Throwaways (Crime Files Book 2)

by Jenny Thomson

  Of all the thoughts that had been trampling through my mind, this wasn’t one of them. To say I was punch-drunk was an understatement.

  Tommy gave me a disappointed look. “I know it sounds farfetched. Like something out of an Andy McNab novel, but it’s the truth. Haven’t you noticed the mail that comes here isn’t in my real name?”

  What? I hadn’t paid much attention to his mail.

  “Why I never use the name Tommy McIntyre?” We always ordered pizza under my name. “I’ve got a new identity. For all intense and purpose, Tommy McIntyre is dead.”

  “But you gave me your real name. Why did you do that?”

  He reached over and used a finger to softly lift a stray hair from my face. This time I didn’t try to stop him. My anger had dissipated, replaced by sorrow at what Tommy and Eric had to give up.

  “As coy as this may sound,” he said, “when I saw you, I knew I couldn’t lie to you. You’d been hurt enough.”

  Kissing two of my fingers, I placed them on his lips. “That’s the sweetest thing anyone’s ever said to me. Don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me.”

  There was no doubt in my mind that he was telling the truth. But there was one more question I needed to ask. Something didn’t add up. “You said you were part of a four-man team. What happened to the guy who wasn’t a rat? Is he still alive?”

  Tommy grimaced. “Joey Boy never made it out of Baghdad alive. He was playing football with these kids. One had a suicide vest. It was remotely detonated as soon as the kid got near him.” A cloud came over Tommy’s features. “Don’t let anyone fool you into believing the Taliban are freedom fighters. They strap bombs to kids, for Christ sake.”

  Reaching over, I placed one of my hands on top of his. “Shit, I’m sorry, Tommy. I didn’t know.” And I genuinely was sorry even although there was no way I could have known.

  “Well, now you do.”

  There was no reproach in his voice. He spoke as though he was stating a fact.

  “Tommy, what happened to the guy who betrayed you? Did you get him?”

  Tommy’s lips curled into a sneer. “Aye, we got the motherfucker, me and Eric, and we drilled two bullets into his skull.”

  “Good,” I said, and I damn well meant it. The traitor deserved all he got.

  Exhausted by our showdown and feeling that we needed some breathing space, I told Tommy I was going to stay at my place tonight, but he was having none of it.

  “It’s out in the open now, so let’s not make a big deal out of it or have you start acting weird on me.”

  “Okay.” I was relieved. After what he’d told me, I didn’t want him to be alone.

  Tommy put a hand on my arm. “And, Nancy, promise me one thing.” His face was serious.

  “What?” I asked, dreading what he was going to say.

  “If anyone comes for me, leave it be. Don’t try to find me. If you do, they’ll kill you.”

  My head was birling. “What do you mean come for you? Who’s coming for you?” I probed his eyes for an answer, but I already knew. Men working for the man he was supposed to kill. “Surely they wouldn’t do that? Not on British soil?”

  Tommy’s face gave me my answer. “Nancy, those people don’t care about borders or international law. They’ll trample over everything and anyone to get what they want. They won’t care if that means killing you.”

  Now I was scared. This was an enemy that even with my training I wasn’t equipped to deal with. So when Tommy pleaded with me yet again not to do anything if they came for him, I agreed. But I was lying.

  He’d saved me and come hell or high water, I’d do all I could to save him or die trying.

  Chapter 20

  “Kim’s been spotted.”

  Tommy peered up from his crossword and gave me a so-what glance before going back to his paper.

  “Didn’t you hear me?”

  For four long nights, I’d been out here, freezing my barely covered backside off as I waited for Kim to resurface, and now she had, Tommy was acting as if it was no big deal. He’d feel differently if he was the one tottering about in high heels, wearing fishnets and a leather miniskirt, with enough makeup plastered on to be in The Rocky Horror Show.

  “Aye, I heard you, but you know what that girl’s like. It’s as though she’s got a sixth sense about us wanting to talk to her.”

  Two nights ago, we’d missed her by about sixty seconds. She’d climbed into a red BMW that sped off. There was no time to get the license plate.

