He was going to agree but he made Coyler wait for his answer anyway. Tommy believed in the Reginald Perrin School of Management. ‘Five, six, seven, eight, always pays to make them wait...’ Finally he broke the silence, with a grudging. “A’right then”. He hated anyone but himself having a good idea.
“Leave Gerdy – he’ll sort Murray out by himsel’. You go an’ find McCrae an’ help him with the lezzy nurse. But mind you an’ call me back every three hours like I said. An’ just fally her. I’ll tell you when to bring her to me. Now piss off, I’m on important work here wi’ Murdock.”
He slapped the phone shut angrily. He didn’t like his plans going wrong, or other people making suggestions. He’d just sat back again and was nodding off, when his driver’s window was rapped abruptly, jerking him out of his doze. He turned his head, ready with a mouthful of abuse, to be greeted by the smile of a plump young police officer. He motioned for Tommy to wind down the window.
“Good evening, Mr Hill. Now...I wonder if you could answer me one little question.”
“What do you want, for fucks sake? I was half asleep.”
“Well now, here’s the thing. Exactly why were you sitting outside Mr Murdock’s Owenville Park home twenty minutes ago? And just why are you sitting here now?”
“I don’t know what you mean. Where’s Owenville?”
“Now, now – don’t be telling porkies, Mr Hill. We were keeping an eye out anyway, but BT9 residents notice cars more than five years old, unless they’re vintage. We had a wee call from a concerned neighbour and followed you here. You’re not very good at this subterfuge lark, are you?”
“It’s not against the law to sit in a public place, is it?”
“No...No, indeed it’s not. That is, not unless you’re keeping an eye on someone that you’ve recently assaulted and threatened. And very publicly as well. So let’s just go to the station and have a wee chat.” He gestured towards a second officer in the patrol car. “You come with me, and Alastair here will drive your car.”
Tommy thought about arguing, but he knew the drill. The sooner he got it over with, the sooner he’d be back on the street to get Murdock. He shrugged and handed over his keys. There would be time for Nigel Murdock later. He was stuck in Belfast all weekend.
***
The Visitor watched them furiously in the darkness, rage gathering in his chest. The father was incompetent. He wouldn’t expose the guilty, and he wouldn’t make them listen. All he sought was his own small revenge. Disappointment welled up in the Visitor’s throat and he roared wordlessly in the public place.
This couldn’t happen, it couldn’t be allowed. If they couldn’t be exposed then they must all be punished. The father and police had had their chance, now he would do what was necessary. He smiled coldly and a frisson of excitement ran through him. It was his turn at last.
His hand drove deep into his pocket, his finger running along the smooth razored steel of a scalpel. Back and forth, back and forth, lingering at its wire-thin edge. He pressed down desperately until his own skin broke, and warm, sharp blood flowed in release. Then he sighed, savouring the thought of the other cuts to come. It would start soon. The pushing down, slicing through soft flesh to firm muscle, all yielding to the blade’s sharp edge.
His excitement built and heat rose between his thighs. He let it grow - the time for restraint had gone. The father had had his chance and he had failed. Now there would be pleasure in the work and he welcomed it. He would have the pleasure of killing them all.
Chapter Nineteen
Craig and Julia were at Mumbai 27, one of Belfast’s premier Indian restaurants. Craig was trying to have a life and make up for ignoring her all week, but he had too much on his mind and was failing badly. He knew that she had something to talk about and he was bad at deep discussions when he had a case on. His father’s illness wasn’t helping. Julia was stunning, bright and nice, but he was still relieved when his phone rang. The conversation had dried up after the Halim, and he welcomed any diversion.
Apologising with a smile, he went outside, staring down Talbot Street as he took the call. “D.C.I. Craig, Can I help you?”
“Sorry to bother you, sir, but it’s Sergeant Maguire at Stranmillis Road station. I just thought you’d like to know we have a Tommy Hill here. We found him tailing a Mr Nigel Murdock and it flagged-up as your case. What would you like us to do with him?”
Craig sighed at the inevitability of it. “Thanks Sergeant, I’ll come up now.”
“As you like, sir. But I’m sure you shouldn’t disturb your evening just for this. We can hold him a while until we get your cover officer.”
