Thorn In My Side

by Sheila Quigley

  'What the hell are you doing, Danny, you bloody idiot?' He turned as he got up, the angry expression on his face changing to one of puzzlement when he saw Danny struggling to pull Liam’s large hand off his mouth. He found himself standing eye to eye with Gary.

  'What?' he asked flatly.

  'Inside.'

  Liam dragged a struggling Danny through the door, kicked it shut behind him, and followed Gary, as Evan backed down the hallway.

  'Sit,' Gary snarled, when they were all in the sitting room. Evan sat down quickly, while Liam pushed Danny down onto the settee.

  'Fuck off, yer ugly prick,' Danny shouted, when Liam finally let go of his face. 'Who do you think you are? Acting like a pair of friggin’ thugs, you… you...'

  'Shut it,' Gary hissed.

  'No, I won't shut it. His fucking hands stink of garlic. Have you never heard of soap and water?' Danny spat the taste of garlic out of his mouth and, lifting up a corner of his T-shirt, rubbed his lips. Glaring at Liam, he muttered, 'Scruffy bastard.'

  Liam shrugged and sat on the chair facing them, as usual leaving what was to be said to Gary.

  'Right, yer stupid twat, where the fuck is she?' Gary’s question was directed at Danny, while Evan looked on, totally out of synch, feeling as if he was on the inside of a fish tank receiving the world five seconds after everyone else. All he could see was Alicia’s pale face. Right now it was all he wanted to see. He couldn’t have cared less what was going on around him.

  'I don’t know,' Danny yelled back. 'Do you think for one minute I’d be sitting here if I did? Anyhow, how did you know that… that me and Shelly were, er…' Deliberately, they had not told Shelly’s brothers that they were together, because she was adamant that she had to prove herself without them. She had big plans, had Shelly. Sometimes, when she was in full flow, Danny wondered if he was part of these future plans.

  'Living together,' Gary put in. 'What do yer think we are? Like we’re gonna let our little sis go walkabouts? Like we didn’t know she was shacked up with you? We knew from the beginning… She seemed happy, it’s what she wanted.' He shrugged. 'OK, it hurt when she turned her back on us, but we gave her the space she wanted… And look what the fuck happens.'

  Danny recoiled, his head pressed back on the settee to escape Gary’s face, which was now only four inches from his.

  'She, she went out two days ago, and that’s the last I saw of her. I was gonna start looking today, honest. Then the next thing I find,' he glanced quickly at Evan, 'well, you know.'

  'Know what?'

  Danny swallowed hard. He practically whispered,' The dead girl.' He looked out the corner of his eye at Evan, but it seemed Evan was totally unaware of his surroundings. 'It, it’s Alicia, Evan’s girlfriend.'

  'Ohh.' Gary swung his head towards Evan. 'Sorry for yer loss, mate. Truly we are. If there’s anything we can do, yer’ve just gotta ask… But yer gotta understand here, mate, because of her condition, we’ve gotta find our Shelly.'

  Evan went right on staring at the fireplace, his expression a total blank. Everything Gary had said had gone straight over the top of his head. Gary turned back to Danny. He glared at him for a minute that seemed to stretch to ten. When Danny began to fidget, Gary said at last, 'She’s a fucking diabetic, yer stupid prick. She can’t just go walkabout, no way. And she wouldn’t anyhow, not unless she was terrified of something. And you’ll know as well as we do, our Shelly isn’t easily frightened… So what the fuck’s been going on? You beating her up, eh? Are you? 'Cos if you are...' He lifted his fist. 'I swear I’ll fucking well kill you.'

  'No, no,' Danny protested, horrified that anyone could even think that he would hit a woman. 'I wouldn’t…' He sighed. His eyes full of tears, he repeated, 'I wouldn’t. Honest to God.'

  'OK.' Gary stepped back, letting his hand, still clenched in a fist, fall to his side. 'Let’s say I believe yer, just for the time being. OK… So who’s her best mate up here? You know, the one she hangs out with the most?'

  Danny looked at Evan again. 'Al… Alicia.'

  'Thought as much.' Gary stopped himself just in time from saying, And look what happened to her. 'There must be others?' He frowned at Danny.

  'Yeah, a couple, I was going to look them up today.' He nodded, eager for Gary to think he was on the case.

