A Death at South Gare
Page 17
‘Of course,’ she said, advancing on me with a beaming smile.
‘You might have been killed,’ I said lamely. ‘And you went there for these damned pictures?’
‘I wanted them. James promised me them!’
‘And McCardle just abandoned these priceless Turners? Handed them over, just like that?’
‘Oh, I know!’ She shrugged ruefully. ‘You were probably right, and they’re not Turners. Otherwise my dear stepbrother wouldn’t have abandoned them. After all, he was prepared to have me killed to stop me claiming them. That’s why he had people looking for me. But I still wanted them anyway, even if they aren’t valuable, because they belonged to James.’
‘McCardle abandoned them? What happened? He just handed them over?’
‘McCardle wasn’t there. He’d cleared out, along with that Rogers guy.’
‘They’ve left?’
She nodded.
Then I took a step backwards. I had almost missed it. When things are unbelievable, it’s easy to do.
‘What did you just say?’ I said slowly. ‘Your stepbrother?’
‘Yes, that’s right.’
She thrust the picture she was holding into my hands and returned to the car for the others. The woman with the baseball cap stood on the far side of the car, silently observing this little tableau, not offering to help. I wondered who she was.
‘Nancy, you do realize what you’re saying?’ I demanded. ‘After all we’ve been through, you’re telling me now that Donovan McCardle is your stepbrother?’
‘He’s a lot older than me,’ she said with a shrug. ‘I never knew him at all.’
‘What about James?’ I asked faintly. ‘What was he?’
‘Another one,’ she said succinctly, holding the second fake Turner at arms’ length to admire.
‘Also your stepbrother?’
‘Yes. The two of them came with Mum when she married my dad. Then she had me.’
‘Quite a family!’
‘What?’ She glanced at me. ‘Oh, I see. Yes, James and Donovan hated one another.’
‘What about you?’
‘Simple, really. I loved James. He was a real brother to me, not just a half-brother. Donovan? I’d never even met him until recently.’
I was reeling by then. I put the picture I was holding down on the steps and swore at her. She seemed genuinely surprised, shocked even.
‘You don’t think I had a right to know this?’ I demanded.
‘What difference does it make?’ she asked, again genuinely surprised.
I just shook my head.
‘Anyway, who’s this?’ I asked, looking at the woman in the baseball cap.
‘She works there, at Sutton Castle. At least, she did. Her job’s gone now. But she kindly offered to run me here. Maybe she’ll get to keep the car. I don’t know.’
Nancy was too preoccupied with her bloody pictures to be interested in telling me any more. I shook my head again and pulled out my mobile to call Bill Peart.
‘News for you, Bill. McCardle and Rogers have pulled out. They’ve abandoned Sutton Castle.’
‘How do you know that?’ he asked suspiciously.
‘Trust me! They’ve gone. The place is wide open.’
‘Do you happen to know where they’ve gone, by any chance?’
‘Nope. But my guess would be an airport somewhere nearby, probably a private one. They need to put themselves out of reach quickly.’
The phone went dead. He didn’t even thank me for the tip-off.
‘There’s gratitude for you,’ I murmured.
But I was smiling. I wouldn’t want to be anywhere near Bill now he had this to deal with.
‘So what’s happening, Frank?’
For the first time, Nancy displayed interest in something other than her damned pictures.
‘PortPlus is finished,’ I told her. ‘Abu Dhabi have been frightened off by the negative publicity. They’ve pulled out. So McCardle’s takeover is dead in the water, and the police are on their way to arrest him for murder.’
She shrieked with delight.
I grinned and said, ‘So you are still interested?’
‘Oh, yes!’ she assured me. ‘That’s all I ever wanted.’
That and the bloody pictures, of course!
Although things had gone well that night in a strategic sense, I was feeling out of sorts. Bloody Nancy! I had known I couldn’t trust her. Of course I had. She had never actually lied to me, not that I knew of, but getting information out of her had always been like pulling teeth.
She had told me what she wanted me to know, not what I had wanted to know. All along, that had been true. I had been enlisted to help her bring down McCardle and avenge James. Her strategy had worked. But I resented the fact that we had never really been partners, not in the fullest sense. I felt used. It wasn’t a good feeling.
