The Villain’s Daughter

by Roberta Kray

  ‘Does it matter?’

  Iris, walking in front, looked over her shoulder. ‘Just curious,’ she said, trying to sound as if she didn’t really care.

  Suddenly his mouth broke into a grin. ‘Hey, it’s not what you think. We had a brief fling, but that was years ago. That’s not what this is about.’

  Iris was a step above him, which put them almost at the same height. Gazing straight into his eyes, she said, ‘You don’t need to explain.’ She wanted him to tell her, but at the same time she didn’t want to come across as one of those needy, jealous women who demanded to know every detail. She had a horror, especially after being dumped by Luke, of coming across as in any way desperate.

  ‘I want to,’ he said. ‘You’ve got a right.’ Wrapping his arms around her waist, he turned her around and pulled her closer. ‘Truth is, she’s not too pleased about the company I’ve been keeping recently.’

  ‘Ah,’ Iris murmured. ‘I presume that means me . . . or am I being oversensitive?’

  ‘She thinks you’re going to get me into trouble.’

  ‘So she knows about my dad?’

  Guy shook his head. ‘Not the details. Only that you’re searching for him, and that I’m helping you. Oh, and that Terry Street’s quite keen to have a word with him too.’ He pulled a face. ‘She’s not too keen on the Terry Street angle. Everyone knows him round here, and what he’s capable of.’

  ‘I suppose she’s just looking out for you and Noah.’

  ‘Serena never looks out for anyone other than herself. She lent her big brother some cash so he could buy a share of the business. Now she’s worried that we’ll have the Streets on our backs. She’s just stressing about her investment.’

  Iris opened her mouth to ask another question, but Guy quickly put a finger to her lips. ‘Enough,’ he said, smiling. ‘Let’s not waste our time talking about things we can’t change. Serena isn’t important. It’s just you and me now.’ He swept back a strand of her hair, coiled it between his fingertips and gazed solemnly into her face. ‘You know how I feel about you, Iris O’Donnell.’

  Iris held her breath. ‘Do I?’ Had she said the words aloud? She wasn’t sure. There was a tiny fluttering at the base of her throat.

  ‘Yes,’ he whispered.

  As he bent to kiss her, Iris closed her eyes.

  Chapter Forty-seven

  There was a cold, hard stone in the pit of Alice Avery’s stomach. She had spent over forty-eight hours dreading this moment and now it had finally arrived. As she walked behind Toby, stumbling occasionally, her heart was thumping in her chest. Beyond the reach of the streetlamps, the alley that ran along the back of Tobias Grand & Sons and its neighbours was pitch-black. She looked up. Even the night sky was starless. The only light came from the thin, wavering beam of Toby’s torch.

  A skinny cat leapt out of the darkness and hurtled past them. Alice stifled a cry and her hand sprung out to touch the back of Toby’s jacket.

  He gave a soft laugh as if her fear amused him. ‘Almost there,’ he whispered.

  They could have gone in through the front door - who was likely to see them at this time of night? - but he’d insisted on this half-blind journey through the alley. She suspected that he liked the subterfuge, the idea of prowling around like a burglar. It was an unwelcome reminder of just how young he was.

  Toby stopped suddenly and she almost crashed into him. She heard the jangle of his keys as he took them from his pocket. Then the beam of the torch sought out the lock. Seconds later they were inside and Alice breathed out a sigh of relief. The first part was over. Now they only had to descend to the basement, start the preparations and wait for Danny Street to arrive . . .

  Twenty minutes later, everything was ready. Jenni Brookner had been removed from the refrigeration unit and was laid out on the table, her nakedness covered by a crisp white sheet. Alice had put on her scrubs and latex gloves. She was checking and rechecking her tools, trying to keep busy, to keep her mind off what was coming next - but her eyes kept straying towards the table. She shivered. Guilt, as bitter as bile, was eating away at her.

  Alice embarked on yet another unwelcome battle with her conscience. There was still time to say no, wasn’t there? She didn’t have to go through with it. They could find another way of repaying the debt. But she knew it wasn’t just about the cash: Danny Street wouldn’t release his hold on them until he’d got exactly what he wanted.

