably get a bigger shock than they just did.’

  ‘What do you actually look like under all that, anyway?’

  ‘A cross between Mel Gibson and Tom Cruise. It won’t be my fault, of course, if I don’t return completely to my former glory.’

  She smiled and squeezed my hand. ‘I’ll never forget seeing your face that first morning. I almost fainted.’

  ‘I was doing enough fainting for both of us, thanks.’

  We ordered champagne. I reached for her hand. ‘I’ll miss you.’ I said.

  ‘I won’t go then.’

  ‘Seriously?’

  ‘Seriously. It’s not exactly the best job in the world. I’ll miss the horses, and the children, but you would just about make up for that.’

  I thought about it.

  ‘We could leave here,’ she said, ‘go to Ireland. I know places where they’d never find us.’

  ‘They…That’s the trouble, that’s what it would always come down to. They. Them. Looking over our shoulders all the time.’

  ‘Why would it come to that? What have you done that would make them hunt you down?’

  ‘I don’t want to talk about it, Jackie. I don’t want you involved.’

  ‘Okay, so I won’t get involved, I promise. I’m only asking you what you’ve done so far that means you can’t stop now?’

  I thought about it. ‘Nothing, I suppose.’ It was the easy way out, the way Kruger wanted me to take.

  ‘Well, then,’ Jackie said, ‘why don’t you forget it? You don’t have any family ties, there’s nothing to keep us here.’

  Us. Me and Jackie, tucked away in some little Irish village. No more villains. No more scaldings. No more stupid cops.

  ‘I could ring Mister Roscoe,’ Jackie said. ‘Tell him I’m not coming back because my mother’s worse than I thought. We could leave tomorrow.’

  She spent the next five minutes working on me, and much as the idea appealed on the surface, it was all the stuff underneath, everything we’d be running from, that would keep churning in my gut, never letting me rest.

  She saw it in my eyes. ‘I think I’ve lost this one, Eddie, haven’t I?’

  ‘Don’t count it as a loss. We’ll think back sometime and we’ll be glad we didn’t run.’

  ‘We will or you will?’

  ‘Both of us. I know I could never live with it and I’d take it out on you.’

  ‘I’m strong, I can stand it.’

  I smiled at her youthful optimism. ‘Maybe for a month or a year, but not forever.’

  ‘Try me.’

  ‘Listen to the wisdom of an older man.’

  ‘But-’

  I squeezed her hand and shook my head. ‘It’s our last night, let’s not argue.’

  Pursing her lips, she nodded almost imperceptibly. Then she shifted to her other suggestion, spying for me. I was dead against it for her sake, but she persisted. On the drive home, we reached a compromise.

  ‘Right, we’re agreed,’ I said.’ You take no chances whatsoever. You don’t go prowling, and you don’t ask anybody any questions. All you do is listen and watch as you go about your normal daily business. All right?’

  ‘Yes, sir.’

  ‘Come on, Jackie, this is serious.’

  ‘Okay! Okay! But I’m not a kid, Eddie!’

  ‘I know you’re not. You’re twenty and I want you to live till you’re thirty, and then forty and so on. That’s why I’m going to keep drilling into you how dangerous this is. These people are killers and maimers. Think about it!’

  She sat silent for a minute as we drove through the darkness, and then said, ‘Tell me the story so far.’

  40

  By the time we reached the cottage, I’d told her everything.

  I didn’t learn much new from Jackie about the people at Roscoe’s, though the fact that Roscoe ran a couple of horses regularly at the small tracks in France was interesting. The runners were always accompanied on their travels by either Skinner or Harle. I’d bet they weren’t there just for the racing.

  Lying on the rug in the firelight, we finalized plans. ‘I’m particularly interested in what Skinner’s doing at the yard,’ I said. I felt her shiver.

  ‘Yugh!’

  ‘Not your favourite person, I guess?’