  'Right. We’ll go and grab something to eat, then we’ll come back for you, OK… So don’t do any sort of disappearing act. ‘Cos we’ll find you. And God help yer when we do.'

  Eyes wide, Danny nodded again, wanting rid of them for Evan’s sake, but pleased in a way that he had them onside in his coming search for Shelly. Some of the creeps he had to visit, he’d rather have a bit of muscle with him. Plus he needed some time to come to terms with what had happened to Alicia. He couldn’t shake off the black thought that Shelly might have suffered the same fate. But if she has, where the hell is she?

  Is she lying in some godforsaken hovel, like a piece of discarded rubbish?

  Please God, don’t let her be lying somewhere all alone, not that, please not all by herself, he begged.

  Sighing deeply, he got up to see them out. He had only taken a few steps when there was a sudden pounding on the door. Passing Gary and Liam, he hurried down the hallway. Opening the door, he found Alicia’s family standing outside. Her mother, grandfather and two uncles, the only family she possessed, apart from three small cousins. Danny ushered them in.

  'I better put the kettle on,' he whispered to Gary and Liam. They nodded, and made their way to the door. 'See you in a bit,' Danny said, closing the door just as Alicia’s mother started crying. With a heavy heart, he went back into the sitting room.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

  Mike spun the pen through his fingers like a majorette’s baton. After it had clattered on the floor for the fourth time, Kristina said loudly, 'For Christ’s sake, Michael.'

  'Oh, oh, I’m in trouble… Michael!'

  Kristina, like Aunt May and a few good friends, only ever used his full name when they were annoyed with him.

  'I’m trying to concentrate here.' She scowled, and he smiled at her. Ignoring his attempt to charm her, she turned back to her computer. 'Go and find someone to arrest.'

  'Now, that’s a good idea. Any suggestions?'

  She narrowed her eyes, and he knew he was heading into deep water. 'OK, sorry. Fancy a drink?'

  'A coffee would be good.'

  Pulling a sour face, he said, 'Yeah, OK. Though why you still drink that poison...' He waved as he headed out of the office. Only then did Kristina allow herself a smile.

  She’d loved Mike once, probably still did a little. Who wouldn’t love a man who took time out of his busy life to help train a bunch of football-mad kids, visit his maiden aunt as often as he could, call in at the RSPCA at least once a month with a tray of dog food? It was only because he spent so much time away that he didn’t have half a dozen mangy mutts of his own.

  But, boy, could he be as pig-headed as he was charming.

  Sighing, she shook her head. And now, from what he’d told her, he had another couple of lost souls under his wing.

  She pressed a few more keys, then sat back in amazement. Quickly she read down the page.

  'Mike!'

  CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

  Shelly knew she had to reach the fridge, but the reason why was fading fast. Drink? Eat? Drink? The fridge seemed a thousand miles away and travelling, as, wobbling from side to side, she slowly crossed the kitchen floor. 'Gotta get there,' she muttered, 'just gotta get there.'

  She stared at the tiled floor for a moment; red and white tiles. OK, take one at a time.

  'Why?'

  Sugar, I need sugar, that’s why. I have to have it. Have to or die.

  Reach the fridge, gotta reach the fridge. She stared at the large white door. There’ll be food inside.

  'Why bother?' she muttered, her foot hovering over a red square.

  ''Cos, 'cos them bastards will, will, win if, if I don’t get there, there
.'

  Putting her right foot down, she dragged the left foot forward. Slowly, one step at a time, her mouth set in a stubborn line, she reached the fridge. All she wanted to do was rest, but something was driving her on. She knew deep inside that to stop now would be fatal, but her reason for crossing what had become an immense space was fading fast.

  She stared at a fridge magnet of the Tower of London as her hand scrabbled weakly at the fridge door. Her fingers might as well have been feathers for all the good they were. Her heart was pounding so hard and fast now, it seemed as if it would burst.

  Rapidly she blinked. Her eyes were full of glittering shards. She shook her head to dispel them as her fingers finally settled on the handle. She pulled at the door, but it seemed to be stuck tight.

  'Open, damn it.' Her words were slurred. She wanted to sit down, anywhere would do, she really couldn’t care less now.