  Toby paced the floor, glancing impatiently at his watch. ‘Where is he? Where is he, for fuck’s sake?’

  Alice thought about the first time they’d done this. How had she ever let Toby talk her into it? But looking at him, at his lean supple frame and shock of fair hair, she knew exactly why. Love made people do the most outrageous of things. Even ugly things. ‘He only wants to watch,’ he’d said to her. ‘You wouldn’t mind, would you? Only he’s fascinated by it, by the process, you know, of . . . er . . . embalming.’ And yes, Danny Street had been fascinated all right, but not in any way that could be described as healthy. She remembered his cruel dark eyes following her every movement, the lick of sweat on his forehead, the quickening of his breath as he watched her make the incisions. It was the thrill, the excitement he’d so clearly felt, that had filled her with horror. He hadn’t even touched the body, but that didn’t make a difference. It was what had been in his mind that revolted her.

  No, she should never have agreed to do it again. But then she thought about the consequences of backing out. She recalled driving to Shoreditch and finding Toby battered and bruised; he still bore the scars from that beating. Sometimes, when she touched him, he flinched and pulled away. The idea of his being hurt again was just too much too take. Instantly, she made her decision. Removing the sheet from Jenni Brookner’s corpse, she gently began to massage the limbs. The sooner she got started, the sooner she could be finished. But she was still holding on to a glimmer of hope. Street was already late. Perhaps he wouldn’t turn up at all. Perhaps, God willing, something terrible had happened to him.

  Toby swore again and continued to pace.

  The minutes slowly passed.

  The knock when it came sounded unnaturally loud. It seemed to reverberate, sending off a series of shocks that the whole neighbourhood must hear. Alice almost jumped out of her skin. Her heart began to thump and a trembling started in her knees. She wanted to run away, but even if her legs could have carried her there was nowhere to go.

  Toby headed for the steps but then stopped, turned around and laid a hand on her arm. As if he guessed that her resolve might be faltering, his blue eyes gazed pleadingly into hers. ‘You won’t let me down, will you?’

  She shook her head.

  ‘You swear?’

  ‘I swear,’ she croaked.

  He bent and kissed her softly on the lips. ‘I love you.’

  Alice watched him disappear up the steps. Her heart was still missing beats, but it wasn’t just from fear. It was worth doing almost anything to hear those three precious words. She thought of her mother and her cronies gathered in the flat at Valentine Court. It wouldn’t be long now before she could wipe those mocking smiles off their faces.

  She heard Toby open and close the back door. This was followed by a murmuring of voices. She waited, but still they didn’t come down to the basement. What were they doing?

  She shifted restively from one foot to another. Now the time had come, she wanted to get it over and done with.

  It felt like forever before she finally heard their descending footsteps, although in reality it was probably no more than three or four minutes. Danny Street came first. He strutted in wearing a white jacket and tie, his attire more suited to a cocktail party than the cool, sterile basement of Tobias Grand & Sons. His eyes alighted on her briefly. He gave a slight nod, enough to acknowledge her presence without taking the trouble to open his mouth. She could have taken offence - no one liked being greeted with indifference - but Alice had more pressing worries. She didn’t give a damn whethe
r he was polite to her or not. In fact, she was glad that they didn’t have to talk - he had nothing to say that she wanted to hear.

  As Toby followed behind, he shot her a reassuring smile. She smiled tentatively back before returning her attention to Danny Street, watching closely as his gaze gradually focused on the pale naked body of Jenni Brookner. She found herself holding her breath, suddenly afraid that he would find something to complain about. What if Jenni’s figure was all wrong, her hair the wrong colour? The moment these thoughts entered her head, she felt disgusted by them. She shouldn’t be entertaining such ideas - they were evil, sick.

  But Danny Street appeared more than happy with what he was seeing. A glimmer of a smile snaked on to his lips. ‘Well, we’ll get started then, shall we,’ he said. He didn’t address her directly, didn’t even glance in her direction, but simply uttered the words into the space that lay between them.