  Although Tommy was right about Kim being elusive, this time was different.

  “I was talking to Mandy. You know, the older girl with the greasy hair, the nose and lip ring, and Cleopatra makeup?”

  Tommy made uh-huh noises. Quite a few of the girls looked like that.

  “She says Kim owes her money and she’s meeting her in Takeaway Alley at eleven o’clock.”

  Takeaway Alley was the name given to the most rubbish-strewn alley in Glasgow. It was always covered in takeaway boxes, polystyrene cups and plates, and decaying food. Most people avoided it because of the stench of moldy fast food and the fat rats that feasted on the remnants. This made it the ideal place to meet away from prying eyes.

  Tommy put his pen down. Finally I’d got his attention. “Good. Hopefully she can help us.”

  Kim was the only person we knew of who’d escaped the clutches of the creep who took Sheena and Suzy. She had to know something.

  By ten to eleven we were in position. Whilst Tommy parked at one end of the alley, Eric blocked off the other as I stood in a doorway that reeked of urine and stale fried food waiting for Kim to show. I’d paid Mandy off, telling her I needed to talk to Kim because we’d done a job together and Kim had run off with my share. All it took was thirty quid to get her to let me go in her place.

  I’d dialed Tommy’s number and put him on speaker so he could hear everything. The last thing we needed was Kim to spot us and bolt. If she ran, we’d probably never see her again.

  Two minutes past eleven, Tommy told me a woman was heading my way. Bracing myself, I stepped out of the shadows and came face-to-face with a living doll.

  “Who are you?” The speaker scrunched up her face as she glared at me through blue beads for eyes. Even in her heels, she was a few inches shorter than me and had cropped orange-blonde hair. Her accent was Eastern European.

  “I’m Nancy,” I said, keeping an even tone despite her icy stare. “Mandy can’t make it, but I have your cash and a wee bit extra. I just want to talk to you. It’ll just take a few minutes of your time.”

  I held out a wad of notes.

  Kim scowled at me, but before I could say any more, she stuck out a dainty hand and snatched the money. Then she turned on her heel.

  “Hey,” I shouted.

  That’s when Tommy appeared at her back. He’d been so quiet, I hadn’t heard his approach. She almost walked into him. She yelped and took a few steps to the side as though she thought that’s all it’d take to avoid us.

  Realizing she was cornered, she took off one of her heels and wielded it in one hand like a club.

  “It’s okay,” I said, gently holding out my hands to show I wasn’t carrying anything. “He’s a friend of mine. We don’t want to hurt you. We just want to talk.”

  She didn’t look convinced.

  “We’ll pay you for your time.”

  Tommy handed me more money and I started to count. Her eyes were trained on the cash; her initial trepidation had gone now the greed had kicked in.

  Her shoulders slumped. “Okay.” Despite being happy to take our money she made it sound like she was doing us a favor.

  “Three weeks ago, you did a job. You and another girl called Sheena.” No reaction, so I carried on talking. “She hasn’t been seen since. We want to find out what happened to her. Her and the other missing girls.”

  Kim’s features were blank. So this was how she was going to play it.

  Tommy stepped forward with a big grin
on his face. “Ditch the accent, Kim. It’s not very good. Where are you from in Glasgow?”

  A faint smile crossed her elfin features. “How did you know?” Her voice was pure Glaswegian, her face tough rather than doll-like.

  How had Tommy known?

  He could see the question in my eyes. “I’ve been around enough Eastern Europeans to know when I’m being had.”

  “Okay, smartarse,” Kim said. “I’ll answer your questions. But only if you do something for me first. I owe this guy money. Not a nice guy. I owe him two hundred quid, but if I give it to him myself, he’ll beat seven shades of shit out of me.” She paused and then said, “If I had the cash to give him.”

  “Is he your drug dealer?” Tommy said.

  Like him, I’d seen the track marks on her hands when she’d grabbed the money.

  Kim tapped her nose. “None of your business, pal.” She paused to look at me. “Do this for me and I’ll tell you everything I know.”

