Not to mention the amount of CCTV that a hospital is likely to have.
There was no getting out of the fact that very soon Andrew would be arrested and charged with murder. It likely wouldn’t matter to the police his reasons why, but the only vindication he could hold onto was that Jordan was jointly responsible for the torture of his wife and child.
Jointly responsible…
What was going to happen to the others? Would they get away scot-free?
Andrew could take the punishment for what he’d done. What he couldn’t take was be if his actions somehow helped exonerate Frankie and the others. They would be free to blame the whole thing on Jordan now.
He done the whole thing, yer Honour. I had nothing to do with it.
And that was if they ever even went to court. They would provide alibis for one another and deny everything. That was exactly what Jordan had done right before Andrew gutted him like the cowardly fish that he was. He had been denying everything.
How good it would feel to do the same to Frankie.
Andrew passed over the thought, but then backed up and reconsidered it.
What was to stop him? He was going down for murder anyway. Pen might die and this could be the only chance to punish those responsible.
Somehow Andrew had found himself considering murder again. What shocked him most was that he’d already made his mind up. Looking around his smashed-up living room, covered in the blood of the people he loved, he was absolutely adamant that Frankie and his friends needed to die.
And they needed to die tonight.
Andrew leapt up from the sofa, the pain of his wounds forgotten as focus and determination crept in. He headed to the kitchen and straight for the drawer beneath the microwave. He took out the longest blade he could find – a 9-inch carving knife – and wrapped it up in a tea towel. He stuffed the whole thing down the waistband of his trousers, at the side so the blade wouldn’t dig into him. Then he stood for a few moments, wondering if he should take anything else with him, but there was nothing more lethal inside the house than the knife he now possessed. He didn’t need anything else. Just something he could kill Frankie with.
It was time to go.
He let out a long breath and enjoyed the calm for a moment, then stepped back through into the living room and took one final look at the mess of his home to reconfirm his intentions. There was still no doubt in his mind.
Into the hallway and through to the porch, Andrew unlocked the front door. The rain was falling harder now, hitting against the glass windows with the same ferocity of the blood pumping through his veins. He stepped out into the downpour and felt instantly refreshed as it washed away the drying blood from his skin. He ran his hands through his hair and slicked it back, squeezing away the excess moisture.
“Mr Goodman. Stay right where you are.”
Andrew looked through the darkness and spotted two figures at the end of his path.
Officer Wardsley and Officer Dalton were there to arrest him.
***
“I don’t have time for this,” Andrew told the officers. “I need to go.”
“Not going to happen,” said Wardsley. “We need to ask you a few questions up at the station.”
“I did it, alright? I murdered Jordan. You want to know why?”
The officers closed the gap between them and Andrew and now stood staring at him as though he were a wild animal.
“We know why?” Dalton said, not unsympathetically.
“I murdered Jordan because he was one of the bastards who shaved my wife’s head, snorted coke off her naked body, and then stabbed her and my daughter. I couldn’t give him the chance to finish what he’d started. I couldn’t let him walk around free to do it again.”
Dalton stepped slightly ahead of her partner and looked at Andrew pityingly. “You should have left it to us, Andrew. They’ll pay for what they’ve done, I promise. But now you’re in a lot of trouble too. There’s better ways to deal with people like Frankie and his friends. ”
“Bullshit,” Andrew spat. “You don’t really believe that. They’re all going to cover for each other and nothing will stick. Jordan was already pleading ignorant when I cornered him.”
“Cornered him and murdered him,” said Wardsley stepping up beside his partner. “You’re no better than they are now.”
Andrew examined both officers. If they were doing their jobs correctly, he would’ve already been in handcuffs by now, in their squad car and on his way to the station, but they were letting him talk.
“Do either of you have children?” he asked the both of them.
Both of them shook their heads.
“Then what do you know?”
“Nothing,” Dalton admitted, “but you don’t have the right to murder someone in a hospital right in front of frightened members of the public. That’s not the right way.”
Andrew laughed. “You sound like you disagree with my methods more than my actions.”
The suggestion was met with silence. Andrew looked at Dalton and tried to read what she was thinking, but couldn’t.
“You’re going to go to prison, Mr Goodman,” said Wardsley. “How does that help Rebecca?”
“It doesn’t help her,” he admitted. “But maybe by killing Jordan I’ve helped other people’s daughters. He was just a teenager; plenty of years ahead of him for terrorising more innocent people.”
“Maybe, you’re right,” said Wardsley, “but we still have to take you in.”
Andrew nodded. “And I’ll let you. Just let me finish what I started first.”
Obviously the request shocked them both, because they looked at him like he was mad.
“I’m already going to prison,” Andrew said. “Let me do some good before that happens. Let me make the world a safer place for other families, so that they don’t end up like mine. Frankie is a cancer and I want to go and cut him out of the world.”
“You’re insane to even ask such a thing,” said Wardsley. “It’s ridiculous and I would suggest you don’t say anything else. We are officers of the law.”
Dalton stepped aside, leaving the pathway open and clear. She motioned with an arm that Andrew was free to walk by her. “You do what you have to do,” she said, “but soon as you’re finished you hand yourself in and confess everything.”