So I picked up my jacket and announced that I was heading for the beach. I needed to clear my head. Nancy nodded and returned to appreciating her pictures.
The driver fell in beside me as I passed through the gate. ‘Mind some company?’ she asked.
‘Not at all,’ I said without much interest. ‘I’m Frank Doy, by the way.’
‘Yes, I know.’
‘Thanks for giving Nancy a lift.’
‘You’re welcome.’
She was tall and slim, and nearly as tall as me. American, too, I realized. Probably came with Rogers.
‘So your job is over?’ I said as we walked towards the top of the path.
‘Not quite,’ she said.
Thankfully, she seemed as uninterested in conversation as I was. That suited me.
‘Frank!’ I heard Nancy call.
We were at the top of the path by then. I stopped and looked back.
‘Are you taking Sal with you?’
It took a moment, but the penny did drop.
Scarcely trusting my voice to perform, I said over my shoulder, ‘That’s you, presumably?’
The woman beside me nodded. ‘That’s me.’
‘Yes!’ I called to Nancy.
Then we resumed our walk, with me thinking fast. I wasn’t armed. I was certain Sal would be. Where would she make her move?
That was obvious. There was only one place it could be, and I was taking her right to it. All her dreams come true. Well, let it come. I was ready, thanks to Nancy.
My pulse was racing. My brain was scanning the options, and simultaneously watching for signals.
I considered moving first, and simply grabbing and overpowering her, but for all I knew the gun was already in her hand, her finger on the trigger. I needed to know. Until we got to the place, I had time to find out.
I paused to gaze out to sea. ‘So beautiful here,’ I murmured, ‘especially in the early morning.’
‘It is,’ she said.
She was fidgeting a bit, eager to get on with it. She didn’t like the pause.
I moved on a few paces, and stopped again. We were close to the spot now. An Olympic long-jumper could have made it in one bound from where we stood.
I moved close to her and tensed, ready to unleash when she made her move. But I still spoke to her calmly, in a relaxed way. Nothing had to show.
‘This path is very treacherous,’ I said, ‘especially when it’s wet. So keep close. I know where the problems are.’
I guessed her reflexes would be faster than mine. It went with her trade. If she saw anything she didn’t like, the gun would be out faster than I could stop it. I had to let her feel in charge, and wait my chance.
‘Wasn’t there an accident around here recently?’ she asked.
I nodded. ‘There was. A man fell from the path.’
‘Where from?’
‘Just over there,’ I said, pointing ahead a few paces.
She made her move.
Her gun arm started to lift from her side.
Because I was pointing past her, my own arm was already raised. I swept it down now, fast and
hard.
I grabbed her wrist and pointed the gun downwards. She turned and threw me over her hip, but I kept my grip on her wrist. Then we were on the ground, writhing at one another. Fingernails raked my face. I crashed an elbow into her face and head-butted her. The gun came loose. I kicked it aside, and over the edge.
Somehow she got loose and sprang to her feet. A knife appeared. She was bleeding heavily from the face. We faced each other.
‘Give it up!’ I panted. ‘You’re not going to win now.’
She snarled and sprang at me, the knife blade catching the early morning light. I jumped and kicked out with both feet, catching her heavily. She staggered backwards. I landed flat on my back, winded.
It was the same thing, the same as with her partner. When I got back up she was gone. Not quite from the same place, but near enough.
I glanced over the edge. For a moment I thought I saw something in the water, between two big rocks. But only for a moment. Then it was gone.
Justice for James, I thought grimly as I straightened up, catching my breath. Whichever of them had pulled the trigger, they had both gone the same way as him in the end.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
‘We got them,’ Bill said. ‘They were on a private jet at Teesside Airport, waiting to take off.’
‘You arrested them?’ Jac asked.
He nodded.
‘Well done!’
‘All in a day’s work,’ he said modestly.
‘Unfortunately,’ Nancy said, ‘they won’t get what they deserve, even if he is my stepbrother. Nothing will bring James back.’
‘Indeed,’ Jac said.
Bill looked grave.
I felt my house had become too crowded.
‘About those pictures?’ Jac said to Nancy.
‘Oh, yes! Let’s look at them again.’
