Dead End

by Andrew Hamilton

  “Sit!”

  She wanted to ask him if there was a dog in the room but knew that would enrage him. She tried to smile but it was a weak attempt. “Hi!” was all she managed. Her roleplay was letting her down for once.

  “You're five minutes late.”

  “Sorry, traffic was terrible and there were roadworks everywhere.”

  “Always an excuse, just like the others. Where is it?”

  She knew exactly what he meant but annoyingly found herself asking what he was he looking for.

  “The details I told you to get. He better not have fucked up on this?”

  She opened her bag to find the note but he stepped forward and snatched the bag from her grasp. He turned it upside down and emptied the contents onto the coffee table. He pushed everything aside onto the carpet until only a piece of paper and a photograph remained. He looked at the photograph and scrunched it into a ball. He looked at the piece of paper and read through the details. He nodded as if agreeing with what he read.

  “This better be right”. He threatened. “I’ll be needing more.”

  “You said just once. He can't do it again. He’ll get in trouble.”

  “Maybe I’ll just come and live at your place? Then I can make sure he gets what I need.”

  Margaret felt as if she was going to throw up but Cheryl helped her concentrate. It was time to get out of there and get a plan to stop him. Cheryl could see his character was changing rapidly and he seemed to be relishing, maybe even aroused by, being in charge and threatening. If he was, it was a first for him.

  “I’ll call round on Thursday night. Make sure you and the geek are in. Maybe I’ll even stay over.”

  He walked over to the door and held it open. She gathered her bag and threw everything back into it. Trying to remain calm she walked towards him. As she went to pass he grabbed her around her neck and pushed her against the door frame. His fingers dug into her trachea as if he was trying to rip her throat out. She was gasping for breath and choking. He pressed a bit harder and then threw her sideways onto the steps of the house. She sprang to her, feet not feeling any pain, and ran for the car. She didn't hear or see him slam the door closed and imagined he was coming after her. She fell into the Porsche, pressed the central locking and selected reverse. Stones flew up as she shot backwards and then she skidded to a halt. If he walked out now she would run the bastard down she thought to herself. He was not in sight and the door was closed. Cheryl took charge and she reversed onto the road. She wasn't going home, she was going to visit the Boss.

  Cheryl looked at her face in the mirror, while keeping one eye on the road ahead. She had a graze on her left cheek from her fall and her neck was red with some slivers of skin which had been gouged loose by his fingernails. She spoke to her Bluetooth and it replied.

  “Calling boss”. In seven years she had never called the Boss directly. If they had to speak it was arranged through the agency much like a customer making a booking. She had met the Boss many times and there was some kind of bond which she never questioned. The Boss would make this right without question. She just wished she hadn't let it go so far without confiding.

  “Margaret?”

  “Yes!” She had the rasping voice of a young Bonnie Tyler.

  “This must be serious? Where are you?”

  “It is. I’m driving back into town.”

  “Go straight to the agency office. Tell them you are waiting to see me. They will ask you one question; ‘Is it urgent’. The reply is ‘Impasse’.”

  “Impasse, ok.”

  “I will be there in forty minutes. They will ensure your safety. What about Harry?”

  Margaret hadn't considered that as a danger but was now.

  “Fuck! I’ll call my neighbour and ask him to look in. He should be fine for now. I don't want to spook him.”

  Margaret was sitting drinking a gin and tonic when the Boss arrived. They hugged momentarily.

  “Is Harry sorted?

  “Yes! He’s fine but I'm not sure how I’m going to explain this mess,” she said pointing to her face.

  Margaret went over every detail from the day she first met John Adam Clark aged 44.

  “You should have come to me much sooner,” said the Boss. “I could have nipped this in the bud.”

  “What now?”

  “Might have to remove the bud altogether.”

  “Beat him up?”

  “Not quite.”

  “What then?”

  “Just leave this to me. I’m certain Blake has no part in this and Clark is probably using his bank details while he’s away. I’ll deal with Blake later.”

  “What if he turns up at my home on Thursday?”

  “Right now, I’m counting on that.”

  “Thanks for coming out at this time of night.”

  “You’re my top lady and have been for years. I might need to look at that now.”