Andrew nodded vigorously. “You have my word. Thank you.”
“What the fuck are you doing, Laura?” said Wardsley, his eyes blinking in the rain. “You’ll end up doing a stretch with him. Have you lost your mind?”
“I’m just letting him do what I would want to do in his situation, Jack. It’s time these kids got a lesson taught to them. I’m sick of it, aren’t you? These kids hang around in animal packs and put fear into everyone. It might be completely crazy, but I wouldn’t mind tomorrow’s newspapers telling a story about how one of the victims fought back.”
Wardsley shook his head, exasperated. “If anyone finds out about this…”
“No one will,” said Dalton, “and admit it – you want to see Frankie punished as well. Not just him but every arrogant little yob like him. We’ve been in the force almost ten years each, Jack, and in that time how many scumbags have we seen walk free, laughing all the way? Even when they go down, they don’t care. They go about their business the moment they get back out. Wouldn’t you like them to know that sometimes the victims can bite back?”
Wardsley thought about things for a moment and then seemed to relax his shoulders. It was clear he was struggling with something internally, but it was also clear that he trusted his partner. He stepped aside from the path and nodded at Andrew. “I don’t know how you’re going to find Frankie, but he’s been known to hang around with a local drug dealer named Damien Banks. 14 Middleton Mews. No collateral damage. Understand? Jesus, I can’t believe I’m doing this.”
Dalton slipped her hand into Dalton’s and made it obvious that the two were closer than just colleagues. For some reason, Andrew realised, Dalton em
pathised with him, and that had bought him a little time.
Andrew thanked the both of them then hurried past, sprinting down the path.
“Penelope’s dead,” Dalton said before he disappeared. “We got word that she died twenty minutes ago. I’m sorry.”
Andrew stopped, said nothing, didn’t turn around or even move. Instead he glared forward into the rain-soaked darkness with nothing but murder on his mind. “I’ll see you both in the morning,” he said to the officers, then disappeared into the night.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Davie waited anxiously for Frankie to get off the phone. His brother was clutching the mobile so tightly to his face that it threatened to break. Davie didn’t know who was on the other end, or even what was being said, but he could tell one thing for certain: it was bad news.
“No fuckin’ way,” Frankie screamed into the phone. “How the hell did it happen?”
After several more minutes of shouting and cursing, Frankie ended the call and put the phone back in his jean pocket. He then proceeded to stand there saying nothing, staring at an invisible spot in the sky directly above his head.
“What is it?” Davie asked. “What’s happened?”
Frankie lowered his gaze slowly until it focused on his brother. “Jordan’s dead.”
Davie could not have cared less about the twins, but the shock of hearing something so unexpected hit him in his stomach like a punch. There was no way Jordan could be dead.
I saw him last night.
Frankie elaborated. “That fucker bowled up to him at the hospital and gutted him.”
Davie suddenly felt a fire in his tummy, which radiated throughout his entire body. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “You mean Andrew did this?”
Frankie nodded angrily. “Dom heard a nurse give a description to the police. It was definitely him. Fucker’s dead meat.”
Davie still couldn’t believe it. The thought of Andrew committing murder was insane. “What was Jordan doing at the hospital? He should have known Andrew would be there with his family.”
“He was getting his face checked out. Dom said his bro almost fainted this morning because it was so infected. He had no choice but to go the hospital.”
“Is Dom still at the hospital now? What about Andrew?”
“Dom’s out looking for the piece of shit as we speak. He’ll kill him if he finds him. Works out well for us, actually.”
Davie couldn’t understand how calm his brother was being. Hadn’t Jordan been his friend? “What do you mean it works out well for us?”
“Because Andrew’s a problem that needs dealing with. If Dom gets to him first then we don’t have to worry about him coming after us.”
“You think that’s going to happen? You think Andrew is planning to do the same to us as he did Dom?”
“Seems likely,” said Frankie. “The reason Jordan was alone when he got stabbed was that his brother had gone to look for that guy’s family – to see if they were still alive and whether or not we’d be facing a murder charge.”
“And are we?”
“Yes and no. The girl’s okay apparently, but the old dear snuffed it about the same time that Jordan did. Messed up, if you think about it. So you see,” said Frankie, “if Dom gets to Andrew first he’s doing us all a favour. The police are after his ass, his wife is dead, and he has nothing else left to lose by coming after us.”
“He still has a daughter,” said Davie, holding on to the fact that they had not taken away absolutely everything from the man.
“Yeah he does,” Frankie nodded, “good thinking, little bro. We still have something to use against him if we need to.”
“Fuck sake, man.” Davie felt like beating the shit out of his brother. If only he could have. “Have you not done enough damage? I can’t believe you’re still thinking about hurting people.”
“Chill the fuck out!”
Davie shoved Frankie hard in the chest. “No, you chill the fuck out. I’m so out of here, man. You can go right to hell for all I care.”
Davie turned away from his brother and started walking.
“You get back here right now,” Frankie shouted after him. “We need to stick together with that psycho on the loose, you hear me?”