“No, it’s fine, Sergeant. It’s a major case so I’ll come. Give me twenty minutes.”
The phone clicked off and Craig felt immediately guilty. He wanted to see Tommy before he did something stupid, but knew that the diversion served two purposes. He ignored his guilt quickly. If he was thinking about the case Julia would get no sense out of him tonight anyway. He’d drop her home and they could talk tomorrow.
***
Tommy waited patiently in the cell. He’d done it loads of times and it didn’t take a fizz out of him now. When he was a young rip he’d have been sweating and smoking. But these days he just closed his eyes and dozed. Getting older had its pluses.
The cell door opened noisily and the saturnine custody sergeant walked in. “C’mon Mr Hill, let’s go.” He led him down a long corridor and then up two flights of stairs, then down another corridor. Until they finally reached a large interview room, where he did some more waiting.
Tommy wondered where they found the space for all the corridors. The station didn’t look that big from the road, wedged-in between a wine-bar and a takeaway. He laughed to himself. It must be like the Tardis - a real police-box.
But he knew they’d moved him for a reason. Craig must be coming. Or that big ghost Cullen. Batman and Robin. Wallace and Gromit more like.
He gazed around him, bored. All interview rooms looked the same. They must’ve had the same crap painter too, judging by the drips they all had on the floor. He played with his lighter, clicking it against the top of the table in a rhythm, until he’d even managed to annoy himself.
Craig stood at his vantage point behind the mirror and watched him, hidden from view. Tommy already knew that someone was there, someone always was. Craig couldn’t make up his mind whether to pity Hill or despise him. Pity him for Evie, or despise him for the drug dealing and the lives that he’d wrecked. He decided on a bit of both. Karma. What goes around, comes around, Tommy.
He hadn’t actually touched Murdock, so all they could do was warn him off. Unless...until...a crime was committed. Real life policing wasn’t like ‘Minority Report’. You couldn’t lock them up in advance because you knew what would happen. Pity. Then he realised he was thinking like Liam and shook himself hard.
After another minute watching Craig entered the room and sat across from the older man. He leaned back in his chair with his hands in his pockets and they stared at each other silently for a moment. Until Tommy blinked first, yawning noisily to cover it.
“Ach, just get the fuckin’ lecture over with, would you. I’ve a home to go to the night, even if you like sleepin’ here.” He laughed loudly at his own wit. Craig didn’t join in.
“Mr Hill, why were you following Mr Murdock? And please don’t insult me by denying it. You were caught dead to rights.”
Tommy pulled his mouth into a small twist, showing the same white teeth Craig remembered from Evie’s picture at the Manse. He lit a cigarette and Craig let him take a single drag before he pointed out the no-smoking sign on the wall. Hill’s only response was to blow a thin stream of smoke in his face. Craig shrugged, allowing the older man his small victory.
“I understand your grief Mr Hill. And I promise we’re investigating the death of your daughter thoroughly. I have a full team working on it. But you know you were caught this evening. You also know that if a hair on Mr
Murdock’s head is harmed we will charge you. And if you obstruct this investigation in any way, then I’ll find a reason to get you off the streets for longer than a few hours next time. That’s a promise. Now, am I making myself clear?”
“Aye, aye, crystal. So I’ll away home now. Unless you want me to call my brief?”
Craig shrugged indifferently and leaned back again, until Tommy capitulated.
“You’ve made your fuckin’ point, Craig.”
Craig slowly picked up the phone to the desk sergeant. “Sergeant Maguire, please escort Mr Hill off the premises… But hold his car, the tax disc expired two months ago.” It might stop him following Murdock for a few hours at least.
Tommy rose abruptly and leaned threateningly across the table, his face six inches from Craig’s. They locked eyes and neither man moved. The custody sergeant watched carefully from outside the door, ready to move the second that Tommy did. Then, just as suddenly, Hill sat down again, lounging back on his hard chair.
“You fuckin’ Pigs. Y’awl think you’re God. Well, fuck you. Do what you want, Craig. I’ll have another motor here in twenty minutes.”
“I don’t doubt it Mr Hill. But you’d better make sure that it’s clean this time, or it’ll be joining this one in the pound.”