  “I still need to work, I don't really know anything else.”

  “We can talk about that later. I’ll find you a suitable position. Don't worry I’ll take care of you. You have my word.”

  “I need to get home and see Harry.”

  “Ok. Just be careful until Thursday. All your appointments will be cancelled for now.”

  “What if he calls for Friday?”

  “We’ll take that appointment as if nothing has happened and deal with him on Thursday.”

  Margaret borrowed a scarf from the young lady in reception and headed home.

  Diane had work to do. First, arrange for someone to shadow Margaret without being spotted just in case Clark moved his plan forward. She also needed to speak to her contact at Police Headquarters to find out as much as possible about Clark. She always liked to know her enemy.

  15

  It was just after 11 pm when Diane got back to the flat. Carla was curled up on the sofa and had her grumpy face on.

  “Fancy a late night snack? I’m starving,” said Diane.

  Carla didn't answer and was pretending to be engrossed in a film. She liked Zombie movies and this was one of the best. Zombies who could run like Usain Bolt were always so much more scary than the lumbering lethargic type.

  “Fancy a prawn cocktail?”

  Still no answer. Diane went over and kissed her on the top of her head. Carla objected, waving her hand and shaking her head as if it was distracting her from the film.

  “It was business. You know I sometimes need to work late. You know I’d rather be here with you.”

  Still nothing. Diane made two seafood salads. Perfectly moist fresh prawns, some queen scallops and a few torn strips of smoked salmon were accompanied on the plate by a splash of balsamic dressing over the crisp mixed leaves and peppers. To finish it off she scattered a few mouth-watering capers. She poured a glass of Chablis and sat beside Carla on the sofa. Diane held out a plate to Carla who didn't look round but just pointed to the table. Diane sat it on the table. Carla’s mouth was watering and she was desperate to give in but maintained her cool. Diane gave a giggle and knew that Carla couldn't last out much longer.

  “I don't know what you’re laughing about and anyway I thought we weren't allowed to eat on the sofa?” said Carla.

  “Look! I’m sorry. Let's make the best of what's left of the night.”

  “Where have you been? Why didn't you call?”

  “Something came up. This film looks good, that guy can't half run.”

  “You’d be running that fast if it was you. And, don't kid on your interested. You hate zombie films.”

  “I’m starting to like them a bit more. I see one every morning.”

  “Ha! Very funny. Think that might be a mirror you're looking at.”

  Diane held out a large prawn and a stick of sweet yellow pepper. Carla hesitated for a moment but gave in, closed her mouth around the fork before dragging the food away. She savoured it for a moment and then lent forward to kiss Diane.

  “Maybe later,” said Diane drawing away.

&n
bsp; “Witch!” said Carla and they both laughed. Diane sat her plate down and pushed Carla back towards the cushions. Carla pulled her towards her and they lay together kissing and caressing each other.

  “Love you,” they said as one.

  16

  Margaret had managed to sneak in without seeing Harry. At about 2 am he had called it a night on his latest mission as he was up early the next that day. He had looked into the darkened room and they had spoken briefly. She kept her replies to tired-sounding grunts and groans to avoid him hearing her contralto tones.

  She had made up a lunch and hoped he would head off in the morning stopping only to say goodbye. He did just that and when she replied she thought her voice sounded, not normal but better. He was off to a local Gamers conference. Someone who had played the part of a depressed and suicidal android, in the latest blockbuster, was going to be there. However, Harry was more interested in the fact that one of his Strike Crew, a girl, who so far didn't have a name, was attending. Thus, the reason she wasn't allowed to take him there or pick him up.

  She stood in front of the full-length mirror. She was aching all over and although she could see the marks at her throat and the graze on her cheek she knew she could manage those injuries with makeup. She looked herself up and down and for the first time in her career she felt old and doubted herself. Was this the end of her Customer Satisfaction role? What would she do instead? In her mind, she went through what Diane had said to her. What kind of job was she talking about? She didn't want to be an office worker at the agency, taking appointments for those who had been her co-workers. That smacked of being turfed out due to age, the way some female newsreaders are dumped, unlike their male colleagues. Diane could be ruthless when she had to be and had made a snap decision last night. But that was what she was good at and that was why she was the Boss. She was rarely wrong in her judgement.