Davie turned back around and started marching back towards his brother. “You don’t get it, do you, Frankie? The only psychopath here is you. You belong in jail, man. They should never have let you out”
Frankie pulled out his gun and pointed it in Davie’s face.
“Seriously?” Davie shook his head sighed. “You’re pointing that thing at me? You going to shoot your own brother now?”
Frankie’s face twitched and the movement seemed to tremor down to his hand, which was held the revolver unsteadily. In fact his entire body was shaking.
“Just do it,” Davie ordered. “I don’t give a fuck anymore.”
Frankie’s face contorted, the veins in his neck bulged like worms beneath his skin. Davie had never seen his brother like this – so close to freaking out. After a few tense seconds, Frankie chose to lower the weapon. Tears glistened in his eyes, but he did not speak.
Davie had nothing to say either. He started walking away again.
Frankie shouted after him. “I don’t want you to get hurt, Davie.”
“Don’t worry about it,” he replied over his shoulder. “You gave me a gun. If I’m in danger I’ll take a leaf out of your book and start killing people.”
“Where are you going to go?”
Davie thought about it. Then said: “Home.”
Frankie followed after him, footsteps keeping time with his own. “That’s the first place Andrew will look for us.”
Davie turned back around and shrugged. “Then I’ll have to deal with the consequences. It’s not as though we didn’t cause trouble at his house, is it? We deserve whatever we get.”
“Why the hell you care so much about this guy?”
“Because if I didn’t care then I would be the same as you, and I never want that. Never.” Davie could tell he had hurt Frankie with those final words – the silence told him so – but no way did he fucking didn’t care.
“Do what the fuck you want,” Frankie said finally. “But if I go down I’m taking you with me – and you won’t last ten minutes inside.”
Davie laughed. “I think that’s actually something to be proud of. I’m glad I’m not cut out for prison – means I’m still a human being and not an animal.”
For the first time in his life, Davie turned his back on his big brother.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Andrew had no clue what he planned on doing, but he had lost none of his motivation that he would do something. For all he knew, he could be walking towards a house full of druggies, carrying knives even nastier than the one he currently had hidden on his person. The house was large, posh even, and certainly not what Andrew had been expecting.
I guess crime really does pay.
Before he even had chance to complete his walk along the path, the front door opened and a topless young man stood in the opening.
“The hell are you?” the youth demanded.
“I’m looking for Frankie.”
“Join the club.”
Andrew didn’t understand. “Do you know where I can find him?”
The youth, that Andrew surmised must be Damien, stepped out onto the pavement to meet him. “You’re the guy that has a beef with him, ain’t ya?”
Andrew raised his arm slightly; ready to grab the knife stuffed into his waistband at the slightest hint of a threat. “I guess you could say that?”
Damien grinned. “Well, I hope you fuck him up. He has it coming.”
Andrew frowned. “Huh?”
“Frankie jacked some of my shit earlier. He ain’t a friend of mine anymore.”
Andrew attempted a nervous smile. It seemed appropriate in the moment to show friendliness. The enemy of my enemy is my friend. “T-that’s…good to hear. So do you
know where I can find him?”
Damien shrugged. “Honestly, I don’t, mate. If I knew, I would tell you, honestly. What he done to your family is messed up. How are they?”
“My wife is dead.” Andrew would allow no emotion into his voice as he spoke. He could not afford to be weak right now.
Damien shook his head and seemed genuinely disgusted. “That prick has a goddamn screw loose.”
Andrew sensed an opportunity to get answers. “Is that why he did this to me? Because he’s crazy?”
“Dunno. Maybe. Knowing Frankie, it could just be because he don’t like your face…” Damien’s words trailed off for a minute and a realisation seemed to dawn on his face. “You know, now that I’m looking at you…”
“What?” Andrew asked. “Do I look like someone?”
Damien huffed and shook his head. “Damn, no wonder the guy hates you.”
Andrew sensed that Damien was about to say more, but then someone appeared in the doorway behind him.
Anger welled up inside of Andrew and his eyes narrowed. “Michelle?”
Michelle stared out at Andrew and was obviously surprised to see him, her badly bruised jaw hanging agape. Then she turned angry. Running at Andrew, she screamed, “You killed Jordan, you bastard.”
Andrew sidestepped and shoved out at her. The girl went flying into the grass on her hands and knees.
“I assume you two have met, then?” Damien quipped from the doorway.
Andrew turned to him. “You going to get involved in this?”
“She made her own bed. She can fucking well lie in it.” Damien started to close the door, but halfway he stopped and gave Andrew some parting advice. “Hey, man, watch yourself with Frankie, okay? The stuff he jacked from me, it was a pair of shooters.”
“Guns?” Andrew attempted to clarify, but Damien had already closed the door and turned off the hallway light.
“You fucker.” Michelle cursed more obscenities at him as she clambered to her feet. She was half-naked and muddy, covered only by a pair of linen shorts and a strappy top. He nakedness didn’t seem to bother her, though, and she launched another attack. Striking out like a seasoned pugilist, Andrew struck her ribs. She fell back to the ground, sucking in air.
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