  “If we do this, how do we know you won’t just disappear?” I said. “We’ll be almost three hundred quid out of pocket and without the answers we need.”

  “We,” she said, her eyes lingering on Tommy. “Lucky bitch. Wouldn’t mind giving the hunk a test drive, and I wouldn’t even charge for the privilege.”

  She spoke about Tommy like he wasn’t even there. It was difficult to be certain in the dull light, but I thought I saw Tommy’s face flush.

  Kim removed a ring from one of her fingers. “This belonged to my baby sister. She’s all grown up now.” She held out the gold band with a little horseshoe engraved in a black stone. “Take it. It’s the only thing I have of value left. The only thing that means anything to me. After you pay this guy off, come and find me here tomorrow night and I’ll answer your questions. All of them.”

  Tommy and I exchanged glances. We hadn’t expected this kind of boulder in the road. But there was no way around it. She was the only one who could help us. And she’d be putting her life on the line if she did speak to us. If the kidnapper found out she’d talked, he might come back to shut her up.

  “Okay,” I said, “give us the details.”

  Her lips curled into a grin.

  Giving her the full focus of my attention, I said, “You better not be messing with us.”

  Chapter 21

  The name Kim gave us was Francis Colquhoun, a perfectly normal name for a guy who was anything but normal.

  Normal folk don’t try to throw you out of a window after trying to strangle you first, and when you managed to cling on to the window ledge by your fingertips, they don’t use a hammer to try and break your fingers so you’ll plummet to your death.

  Normal people don’t grind cigarettes into a woman’s face because she owes them money or threaten to burn their house down with their children inside.

  Nor do they use drills on people’s skulls to get them to reveal their PIN numbers.

  Yes, our Francis was quite the man for creative inducement.

  We didn’t need to ask Tommy’s contact for these background details. We got the lowdown on Colquhoun when we entered his name into a search engine and added “Glasgow court.” Just a hunch. Somebody that scared a tough nut like Kim had to be a complete psycho. Because he’d be expecting a woman I’d have to hand over the cash, but Tommy and Eric would be close by and my trusty Taser was in my shoulder bag. I was eager to use it on the weasel.

  Francis Colquhoun had a face that could have been molded out of clay by a five-year-old trying to make a monster. His mouth was twisted in a sneer and he’d bug eyes.

  “Okay, doll,” Colquhoun said when I met him in a street near the old Anderston Bus Station, telling him that Kim had sent me, “hand it over.”

  He took the cash I held out with a grubby paw, then made an elaborate play of counting it. “That’s no enough,” he said, eyeing me with disdain. “Skanky bitch has sent you here short.”

  Kim warned us he’d pull that one.

  Keeping my voice level and giving him my best fuck-you stare, I said, “No, it’s all there. Every penny she owes.” Then I turned to leave.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Colquhoun curl a greasy paw into a fist, and I managed to dodge out the way before he smacked me one. The idiot had telegraphed it.

  “If I say we’re no finished, we’re no finished. Get on your knees now, bitch. We can come to some arrangement. Go on, help your pal out or I’ll give both of you a wee skelp.”

  He grabbed me by the shoulder and spun me round. His fingers dug into my arm, and it bloody well hurt. He was really starting to piss me off.

  Tommy appeared just in time to see me swing my head wildly at Colquhoun. My skull connected with his nose, and there was an almighty crack. Blood spurted out, showering the gutter in bloody jam.

  “Fuck, fuck. You broke ma nose.”

  “Aye,” I hissed, “and I’ll cut it off with a rusty blade and feed it to some dogs if I ever hear you’ve hurt another woman again.”

  Even in his disorientated state, he spotted Tommy. He pointed at him with one angry hand whilst he used the other to hold his busted nose. The effect was almost comical. “You seen that, you seen that. You’re a witness. Call the cops. She’s a psycho.”

  Tommy winked at him. “Quit complaining. Could have been worse. She could have used her Taser on you.”