***
10pm.
Coyler joined McCrae outside the nurse’s home and they sat in the car, watching. Beth was staying there while her place was being re-wired. They saw the light go on in her ground floor room, exactly where Tommy had said she’d be. They had no idea how he’d found her, but he was good at the old research shit, right enough. That was why Tommy would always be ‘Head Buck-Cat’, and they’d always be following.
Ten minutes later Beth appeared, walking to a cab by the gate. She was dressed for clubbing, in tight jeggings and a black sequined top.
“Mind you Coyler - some of them lezzies is real cute.”
“Just you mind what Tommy says, an’ keep it in yer zip, McCrae. Let’s follow that cab. Here, that’s brilliant, I alays wanted to say that.”
They drove off the M2 slip road towards town, and through the brightly-lit Saturday night streets. Finally the cab came to rest outside a restaurant called Made in Belfast, in the city’s busy Cathedral Quarter. It was one of the ‘in’ places to go, and Janey, Beth’s girlfriend, and some other friends, were meeting there for dinner. Beth had declined, in favour of a scented bath and her own thoughts. The week had been far too sad for small talk.
Janey was gazing through the restaurant window, and she came out immediately the cab arrived, one arm already in her jeans jacket. She had short brown hair and a slim pale prettiness, and they kissed briefly as she got in. Then the taxi drove off again towards Donegall Street. Where newspaper offices and funeral parlours, competed with nightclubs and nearby betting shops for anonymity. It would be a real challenge to look out of place there. The two men followed at a distance, trawling for somewhere to park.
“Look for somewhere close by, Coyler. To git her in the car easy.”
“Tommy says we’re just to watch her.”
“Tommy says, Tommy says. I’m fuckin’ sick of what Tommy says. Let’s lift her an’ have some fun. It’s Saturday nite for fuck’s sake!”
Coyler wasn’t hard to persuade, and they searched for somewhere badly lit. It would be hard to get Beth into the car unnoticed if it was parked under a street lamp. Although, as McCrae said sarcastically. “Them club weirdoes will be so ‘out of it’, they won’t even notice.”
The music was thumping loudly through Sarajevo’s open doors, and some of the waiting crowd were dancing, the warm night adding to their good mood. The queue’s occupants hinted at a dress code of drag or high-end clubbing.
“Jesus Rory, we’re gonna stick out somethin’ wild in there. Its al’ weemen.”
“Na we won’t, we’re dead-on. Look at them lads at the back.”
He pointed to a group of men dressed as Clones, in matching black leather and chains. Others beside them sported tight t-shirts and tanned, shaved heads. He indicated Coyler’s leather jacket and his own shaved pate, laughing. “We look just like them gay-boys. See.”
“You speak for yerself, Gloria.”
They dropped their wrists together, snorting as they drove around the corner. Then found a place high-up on a kerb, parking as far into the darkness as possible.
Coyler’s attempts at mincing made McCrae’s even worse, and by the time they reached the club they were hanging on to each other, laughing hard. The door-men smiled at them, ‘young love’, and waved them into the club’s dark interior.
“Don’t go wandrin’ off on me, McCrae, ar I’ll fuckin’ well kill you. An’ I’m not goin’ anywhere near the bogs on me own.”
McCrae laughed at him. ”Don’t be such a ganch, Coyler. Here, some of them lezzies is wild pretty. It’s like bein’ in McDanalds on a hunger strike. What a shockin’ waste of weemen, when al’ they need is a good man like me.”
Beth was standing ten feet ahead of them now, handing Janey’s jacket to the cloakroom drag queen. Then they headed into the bar, where Coyler recognised the music as ’80’s disco.
“At least I know some of this stuff, not like that thumping shite the kids listen to at the centre. One of them called it trance music. It was more like a bloody coma.”
“Never you mind the music, just don’t let them outta yer sight.”
Beth was already at the bar, ordering, watching the bartender showing off like Tom Cruise in ‘Cocktail’. Janey came up behind her, putting her arms around her waist. “Could you get me a beer please, babe?” Beth leaned back and kissed her cheek. “Sure, but go and mind the seats. We’ll be standing for hours if we lose those.”
