by Jaime Raven
Tiny was silent for a few moments, then said, ‘I see where you’re coming from, Lizzie, but you both need to be careful. What you’re planning to do is bloody dangerous. A thousand things could go wrong.’
‘I know that,’ I said. ‘But the alternatives are just as shitty. Hand myself in or go on the run. Either way I’m fucked.’
It wasn’t until after I’d hung up on Tiny that I realised I’d drawn him into my mess as well. When the police eventually checked my phone the calls made on it would reveal that I’d been in contact with him.
It was another factor that added to my burden of guilt and made me feel like such a bad person.
20
All the information Scar had collected for me while I was still in prison had been kept in a file on her phone. So she was able to retrieve Joe Strickland’s address as we drove away from the deserted industrial estate.
He lived in an upmarket area of Southampton known as Chilworth, where some of the city’s most expensive houses were located.
The tension inside the car positively crackled as we drove there. I tried to keep calm, telling myself that we hadn’t set ourselves an impossible task. It was achievable. We just had to be positive and hold our nerve. But that didn’t stop my stomach from fluttering or my head from aching.
The roads were much less busy now, and that increased our sense of unease. We passed two police cars and I fully expected the second one to pull us over. Instead, it flew by with its blue light flashing and sped in the direction of Ruby’s house.
A constant soul-destroying drizzle accompanied us across the city. We talked about what we were going to do when we got to Strickland’s place. But, of course, we couldn’t be sure how things would unfold until we arrived. We’d have to play it by ear because we didn’t know if he’d be alone.
His wife was probably with him and we felt sure we could handle her. But it would be more of an issue if he had a couple of minders on the premises for protection.
We were five minutes from Chilworth when my phone rang, and it made us both jump. I took it out of my pocket, but didn’t recognise the number that appeared in the display window.
‘Should I answer it?’ I said. ‘It isn’t Tiny.’
Scar raised her brow. ‘Then it could be the filth.’
‘Shit.’
‘Answer it anyway,’ she said. ‘If it is them we’ll at least find out if they’re already looking for you.’
I tapped the green key and my breath hitched in my throat when I heard DS McGrath’s voice.
‘Is that you, Lizzie?’
‘Who is this?’ I said.
‘You know who it is, Lizzie. Where are you?’
‘It’s the middle of the night, for Christ’s sake. What do you want?’
He pushed out a sigh. ‘Don’t play games, Lizzie. For your sake. Now tell me where you are so that we can come and talk to you.’
I felt the blood start pumping in my head and a cold sweat form on my brow. Scar reached out, put her hand on my knee, squeezed it.
‘Why do you want to talk to me?’ I said into the phone.
McGrath paused for a long beat and took a breath. ‘A woman seen running away from Ruby Gillespie’s house matches your description, Lizzie. We’ve also checked Ruby’s phone so we know you went to the house, and we know what you did.’
‘I didn’t do it,’ I said. ‘She was dead when I got there.’
‘So why didn’t you explain that to the officers when they arrived?’
‘It was another stitch-up,’ I said. ‘That’s why the police went to the house just after I got there.’
‘They were responding to a call,’ McGrath said. ‘Someone phoned in to report hearing screams in the house.’
‘Well, whoever that was killed her,’ I said. ‘When I got there I was hit over the head and knocked unconscious. When I came to I had blood on me and you’ll probably find my prints on the knife. But I didn’t put them there.’
‘Then you’ve got nothing to worry about have you? Let us bring you in, and you can tell us exactly what happened.’
‘I don’t think so,’ I said. ‘You’ve already made up your minds that I did it. Just like the last time.’
‘That’s not true, Lizzie. I’ll make sure you’re treated fairly.’
‘Don’t make me laugh,’ I said. ‘You’ll do whatever Ash tells you to do and he’ll take great pleasure in fucking me over.’
‘But you can’t just run away from this. You’ve got nowhere to go.’