  ‘He’s a dirty old bastard. Always trying to touch me up or making filthy suggestions.’

  ‘He does look the part.’

  ‘If I’m grooming or mucking out, he’ll wait till my back’s turned and, preferably, till I’m bending over, then he sneaks into the box under some silly pretext and tries it on.’

  ‘You’d be amazed how much he’d probably respond to a well-aimed prod with a pitchfork.’

  ‘I thought of that but up till now I’ve needed the job too much. Once this is over, I’ll think of some way to fix him.’

  ‘Let me know, I’d like to be there.’

  ‘I will.’

  ‘How long has he been at the yard?’

  ‘Almost a year. I remember him first trying to grope me on Derby day.’

  ‘Is he just doing normal vet-type things, apart from the groping, that is?’

  ‘Yes, as far as I can see. He takes blood tests, checks legs, gives injections, that sort of stuff.’

  ‘Ever seen him injecting what you thought was a healthy horse?’

  ‘No, definitely not. I’d have noticed. Then again I don’t see everything he does.’

  ‘I bet you don’t. Where does he live?’

  ‘Mister Roscoe moved him into the head lad’s cottage when he arrived.’

  ‘Must have pleased the head lad.’

  ‘He left shortly afterwards.’

  ‘Does Skinner have a lab to analyze the blood tests?’

  ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘Ever been in his cottage?’

  ‘What kind of a girl do you think I am?’

  I smiled. ‘Come on, Jackie, stop messing about.’

  ‘No, I haven’t. Nobody goes up there because he keeps this big bloody Rottweiler and lets it roam around the house.’

  ‘Does he spend much time in the cottage?’

  ‘Can’t sa
y I’ve really noticed.’

  ‘That’s one thing you could start looking out for then, and do you have free access to all parts of the house?’

  ‘Pretty much, with the kids running around.’

  ‘You’ll have noticed the shotguns in the library?’

  ‘I often polish them for him.’

  ‘Jeez, he gets his money’s worth, right enough!’

  ‘It’s nothing to me, Eddie, I have plenty of energy,’ she smiled mischievously.

  ‘Those guns, does he ever use them? Does he go shooting? He just doesn’t look the type to me.’

  ‘I’ve haven’t seen him take them outside, though that’s not to say he doesn’t. But I’ve never known him go shooting.’

  ‘Would you be in the house every day?’

  ‘I would.’

  ‘Keep an eye on that case, will you. I’d like to know if a gun goes missing.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Because whoever has it might be coming in my direction.’

  She looked serious for the first time that evening. I reached for her hand, ‘What I want above all is for you to take no chances.’

  She squeezed my hand and said quietly, ‘I won’t.’

  ‘I mean it, Jackie!’

  ‘Okay, okay, I know you do!’ She leaned forward and kissed me. ‘You’re a terrible nag, Edward Malloy!’

  ‘I’ve ridden some terrible nags, too, in my time.’

  She grimaced. ‘Your jokes are worse than your face!’

  I grabbed her around the waist. ‘But you love it anyway.’

  ‘Oh, do I now?’

  And we kissed. Then, in the glow of the dying embers, we made love, but not with the usual passion and energy. Thoughts remained unspoken but we knew the next time might be weeks or months away or, depending on the coming days, depending on Kruger and his thugs, maybe never.

  On the drive to Roscoe’s next morning, we went over the things she’d be looking out for and agreed that she would ring me from the pub each night if she could, at ten o’clock.

  ‘What about you?’ she asked. ‘What are your plans?’

  ‘Tomorrow I’m going to Kempton in the hope of seeing Harle’s girlfriend. She’s usually at the London tracks and there’s a chance if he is still alive that he’s tried to contact her. Where I go from there, I don’t know yet, but I’ll keep you up to date each time we talk. Remember, if you can’t get me or if anything happens to me, you’ve got McCarthy’s number. I’ll speak to him tomorrow and tell him what we’ve planned.’

 

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