  Tommy was chuckling as we left Colquhoun in the alleyway muttering away about compensation and headed back to the car. But I knew Eric wouldn’t be happy with me. All that training and I’d still resorted to my signature move that he called “street fighting.” But screw that. What did it matter how I survived as long as I survived?

  I turned to Tommy. “If Kim doesn’t cooperate, I’m sticking the head on her too.”

  Tommy laughed. “Mind me not to get on the wrong side of you, Nancy.”

  Chapter 22

  The following afternoon, we turned up for our meeting with Kim. She’d wanted to meet in a public place, so we met in the food court in the shopping mall. This time she was early and her hair was jet-black. Her makeup was more muted, and instead of a short skirt and halter top, she was wearing a dark blue pullover, jeans, and boots. Under the bright strip lighting, she looked sickly and painfully thin.

  A faint smile crossed her lips when I dropped her ring into her palm.

  “Okay, we did what you asked,” I said. “Time for you to hold up your part of the bargain.”

  Kim slurped her milkshake as we sat there waiting for her to speak. When she’d finished, she addressed me. “How did it go with creepy Colquhoun? Bet he told you I owed him more cash. That guy is as untrustworthy as they come.”

  “He did,” I said. “He wanted payment in kind.”

  Kim scrunched up her face. With her intricate facial features, she resembled an angry china doll. “Thought he might pull that one. The guy’s a freak.” She paused to eye Tommy greedily. “I take it you took the hunk of muscle along and he dealt with the scumbag?”

  “Nah,” I said with a triumphant grin, “I broke the bastard’s nose. He was blubbing away when I left him.”

  Kim’s smile brightened up her whole face. “I’d have loved to have seen that. You go, girl.” To my surprise, she gave me a high five.

  “Thanks. I enjoyed it.” And I had, especially when I saw the look of incredulity on his chops.

  But I couldn’t help thinking about the women who were too scared to fight him and what he did to them.

  Still smiling, Kim said, “How did he look after you did it?”

  “As mad as hell. He was going about holding his nose and saying he was gonna sue me. He thought Tommy here would be his witness.”

  She clapped her hands, and the two women at the next table glared at her. She glared back, and they swiftly averted their gaze. “That’s brilliant. Wish I’d seen it.”

  Tommy cut in. “Now, if we’re done with the mutual appreciation club, ladies, can we get back to business?”

  Kim and I raised our eyebrows. “Har
k at him,” I said. “he’s all business.”

  “Okay,” Kim said after she’d used her finger to pick out the remnants of her milkshake from the bottom of the cup. I’d noticed that she didn’t order anything to eat. She must be at the stage drug addicts get to where they can only digest liquid food. “You want to know what happened that night? I’ll tell you. But what I say is between us and only us.” She stuck out a finger. “If you go to the cops, I’ll deny I told you anything.”

  “We won’t go to the police,” I said. “They’ve hardly done a bang-up job of investigating so far. Whatever you tell us stays with us.”

  Tommy nodded his agreement.

  Kim’s face relaxed. “Fair enough.” She took the ring off her finger and started fiddling about with it, a classic delaying tactic. “He was waiting for me in a car across from George Square. He looked normal, shy even. Sheena was in the front seat. I’d told her to wait for me before getting in, but she hadn’t listened. She wasn’t as streetwise as me.” She paused to inspect her fingernails. They were chewed down to the quick.

  “She was giggling away and drinking from a glass. She told me it was champagne. That her friend Mike—that was the name he’d used with her—was celebrating his birthday and that I should have some too. He poured out a glass for me.”

  In my mind’s eye, I could picture the scene. Sheena bubbly and giggling away because she’d been nervous and the alcohol relaxed her. No doubt her good mood was heightened by seeing the face of a friend; safety in numbers and all that. Except she wasn’t safe.

  “Did you drink from the glass?” I was eager to know whether the booze was drugged. That’d explain how the doctor managed to abduct them. Who’d turn down an innocent glass of bubbly from a man who was going to pay them a lot of money? If you did, he might view it as a slight and toss your ass out of his car and there’d go your big payday.

  Kim shook her head. “I never drink on a job. Now, if he’d offered me some coke, that’d be different.”