They were big buddies now, those two. Jac had turned up later the day Sal fell to her death, looking for news of her new friend, Mike Rogers. She had taken the news in her stride, especially when she learned that Nancy had acquired the pictures.
Now the Grimshaw had their joint attention. It was the one painting Nancy wasn’t very keen on, and the only one of the three that interested Jac. It was also the only one worth anything. Maybe £200,000, according to Jac. Enough to allow Nancy to get her boat fixed and buy a proper house, and the commission in prospect was enough to make Jac’s eyes gleam. I left them to it.
I strolled over to the edge of the cliff to listen to the sea and the gulls. Jimmy Mack joined me after a few minutes. We stood together in silence. It was a relief.
‘A bad business,’ Jimmy said eventually, nodding towards the path to the beach.
‘Yep.’
‘I used to wonder how this place got its name.’
‘It must always have been risky here?’ I suggested.
‘Only for some,’ he said. ‘It’s suited me well enough.’
‘And me,’ I admitted, turning away and giving him a grin. ‘Don’t worry about me!’
We watched Bill Peart trudge across to join us.
‘Your women!’ he said to me, shaking his head.
‘My women?’
‘They were getting on so well together, too.’
‘What’s happened now?’
‘They can’t agree on the percentage rate Jac should get as commission on selling that bloody picture!’
‘They’re business people, you see,’ Jimmy Mack said philosophically. ‘It runs in both families.’
‘Women, eh?’ Bill said to me, almost sympathetically. ‘When will you learn?’
‘That’s what I keep asking him,’ Jimmy Mack said.
‘What can I tell you?’ I asked, grinning. ‘Maybe when I get to your age. . . .’
Later, Bill took me aside.
‘You did really well, Frank. You’ve achieved incredible things.’
He chuckled and added, ‘The politicians and my chief constable are queuing up to go on television and say how they always knew PortPlus were a bunch of crooks! Only yesterday they were singing from a different hymn sheet. It’s down to you, that.’
‘Not only me, Bill. I had a lot of help.’
‘You mostly, then,’ he amended.
‘Then there was this,’ he said, nodding to the path that led down to the beach. ‘You all right with this?’
‘I suppose so.’ I grimaced. ‘It was them or me at the time, Bill. If ever it gets to me, I’ll just remind myself what they did to James Campbell.’
He nodded with approval. ‘And that lot in there?’ he asked, gazing over my shoulder towards my house.
‘Perhaps you can take the pair of them back to Redcar for me?’
He laughed. ‘Too much for you, are they?’
‘Just a bit. I’m going to take Jimmy Mack’s advice when it comes to women.’
‘Oh? What’s that?’
‘Have nothing to do with them!’
I was relaxed about it all now. Just glad it was over. But I hadn’t told Bill everything I felt. I wasn’t much bothered by what had happened on the cliff-top path. That wouldn’t cause me sleepless nights. There was a kind of rough justice about that. It was the memory of James Campbell in the water off the end of the breakwater at the South Gare that I suspected would trouble me for a long time to come. Some things you could never have done anything about, but they are still the ones that come back to haunt you in the small hours.
By the same author
Never Look Back
Risky Mission
Out of the Night
Run for Home
© Dan Latus
First published in Great Britain 2015
ISBN 978 0 7198 1772 4 (epub)
ISBN 978 0 7198 1773 1 (mobi)
ISBN 978 0 7198 1774 8 (pdf)
ISBN 978 0 7198 1432 7 (print)
Robert Hale Limited
Clerkenwell House
Clerkenwell Green
London EC1R 0HT
www.halebooks.com
The right of Dan Latus to be identified as
author of this work has been asserted by him
in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and
Patents Act 1988
By the same author
Never Look Back
Risky Mission
Out of the Night
Run for Home
© Dan Latus
First published in Great Britain 2015
ISBN 978 0 7198 1772 4 (epub)
ISBN 978 0 7198 1773 1 (mobi)
ISBN 978 0 7198 1774 8 (pdf)
ISBN 978 0 7198 1432 7 (print)
Robert Hale Limited
Clerkenwell House
Clerkenwell Green
London EC1R 0HT
www.halebooks.com
The right of Dan Latus to be identified as
author of this work has been asserted by him
in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and
Patents Act 1988