  Alice looked over at Toby, but he had his eyes firmly fixed on the floor. He’d moved away from the table and was standing by the sink. His face was drawn, his arms wrapped around his chest and his hands clenched under his armpits. He looked like a scared little boy and her heart went out to him. If she bottled it now, there was no saying what Danny Street might do. Well, she wasn’t going to let him be hurt again. They were in this together. She gulped down her panic and stepped forward.

  Alice could see only one way to get through this and that was to get it over and done with as quickly as possible. If she put her mind to it, she could complete the job in less than an hour. Yes, that’s how she had to think about it - just another job, nothing else. She had to hold her nerve. Last time she had told Danny Street exactly what she was doing, taking him through the process step by step, almost treating him like a student, but on this occasion she sensed it was smarter to stay silent. Unless he asked her something, she would keep her mouth firmly shut.

  As Alice went to shoot the formaldehyde into Jenni Brookner’s carotid artery, she realised her hand was shaking. She had to lower the needle and take a few seconds to calm herself. It didn’t help that Danny Street was standing so close, almost breathing down her neck. She could smell his sweat and the stale lingering stench of cigarettes. She glanced at him, noting the sheen on his upper lip. Concentrate, she told herself. For Toby’s sake, she had to stay calm. Once this was over, they’d be free of the creep forever.

  The next forty-five minutes were possibly the longest of Alice’s life. She was trying to work as efficiently as she could, but her fingers, usually so nimble, had become thick and clumsy. All the procedures that had once been second nature, now felt so complicated she was barely able to perform them. She stumbled over the simplest of manoeuvres, dropping hooks, spilling chemicals. With every action she performed, something seemed to go wrong.

  She tried to ignore Danny Street, to pretend he wasn’t there, but his presence was too solid, too overwhelming for this to be possible. He was like a long, vile shadow attached to her shoulder. Every tiny movement he made, every clearing of his throat, induced a desire in her to scream. She could feel the hairs standing up on the back of her neck.

  Alice paused for a moment. She looked down at Jenni Brookner, at her pale flawless skin and long fair hair. This was a young woman whose life had been cruelly snatched away before she’d even reached her twenty-first birthday. Usually Alice would have pondered on what that life had been like, searched for clues on the body, but she had no time for idle ruminations tonight. She knew what she should be feeling - pity and compassion - but there was no space left in her heart. Fear had consumed her, pushing all other emotions aside. She closed her eyes for a second. If only this was a bad dream, a nightmare she could eventually wake up from.

  Danny Street shifted impatiently behind her, his black shiny shoes making a tiny scuffing sound against the lino.

  Alice blinked open her eyes again. Concentrate. She had to wipe her mind clean of everything, everyone. It was the only way she was going to get through this. She straightened her shoulders and breathed in deeply. Then in one quick easy motion she leaned down, picked up the trocar and pierced the girl’s abdomen just above the navel . . .

  Somehow, she got through it - and in record time too. By one o’clock Alice had completed the emptying, the washing, the replacing, even the sewing-up of all the loose ends. She stood back and gave a sigh of relief. It was over. Jenni Brookner was perfectly embalmed. Now all that was left was for her to apply a little make-up . . . and for Danny Street to walk away and leave them in peace.

  But as Alice reached for her bag of cosmetics, Toby moved forward and took her hand. ‘Let’s go upstairs,’ he said. ‘Take a break.’

  She glared at him. A break was the last thing she needed. All she wanted was to get out of here and as soon as possible. ‘What?’

  ‘A drink,’ Toby said.

  Oh, great! As if she hadn’t had enough to endure of the crazy Danny Street already. Now she was expected to sit across a table from the lunatic and act as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. She frowned at Toby, not able to say what she was thinking out loud. Then when this had no effect, she peered deliberately at her watch. ‘It’s getting late. Don’t you think . . .?’

  Toby didn’t take the hint. Instead he propelled her firmly up the stairs. ‘Just one drink,’ he said. ‘That’s not going to make much difference, is it?’