  Margaret remembered how Diane had approached her about a year after the death of Paddy. She only knew of Diane as a local business woman but wasn't sure what her business was. Diane had seemed to know all about what had happened to Paddy. Although Diane was younger than her it was as if she had taken Margaret under her wing. Almost as if she owed her something, Margaret had often thought. Slowly but surely she convinced her and gave her the confidence to use her body and mind to carve out a new life for herself and Harry. It had been daunting at first but eventually, she discovered Cheryl and that made all the difference. Was she now only going to go back to being ordinary old Margaret? She would miss Cheryl and even some of her regulars who were really just sad lonely people with something everyone has a lurking below the depths: mental health issues.

  As she ate breakfast, a croissant and a latte from a packet, she wondered about Clark and about what Diane had in store for him. Last night she would have killed him given the chance but now thinking about it calmly all she wanted was to never see him again. Thursday night seemed a long time away and she wished he was coming round that night instead. But, Diane’s orders were to be followed and that was what she was going to do. She lifted the free local paper which had been lying on the table since Wednesday. She skipped through it until she saw a name that jumped out of the page at her: Baako. A local man had been badly injured in what looked like a racist attack. Her phone started to ring, it was Diane.

  “I’ve arranged a meeting at the office can you be there within the hour?”

  “Of course, everything ok?”

  “Fine, we just need to get properly organised.”

  Margaret quickly read the story and as usual, the paper headline was a complete exaggeration. The victim by all accounts had suffered a cut to his nose. Baako would need to wait for now. Margaret got dressed and headed to the meeting.

  Diane was speaking quietly to a statuesque, well dressed, man in his forties. He had a bristle of hair and a matching beard. He could have been a model but he somehow made Margaret think of a soldier. He smiled warmly as Margaret took a seat. Diane introduced him as Danny and she wondered if she had met him previously.

  “Danny is up to date with what has happened and will be coordinating events,” said Diane.

  “Can I say, I mean is it ok…”

  “It’s fine, you can say anything, Danny works for me.”

  “We’re not going to hurt him are we?”

  Danny gave her a beaming smile “No. He will scare off easily. I promise you.”

  “I managed to find out quite a bit about Clark,” Diane added. “He is a small-time fraudster and thief, mainly, based on identity fraud. More of a worry is his violence towards women. He’s a bully and a coward really.”

  Diane nodded to Danny.

  “I’m going to suggest he moves away from the area and does not return,” said Danny sounding more like a lawyer. “I feel he will mutually agree with the terms of my proposal.”

  “What if he doesn't go?” asked Margaret feeling slightly apprehensive about doubting Danny’s faith in his own judgement.

  “In that very unlikely event I have a second proposal, but I am confident it will be resolved without recourse to that proposal.”

  “Danny will have a look round your home prior to Thursday,” said Diane.

  “Is there a garage?” asked Danny.

  “Yes, it’s at the back, I never use it.”

  “Good, I will leave a vehicle there when I come to look round on Monday morning when your son is at school,” he said still smiling as if he was arranging a visit to do some painting.

  “Ok. I’ll be in, Harry leaves about eight thirty.”

  “I know you will have thought of this but Harry needs to be away on Thursday for an overnight,” suggested Diane

  “Of course, stupidly I hadn't thought. I’ll get it sorted.”

  Diane stood up and Danny did likewise telling Margaret it was time to leave.

  Danny shook her hand and smiled again. Margaret had heard the term smiling assassin on a few occasions without really thinking about it but now for the first time, it made total sense. She felt her stomach churn and went to look for a nearby cafe with a loo.

  17

  On Sunday Bob and Zoe were back at the coast. As they drove into the Marina Zoe looked at Bob in expectation.

  “Are we getting a cabin cruiser?” she said excitedly.

  “Not quite.”

  “What then?”

  “I’m just thinking about it. Maybe once business picks up.”

  “So is it a cabin cruiser?”

  “It’s a dinghy.”

  “A dinghy! You're not getting me onto an oversized ‘lilo’.”

  “It’s not that type of dinghy, it’s a sailing boat.”