‘I’m already miles away from Southampton,’ I said. ‘And I know exactly where I’m going. It’s somewhere you’ll never find me.’
‘You’re making a big mistake. The further you run the guiltier you’ll look.’
‘But if I come back I know I’ll never see the light of day again.’
‘You can’t be sure of that.’
‘I can and you know it. I’ve been set up good and proper. Whoever is responsible has done a fantastic job. I’ve lost and they’ve won, and I hope they rot in fucking hell.’
I abruptly ended the call and switched off the phone so the signal couldn’t be traced.
‘How did I do?’ I said to Scar.
She gave a thoughtful nod. ‘You sounded really convincing. He probably thinks you’re halfway up the M3 by now.’
Strickland’s large detached house was set back from the road and surrounded by high, manicured hedges.
Scar pulled into the kerb across from it between two parked cars.
The street was wide and poorly lit, with neatly spaced trees and crew-cut verges.
She switched off the engine and in the silence that consumed us I could hear the nervous rhythm of her heartbeat.
‘So how do we go about this?’ I said.
There was no gate, just an opening between two brick pillars. Beyond it a short driveway led up to a two-storey Tudor-style property. A flashy BMW was parked in front of the garage.
Several lights were on inside, which was surprising considering it was past one in the morning.
‘I suggest we walk straight up to the front door and ring the bell,’ Scar said. ‘When someone answers we barge right in and get down to business.’
I felt a strange dose of excitement because I knew I had nothing to lose. The prospect of getting my hands on Joe Strickland was a real incentive to take this diabolical risk.
I was psyching myself up with mindful images of Leo, Rufus Benedict and Ruby Gillespie.
We made sure the coast was clear before we got out of the car. The street was empty and the light drizzle persisted. I was pretty confident that no one saw us cross the road. Once we entered Strickland’s property, we moved off the gravel driveway onto the wet grass and stepped up behind a large rhododendron bush. From there we were able to scan the front of the house. Two rooms downstairs had lights on and one upstairs. Curtains were pulled across the upstairs window, but those downstairs we could see inside.
To the left was the kitchen, and it appeared to be empty. The other window was much larger and gave us a view of the living room. We could see a figure inside moving around.
The rain made it impossible for us to see if it was a man or a woman, so we had to creep around the bush and move closer to the house.
Crouching low, we then stepped onto the driveway and sidled up against the BMW. From there we were able to see across the bonnet into the living room where it was clear that the figure was Joe Strickland and he was pacing the floor with a phone to his ear.
‘I don’t see anyone else,’ Scar said, wiping a film of rain from her face. ‘I’m guessing the wife is in bed, and there are no minders.’
‘Then let’s get moving,’ I said.
But just as I took a step towards the front door, Scar grabbed my hand and jerked me back behind the BMW.
‘Get down,’ she gasped, and if I’d hesitated for even a fraction of a second I would have been caught in the glare of a pair of powerful headlights.
They belonged to a
car that turned off the road onto the driveway. Its brakes squealed as it came to a stop a few feet from where we were crouching down behind the BMW.
The lights were extinguished, and we heard the car door open and then shut again.
Footfalls sounded on the gravel, and I couldn’t resist raising myself far enough to see who was approaching the house.
But I caught only a blurred glimpse of a man’s back before he disappeared inside the covered porch. He didn’t have to ring the bell because the front door opened straight away, and he disappeared inside. A few seconds later, however, the visitor appeared as large as life in the living room. When I saw who it was my mind filled with red mist.
‘You bent bastard,’ I cursed aloud.
‘I take it you know him,’ Scar said.
‘Damn bloody right I do,’ I told her. ‘That’s my old friend Detective Chief Inspector Martin Ash.’
I saw Ash’s appearance as proof that he was part of the whole ugly conspiracy.
He was Strickland’s man on the inside, a corrupt copper who was without scruples. A man prepared to turn a blind eye to the most heinous of crimes.