  With a sigh, she gave up and slowly started to slide down the side of the door.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

  'What?' Mike frowned, putting his head round the door. 'A mouse in the house?'

  Kristina tutted. 'As if… No, look.' She pointed urgently at the screen of her PC.

  Mike moved into the room. A moment later, he said, 'Well, that was kept quiet. How the hell has this not been heard of before now? Jesus Christ… Come on, Kristina, it’s just about one of the nastiest things we’ve ever seen.'

  'A need-to-know basis perhaps?'

  'Get me that guy on the phone.' He moved to the world map that took up half the office wall, and concentrated on a small town in France.

  When the call came, it was from a Detective Benoit Moreau, whose English was impeccable. More than can be said for my French, Mike thought, as he said, 'Hello, this is Mike.'

  'Hello, hello,' Moreau replied. 'You are enquiring about a body of a young man found in a bed early last year, yes? A body that had been scourged.'

  Mike winced, seeing the girl’s back all over again. 'Yeah. Sickening, isn’t it.'

  'I had nightmares for months,' Moreau said. 'He reminded me so much of my son. Same age, same colouring.'

  'Is there anything you can tell me about the case? Did you arrest the murderer?'

  'No… it was, as you say, a one-off. No leads, nothing. When his partner committed suicide, the case was closed.'

  'She committed suicide?' Mike frowned at Kristina.

  'It was not a she.'

  'What... Oh, so they were gay?'

  'Such a silly word for homosexuals, but yes, they were gay. The case was closed.'

  'And you were happy with that?' Mike sensed a note of discontent in Detective Moreau’s voice.

  'I had no choice. The orders came from way above me. I was ordered to let it go. But Detective Yorke, I had… have a feeling that it was a warning.'

  'A warning?'

  'Yes.'

  Mike felt as if he was trying to pull teeth. Moreau wanted to talk, but there was something holding him back, and he was choosing his words very carefully. 'You mean it wasn’t the partner?'

  'No. The partner’s alibi was sound. He was on stage, three hundred miles away, at the time of death.'

  'Hmm. Famous, was he?'

  'On the brink of international fame. According to my son, that is. He would travel all over France to the concerts.'

  'So how did he die?'

  'He killed himself two days later, a drug overdose. He was found in his hotel room.'

  'OK, so who do you think the warning was for?'

  'I have no idea… I really must go now. I hope I have been of some help… If you find whoever did this, please be so courteous as to let me know.'

  'Of course. One other thing, did, er… did any of the bodies suffer from hemathidrosis?'

  'No, definitely not.'

  Mike was disappointed, 'So you know what it means.'

  'Of course.'

  'Oh, well. Bye then.'

  'Goodbye.'

  Mike put the phone down and looked ruefully at Kristina, who was frowning at him. What she asked next made him feel much better.

  'What’s hemathidrosis?'

  CHAPTER FORTY

  'Bloody idiot,' Mike yelled, as the small yellow car cut him off on the turn towards the island. 'Stupid yellow bloody idiot. Hours yet before the tide comes in.'

  He followed the car through Beal, over the train crossing, down the long windy road and onto the causeway, and saw that the water was actually lapping at the edges. 'Must have read the table wrong,' he muttered.

  Further along he realised that he hadn’t got it wrong. The tide was going out and the causeway must have only been open half an hour or so. 'So what’s the rush, little yellow bird?'

  The car started to slow down. At the same time, Mike saw Smiler sitting on a large boulder at the end of the causeway. He had Tiny with him. A young girl with long black hair was sitting next to him and stroking Tiny who of course was revelling in her attention.

  The yellow car stopped alongside them and, to Mike’s surprise, Jill Patterson jumped out. Running round the car, she grabbed hold of the girl’s arm. Mike pulled up behind them, and got out of his car in time to hear Jill shouting at the girl, who was desperately trying to pull away from her.

  'What do you think you’re doing? You scared me half to death when you weren’t there. You know you have to wait. Don’t you? Don’t you?'

  The girl scowled as she yelled back, 'Why should I? You think I’m still a baby, don’t you? Well, I’m fed up with it.' She tried to pull her arm away, but Jill’s grip was stronger than hers. 'I’m quite capable of getting the bus home, you know that, instead of waiting three hours for you with boring Uncle Bill. Listening to him rabbiting on about absolutely nothing.'