  “I’ll watch from the Marina as long as I have some champagne to keep me company.”

  “We could take a course together, learn how to sail?” Bob pointed to a moored boat. “That’s one there.”

  Zoe started to laugh uncontrollably. Bob had hoped he might have been able to convince her by letting her see it but that appeared to have backfired he thought. He was looking at a Maxim Sailfish 18; a sailboat which has a cosy, four berth cabin and outboard motor. It was a 1970’s build measuring almost 19 ft in length and was just the kind of classic Bob admired.

  “You can sleep on it,” he added, “It’s a four berth.”

  “Maybe you can?”

  “You don't need to sail it. It has an outboard.”

  “I can see it's got an engine. I think someone is missing their lawnmower?” she started to laugh again.

  Bob was annoyed by her, which was rare. Zoe realised that a mocking approach wasn't best of tactics and suggested they have some lunch and have a look round to see what else was on offer. They returned home without a boat but Bob had been talking on the way home about taking a captain's course. Zoe agreed with everything he said even though she wasn't really listening. She knew that when the time came she would pick the boat, preferably a big one. She liked the idea of lying on deck, in a bikini, with an ice bucket nearby.

&
nbsp; Once home, Bob sorted some food and they sat down to watch some telly. Bob rarely bothered with programs but Zoe had been talking on the way home about a new film she wanted to watch. Bob had been busy thinking about sailing the seas so had agreed without question. Bob sat down on the sofa and Zoe handed him an antiquary. She sat on the sofa with her back tucked into his side so he couldn't actually see her face. He was just starting to wonder what was going on when the DVD started. Zoe remained quiet. Bob was even quieter. The couple on the screen coiled around each other like pythons while sounding as they should have been on their way to A&E. They started off in the kitchen, across the table then into the living room and the sofa, up the stairs to the bed and finished off in the shower. Bob said nothing until the titles rolled.

  “Is this illegal stuff?”

  “Illegal?” Zoe was laughing again which had been a theme that day.

  “Yeah! hardcore porn, isn't that risky to have?”

  “You are so funny. It’s mild, soft porn. A couple, making love, but just with silly side to it.”

  “But why..?”

  “No reason, I just thought it would be a bit of fun.”

  Bob had now watched his first ever ‘porno’ and it wasn't too bad he thought. He was now sitting very uncomfortably and had to adjust his position. Zoe got up and left to go for a shower calling him darling. He was undressed, in and out the shower, and in bed wearing a smile in around six minutes. It was a full twelve minutes, by his counting, before Zoe walked into their room. He was lying on his back and the fine cotton sheet had a bit of a tepee situation going on which Zoe took time to admire. She was wearing nothing but a ‘partial brazilian’ but she suddenly felt more like Hiawatha and climbed under the covers into the tent.

  18

  Margaret grabbed Harry’s cheeks, pushing his face into a contortion, before pulling it down and kissing the top of his head. She had grilled him over the weekend but had got nothing back on who the mystery girl was. She knew that meant he must actually like her. He set off for school and she started to tidy the dishes away when she heard a vehicle on her driveway. Harry had only been gone ten minutes so it was either lucky timing or they had been watching for him leaving. A dark blue van with Meadow Landscapes was stopped at the rear of her home facing into the slightly creaky looking wooden garage. A man wearing overalls got out and walked towards her door. She was struggling to see his face and feared it might be Clark. She then saw the beaming smile of Danny. He looked good even in work gear but, more than anything, he kind of scared her. She opened the back door and he walked in without being invited. He explained that he was going to park the van in the garage and leave it there till Thursday night. He told her not to go near the van but if anything developed with Clark, prior to Thursday, to call him immediately. If necessary he would speak to his ‘man in the van’ who would intervene ensuring the safety of her and her son. Margaret felt a bit spooked by the idea of someone being in the van for all that time in her garage but Danny assured her that he would not require anything and was ‘geared up’ to cope with his task. Danny spent over an hour looking around her home. He said little but seemed most interested in her basement and she could hear him moving items around. He checked every window and door and stressed the need to maintain security until they had time to deal with Clark. When he left she felt worse than ever and hadn't considered the idea of Clark turning up early.