  When they reached the kitchen, Toby switched on the overhead light. As always the neon tube flickered and hummed before coming on properly. She presumed it was safe to have the light on - the kitchen was at the back of the building - but as she sat down she still looked warily towards the two frosted windows.

  Toby took a half bottle of vodka from his pocket, unscrewed the cap and slopped a generous measure into a couple of mugs. ‘Here,’ he said, placing one in front of her. He bent and kissed her neck. ‘You deserve this. You were brilliant.’

  But Alice didn’t want congratulations. There was nothing praiseworthy about sneaking around in the middle of the night, pandering to the dubious interests of a local thug. What she had done was wrong and there was no getting over it. She glanced anxiously towards the door and then back at Toby. ‘Where is he? What’s he doing?’

  Toby shrugged and looked away.

  Alice frowned. There was something furtive about him, about the way he wouldn’t meet her eyes that set alarm bells ringing in her head. Suddenly she had one of those revelatory moments. It was like a bright, vivid light illuminating the impossible. Her body went hot and cold and her mouth fell open. Goosebumps gathered on her arms. ‘Oh my God,’ she murmured. Why hadn’t it occurred to her? Why hadn’t she realised that this time watching might not be enough for a monster like Danny Street? That’s how it worked, wasn’t it? First there was the interest in corpses, then there was the obsession, and then . . . She shot up out of her chair and headed towards the door.

  Toby grabbed hold of her arm, forcibly restraining her. ‘What are you doing?’

  ‘What do you think? We have to stop him. We can’t . . .’ She couldn’t bring herself to finish the sentence. ‘We can’t.’

  ‘We have to.’

  ‘D-don’t you care?’ she stammered out.

  Toby gave a low frustrated growl. ‘Of course I care, but what do you want me to do? Go down there and tell him he’s a fucking freak? We just sit here and wait. This is our one and only chance to get clear of him forever.’

  ‘But—’

  ‘But nothing,’ he said fiercely. Two bright red spots had appeared on his cheeks. ‘Do you want him to kill me? To kill you?’

  Alice had begun to shake again. This was worse than the trembling that had overtaken her in the basement, a hundred thousand times worse. It racked her body and made her teeth chatter. She felt the nausea rise up from her stomach. Shaking herself free of Toby’s grasp, she rushed across the room and threw up in the sink.

  Chapter Forty-eight

  Iris couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt so happy. Bearing in mind the
ominously dark cloud that still hung over her, this was probably tempting fate, but she didn’t care. Love and optimism went hand in hand, and with Guy beside her she could get through anything. It was as though she’d turned a corner and from this point on life could only get better. Was it possible to fall in love overnight? She smiled to herself. Except, of course, it hadn’t just happened overnight; there had been a spark there, a chemistry, from the very first moment they’d met.

  She looked around reception, aware that if it hadn’t been for this job she might never have set eyes on him. God bless Tobias Grand & Sons! It was Monday morning, nine-thirty, and even Gerald Grand’s reappearance - and his insistence on reviewing every bit of paperwork for the past week - couldn’t blunt her good mood. All she had to do now was to start building some bridges with Vita . . . She wasn’t too worried about Michael, that spat would blow over, but her friend was a different matter altogether. She suspected it would take more than a heartfelt apology to heal the rift.

  Iris wondered if she should have called her yesterday. Giving the dust time to settle was all very well, but the longer she let things drift, the worse they might become. Would Vita have told Rick what she’d said? Of course she would. It was too serious, too inflammatory to ignore. Iris felt a flush invade her cheeks. How would she ever look him in the face again? It seemed doubtful that the truth about where he’d got the money from would ever come out - but her hasty accusation would never be forgotten. Still, she had to at least try and make amends. She would ring tonight; Guy would be working and, if Vita was willing, they could have a long talk.

  The main door opened and Toby Grand bounced in. He shook the snow from his leather jacket and came over to perch on the corner of her desk. ‘How’s it going, babe? Have you missed me?’

  Iris stared up at him. ‘God, what happened to your face?’