  'You know the rules.'

  'Rules, rules, rules.' The girl stamped her foot. 'I’m sick of you and your rules. That’s all you’re about since we moved to this stink pit. Rules, rules, rules.'

  'What have you done to your hair?' Jill shouted, even louder, as if she had just noticed it. Then she looked at Smiler. 'And what are you doing with him?'

  By now Mike realised that the girl must be Jill’s older daughter. Yes, he thought, on first sight Smiler can be a bit of a shock, but it takes two to tango and she’s not going to vent her anger on him. Mike stepped forward. 'All right, Smiler?'

  Before Smiler could answer, Tiny growled. Taking his lead from Smiler, Mike pulled the dog to the far side of the rock.

  'You! If that dog attacks me…' Jill glared at Mike.

  'Calm down, and he won’t.' Mike stroked the back of Tiny’s ear and felt the dog's hackles begin to flatten. 'Good boy.' Handing the lead back to Smiler, he said, 'Head for Aunt May’s.'

  Nodding, Smiler jumped off the rock. 'OK.' He turned to the girl. 'See you.'

  'Sure,' she smiled. Rolling her eyes in the direction of her mother, she grimaced.

  'Get in the car.' The girl finally managed to pull her arm away and, glowering at her mother, stormed to the car. Getting in, she slammed the door behind her hard enough for the window to shake.

  'Got your hands full there,' Mike said. 'She, er... she looks a lot like you. Apart from the…' He moved his hand over his hair. 'You know.'

  'It’s none of your business.'

  Mike held his hands up in mock surrender. 'Sorry.'

  'Huh.' Turning, she got back in the car. Without giving them a second look, she drove off.

  'Wow, talk about getting burned.' Mike shook his head, got into his own car and followed her into the village. With a sinking feeling, he muttered, 'Jesus,' when she stopped in the street only four houses along from Aunt May’s.

  He watched as the girl got out of the car and ran to the house, followed by a younger girl. Then Jill got out and went round to the boot. She took a couple of carrier bags out, slammed the boot shut and, scowling, followed the girls into the house. Not once did she look up the street at him.

  He was brought out of his reverie, by Smiler tapping on the window. 'Gonna sit there a
ll night?'

  Shrugging, Mike got out of the car. 'I guess that’s her daughters?'

  'Yeah, of course. When she called her Mum, it was a dead giveaway, Detective.'

  'Very funny… What’s she like?'

  'Who, the daughter or the mum?'

  'Smiler,' Mike growled.

  Smiler shrugged. 'She’s nice. Apparently her hair was the same colour as her Mum’s when she left the house this morning. She says a few of her friends have dyed their hair this week. They’re talking about getting face studs now.'

  'Can’t see her mother liking that, can you?' Mike opened the door, and Smiler and Tiny followed him through the hallway and into the kitchen.

  Aunt May frowned at Tiny. She pointed to a blanket in the corner. 'Bed, now.'

  Tiny obeyed immediately, and was rewarded by finding a bone hidden in the blanket. Thumping his tail, he sat down, lay down, got up again and turned around a few times before finally settling down, watched by a still frowning Aunt May.

  Mike sat on a kitchen chair, stretched his legs out, and winked at Smiler as he sat down in the opposite chair.

  'Well,' Aunt May said, looking at them. 'I thought it best if he had something to chew on instead of the furniture.'

  'Tell the truth, Aunt May, you love him already.'

  'Hmm. That huge ugly beast? I don’t think so… Anyhow, I’m off down to see Sally-Anne, it's cards night. But I’ll probably pop in and see Jill for a mo first.'

  Mike’s ears pricked up. 'Would that be Jill Patterson, four doors down?'

  'Oh, I wondered when you would meet her.'

  'I met her today, actually. She’s the pathologist on the case I’m working on now.' He shrugged. 'She doesn’t like me very much, I’m afraid.'

  Aunt May tutted. 'Well, that’ll be a first. Met your match at last, eh? An actual bloody female who can resist your charms. Poor you…Anyhow, she’s a very nice lady. And she has her hands full with that oldest girl of hers.' Aunt May looked at him, one eyebrow raised as if daring him to say otherwise.