“We’re not sitting down all night! DJ Marius is on and he’s brilliant. We’re going to be boogieing, girl.” She demonstrated her intentions by dancing her way back to their seats. Beth smiled fondly after her and then turned back to watch the bartender’s show.
McCrae nodded Coyler to keep an eye on Janey while he slipped into place at the bar, two people down from Beth. Now that he knew which drinks were hers, the next bit was easy. He watched as Beth’s cocktail was poured from the shaker, and placed beside the cold bottle of beer on the bar. While she reached into her bag for money, McCrae moved quickly. He deliberately knocked over the drink belonging to the girl beside her, so that it drenched both of their feet. Beth jumped back and turned to see what had caused the spill. Then she helped the girl, just as McCrae knew she would.
As she bent to fetch a hanky from her bag, he leaned over, dropping roofies into both of her drinks, slickly and unseen. Just as he’d done so many times before. Then he slipped away, unnoticed in the dark bar. Even if they’d used a drug dye, it was hard to see anything in this light. They were going to drink it all down, he was sure of it.
He swaggered over to where Coyler was leaning against the wall. “That’s them al’ done. Now, let’s sit back an’ watch the fireworks.”
It didn’t take long for the drugs to take effect. Within minutes, Janey was pulling at Beth’s arm and dragging her onto the empty dance floor. They both weaved like they’d had a skin-full, and after five minutes frenzied dancing Beth staggered out towards the ladies, where Coyler was already waiting beside the door. McCrae followed, ready to lift her quickly off to the car. Just as Beth reached the toilets, she met a girl she knew and started spouting rubbish.
“Beth, I don’t know what you’re on, but it’s a bit early to be talking crap isn’t it? Is Janey out there?”
“Yes, yes, dancing – we’re all dancing.”
“OK, I’ll catch you later.” Coyler saw the girl look back at Beth concerned, and he hurried over as she passed McCrae.
“We’d better shift, McCrae. From the way she looked, she’ll be draggin’ the other one out here any minute.” Just then Beth entered the ladies’ toilets.
“For fuck’s sake, Coyler. You shuda caught her before she got in.”
; They didn’t have to worry. Beth was hardly in before she came out again, ricocheting off a wall. She swerved her way past Coyler, out through the fire door and into the stairwell for some air. Perfect.
They followed her quickly, and with one hand over her mouth and an arm under her knees, they grabbed her. McCrae started urgently down the stairwell, as fast as the steep stairs allowed without dropping her. Tommy wouldn’t like the goods damaged.
“Tommy sed she wasn’t to be hurt till he sezz so.”
“Aye, aye. Just shut-the-fuck-up an’ move. I’ve done this before you know.”
The stairwell was deserted and they reached street level in under a minute. Then without warning, the fire door above them flew open, and a woman’s high-pitched scream ripped through the air. “Beth, Beth. Leave her alone you bastards, leave her alone.”
Janey flew down the stairs towards them, jumping on McCrae’s back and clawing his face with her nails. “Fuck, you wee bitch. Fuck off.”
His forearm crashed back, splitting Janey’s lip, and her blood flooded his sleeve. Then he turned and kicked her legs out, fist raised to punch. Just then a sight he never wanted to see again greeted him. The fire door had re-opened as he’d thrown Janey off, and two men were jumping over the stair well. Both were big, and one of them was wearing full make-up and a dress!
“Fuck...drop her Coyler, an’ leg it.”
They dropped Beth hard onto the concrete floor and pushed through the fire-door, running fast, one of their pursuers hindered by the heels he wore. Disappearing quickly into the gloom, they slipped into a derelict shop, staying hidden in the darkness for over twenty minutes.
Their pursuers re-entered the club, returning quickly with the bouncers. The posse walked up and down Donegall Street searching every doorway and alley, until eventually the search felt fruitless. They gave up just as an ambulance appeared.
McCrae spotted the cover and they ran behind it to their parking space. Then he raked the car into reverse down Donegall Street. Screeching off towards Clifton Street, they hungrily lit cigarettes and sucked on them like oxygen.
The Visitor (#3 - The Craig Modern Thriller Series) Page 18