It explained why I’d been so easily fitted up over Rufus Benedict’s murder. Ash and Neil Ferris – as the lead officers on the case – had been in a position to manipulate the evidence and I was certain now that they did.
Why else was Strickland’s involvement so readily dismissed despite him having had a motive for wanting Benedict silenced? And was it possible they had concealed or doctored vital security video that might have shown the two killers entering the hotel?
Now I wondered if Ash had also played a part in Ruby Gillespie’s murder. Had he known it was going to happen? Maybe he had even suggested it as a way to solve two problems in one go: me and the woman who had decided to reveal a secret she’d kept for four years.
‘We can’t go in now,’ Scar said, breaking into my thoughts. ‘We should go back to the car.’
‘He might not stay for long.’
‘Or he could be here for ages, Lizzie. And I’m already soaked through.’
I turned to look at her. Unlike me she wasn’t wearing a jacket, and her black T-shirt was plastered to her skin.
‘You’re right,’ I said. ‘I’m sorry. Let’s go.’
We kept close to the hedge as we made our way back to the entrance. Seconds later we were seated in the car, and our wet clothes were causing the windows to steam up.
Scar put the heating on and we sat in silence for a few minutes. I had to blink back tears of rage and frustration that started to gather in my eyes.
‘That was a close call,’ Scar said, her voice barely raised above the sound of the rain on the windscreen. ‘He must have come here to tell Strickland you’re on the run.’
‘Ash probably wants to make sure that all the angles have been covered,’ I said. ‘If I’m not in custody then things can still go wrong for them. If I had a gun I’d march in there now and confront them both. I’d soon get a confession out of them.’
‘It’s tempting, I know,’ Scar replied. ‘But without a gun or an army we’re no match for them.’
I clenched my jaw and pushed my teeth together so tight it hurt. Nothing felt real to me any more. It was as though everything that was happening was part of a relentless nightmare.
I asked Scar for a cigarette and as she was reaching for her bag her phone rang. She checked it and said, ‘It’s Tiny.’
I stopped breathing while I waited for her to tell me what he had to say.
With the phone still to her ear, she said, ‘He went to the Centurion bar and arrived just as Sean Delaney was leaving in his car. Tiny followed him home.’
‘Where does Delaney live?’ I asked.
‘On a houseboat on the river at Bursledon,’ she said. ‘A secluded spot, apparently. Tiny’s still there watching the place and wants to know what to do.’
‘Get him to give you directions,’ I said excitedly. ‘It’s too good a chance to miss. We’ll go straight there and come back here later.’
21
The River Hamble runs along the eastern edge of Southampton and is famous for its marinas and boat yards. One of its lesser known features is a small community of houseboats along several tiny inlets. The boats are set back from the main river and surrounded by marsh and woodland.
I recalled seeing a news item about them on the local TV years ago when one of them was put up for sale for hundreds of thousands of pounds.
The spot was easy to get to. We took the main road out of the city and drove through the village of Bursledon, then followed a narrow lane over railway tracks to a small, deserted yard. From this spot a jetty zig zagged out across the marshland to where between eight and ten houseboats were moored.
Tiny was waiting for us in the unlit parking area. He seemed relieved to see us, but it was Scar he went to first, putting his arm around her shoulders and kissing her on the forehead.
‘What happened at Strickland’s house?’ he asked.
‘Detective Ash turned up while we were skulking in the front garden,’ I said. ‘So we had to retreat.’
‘I really feel for you, Lizzie,’ Tiny said. ‘It must have been a terrible shock to find Ruby Gillespie like that.’
‘It was,’ I said. ‘And I’m hoping that Sean Delaney will be just as shocked when we pay him a surprise visit.’
Tiny pointed to one of several other cars parked close by and said it belonged to Delaney.
‘He came straight here from the Centurion. He left there with his cousin Ron Parks, who drove off in a different direction.’
‘It could be that one or both of them went to have a drink and secure an alibi after leaving Ruby’s house. Is Delaney alone now?’
Tiny nodded. ‘I think so. I couldn’t follow him all the way along the jetty, but from where I stood it looked as though he unlocked the cabin door once he was on board, and there were no lights on inside.’
‘Well, show us which houseboat is his and you can leave us to it.’
‘Are you kidding me?’ he said. ‘I’m coming with you.’
I shook my head. ‘No, Tiny. I don’t want you to get more involved than you already are.’
‘And neither do I,’ Scar said. ‘It wouldn’t be fair.’
‘Forget it, ladies. No way am I letting you confront this guy by yourselves. He’s a dangerous head case.’
Scar and I exchanged looks and she gave a barely perceptible nod.
‘I suppose I would feel safer if he was with us,’ she said.
I allowed the faintest of smiles to flick across my face, then patted Tiny’s arm and felt a surge of gratitude flood through me.
‘Okay, big boy,’ I said. ‘Welcome to the team.’
We followed Tiny through some trees to where the jetty began. Luckily there was a break in the cloud cover, and the moon’s milky glow shone above the river and the winding creeks that led into it.
It took me a few seconds to pick out the dark shapes of the various houseboats. They looked like giant slugs resting in the mud. There were no lights on any of them.
‘It’s that one over there,’ Tiny said, pointing.
It was over to the right at the edge of the inlet and separated from the others by about fifty yards. A prime position that must have commanded terrific views during the day.
The rain had eased to a light spray in the breeze, and the air was thick with the smell of the sea.
We walked along the jetty as quietly as possible, and when we got to Delaney’s houseboat, the three of us stopped and listened for any sounds from inside. But all was quiet.
‘I propose we just storm on board like it’s a police raid and surprise him,’ Tiny said. ‘If we try the softy-softly approach he might hear us if he’s not yet asleep.’
Instinctively, I reached out and held Scar’s hand. It was warm and clammy.
‘Are you sure you’re up for this?’ I said.
‘Of course I am. Now let’s just get on with it.’
The speed with which Tiny jumped on board took us by surprise. We were still clambering up after him when he kicked open the cabin door. A second later he was inside and there was a lot of noise and cursing.
By the time I followed him in he had Delaney pinned to the floor in the main living area. We learned later that Delaney had leapt out of bed on hearing a noise outside, but hadn’t been quick enough to get the better of his unwelcome visitor.
When I switched on the light, Delaney was face down, and Tiny was sitting astride him. Delaney was naked and muscles bulged along every part of his body.
A chair had been knocked over along with a glass vase that had shattered into pieces.
‘Who the fuck are you?’ Delaney was yelling. ‘What do you want?’
Tiny put a hand against the back of his head and pushed his face into the carpet.
‘Keep quiet and still or I’ll break both your arms,’ he warned him.
Scar and I walked further into the cabin and looked around. It was an open-plan set-up with a sofa and armchair at one end and a kitchen with a dining table at the other.
‘We need to find something we can use to tie his hands,’ Scar said.
We found a ball of string in one of the kitchen drawers. I used a carving knife to cut off a length that Tiny wrapped around Delaney’s wrists.
Tiny then hauled him up and pushed him into one of the chairs. He started to struggle, but Tiny whipped an arm around his neck and squeezed, causing Delaney to choke and splutter.
‘You’re going nowhere, creep, so behave yourself,’ Tiny said.
When he was still, Tiny let go of his neck, and Delaney sucked in a couple of ragged breaths, his face flushed red.
He suddenly didn’t look so tough and threatening with his small, flaccid penis hanging between his thighs. My eyes zoomed in on the pit bull tattoo on his chest and it brought back the painful memory of what he’d done to me in the alley.
Having neutralised our victim, all three of us stepped in front of him and I aimed the knife at his face.