by Sibel Hodge
Brad folded his arms across his chest and sighed. ‘That would make sense.’
‘When I asked Letitia if Levi would’ve driven home drunk that night, she said he wouldn’t, but I’ve seen some of the things people do when they’re shit-faced on alcohol, and it’s not pretty,’ I said. ‘Back when I was just a beat cop, every Friday and Saturday night we’d get calls to the High Street when it was chucking out time from the pubs. Crowds of people – men and women – high on weekend binge drinking. They either wanted to fight, or collapse in the middle of the road, thinking they were indestructible from oncoming cars, or break in to shops. They would do anything and everything you could possibly imagine because they thought they were sober or they couldn’t control their inhibitions any more.’ Visions popped into my head of one guy who thought he could fly and wanted to jump off the nearest multi-storey car park. ‘Levi could’ve driven home that night and caused Edward’s accident.’
‘Wouldn’t Janice have mentioned another car in her report?’ Hacker asked.
I snorted at him. ‘If Levi did it and she was covering up for Vinnie for some reason, she could easily have left that out. Or she may not have known another car was involved if Levi fled the scene. Or she could’ve just left that detail off the report because she’s a complete idiot. Edward could’ve swerved to avoid Levi and ended up in the ditch upside down. It’s obvious from the lack of information in the report that she didn’t fully complete it for some reason.’
‘If that’s what happened, it’s obvious Levi wouldn’t want anyone to find out about it,’ Brad said. ‘And if Vinnie had some kind of evidence of what happened that night in his safety box, Levi had a big motive to arrange the bank robbery and get it back.’
I blew out a deep breath, trying to get my head around everything else that had happened. ‘But what about the other stuff going on at the bank? Carl had his passport and suitcase out when I went to his house. If he was also involved in the illegal betting with the clients’ money, he might’ve known it was just a matter of time before someone found out, and he was going to do a moonlight flit to South Africa. I told Edward that I knew about the betting, but I said I wasn’t going to do anything about it.’ I shrugged. ‘Well, he lied to me, so I thought I’d return the compliment. Anyway, he knows that I know now, so he might be thinking about doing the off, too. Hacker, can you keep track of any plane or train tickets he buys, just in case?’
‘Sure. Are you going to let Romeo know about your suspicions concerning Levi and what Edward was doing at the bank?’ Hacker said.
I nodded. ‘Yes, but I want to find Levi before I involve the police.’ I looked at Brad. ‘Have you heard from the pest control people about my apartment?’
‘Yes, I met them there earlier with the key. They just phoned to say that all the spiders should be dead, but you won’t be able to go back until later because you have to wait for the fumes to clear.’
‘“Should be”? That’s not a “definitely will be.”’ I shivered at the thought of finding spiders in dark places. My knicker drawer, for starters. Or my bed. Or stuffed down the side of my sofa. Or in my shoes. Or anywhere for that matter. They hid in creepy hidey-hole places, waiting to pounce and do yucky insecty things. No. I didn’t think I could ever live there again.
‘Do you need to get some more stuff?’ Brad asked.
‘Yes, but I need you to do it with me. I can’t face the thought of having spiders in my clothes.’
He kissed the top of my head. ‘Why don’t you tell me what you need and I’ll go and collect it. If I get time, I can go there after we’re done with checking out Vinnie’s place.’
Tia appeared at my desk with another package and a grim frown locked firmly in place. ‘It’s for you.’ She practically threw it at me like it was on fire and stood behind Hacker, peering over his shoulder. ‘It just came by courier.’
It wasn’t a Jiffy bag this time; it was a proper package, and had the same block capital letters scrawled on it.
Uh-oh!
‘I’ll open it.’ Brad snatched if out of my hands.
‘Good, because I really don’t want to open it.’ I pointed at the package with a shaky finger. ‘What if there are more spiders in there?’
‘Could be another nose,’ Hacker said.
Tia gasped. ‘Of course it can’t be another nose. That would mean some poor dead person had two noses.’ Then she clapped a hand over her mouth. ‘Oh! I see what you mean. Two dead people missing noses.’ She shuddered. ‘Gosh.’
As soon as Brad tore the package open, I could smell rotting flesh.
Hacker leaned over his desk for a better look.
Tia cowered behind him.
I stared at the package with morbid fascination.
‘Fuck!’ I said as Brad held it up to show me the contents.
Inside was the head of a fox, complete with fur, eyes, ears, and…nose.
I tried to swallow down the golf ball sized lump in my throat that had suddenly sprung up.
‘This has got to be Vinnie, and I’m going to love finding something on him.’ Brad’s eyes showed a hint of steely determination in them, and I could see something simmering away underneath the surface. He wrapped the package back up and threw it in a bin liner.
‘Poor fox!’ I said.
‘You ready to go to Vinnie’s?’ Brad asked me, the muscles along his jaw tight. Any tighter and they’d snap.
I jumped up, consumed with anger that Vinnie had killed a poor, defenceless animal just for his twisted pleasure. Aside from the fact that Fox was my surname, I loved foxes. It felt like a blast of steam was about to explode out of my head. I was going to get Vinnie back if it was the last thing I did.
‘I’m ready. Can I do something to Vinnie, seeing as he’s doing this to me and doing horrible things to foxes?’ I gave a Hacker a pleading look.
‘What? Hacker asked.
‘Go on, can’t you do just an ickle tiny bit of Voodoo on him for me? Go on, go on, pleaaaaaaase.’
Hacker wagged a finger at me, shaking his head.
I groaned. ‘What about zombiefying him? Zombiefying would be OK, wouldn’t it?’
‘I told you what happens if you do it. You get it back three times worse. If you want to take the chance it’s up to you, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.’
Damn. I stuck out my lower lip in a disappointed pout. What was the point of having a superhuman power if you never got to use it?
‘What about you, Tia? Can you see any horrible psychic premonition about Vinnie getting a nasty dose of Ebola or something?’ I asked.
‘Sorry, Amber. I can’t just turn on the psychic stuff at will.’
‘Damn. I could do with some psychic help to solve this case.’ I frowned. ‘You could do a spell to make him turn into a mouse or something. Then he’d get eaten by a fox and that would be rough justice for him.’
Tia shook her head. ‘I can’t do bad spells. Even for bad people. I have to do good ones.’
‘Don’t worry, Foxy. What goes around comes around. Vinnie will get what’s owing to him when this case is over.’ Brad’s voice was calm, but the threat behind his words wasn’t lost on me.
‘OK,’ I groaned, grabbing my rucksack. ‘Got your tool?’ I raised an eyebrow at Brad.
‘I’ve got it, and I’m ready to use it.’
‘Oh, wait.’ I picked up the phone on my desk. ‘I need to make a quick call to Dad. What’s good for making a dog poop? I still need to get the photo of Deborah’s burglar off Dad’s memory card. He could be the same man who killed her and the same one who organized the bank robbery. I need to get it sooner rather than later.’
Everyone shrugged.
I punched in my parents’ number. ‘Hi, Dad. Has Sabre pooped yet?’
He groaned. ‘No. The vet said I can give him laxatives if he’s constipated, so I’m going to give him some in a minute.’
‘OK, let me know what happens.’
‘Do you want the full, gory details or a
n abridged version?’
‘The minuscule version.’ I hung up.
****
‘Hacker has disabled Vinnie’s security system so the alarm, electronic gates, and CCTV cameras won’t work,’ Brad said as we parked up the road from Vinnie’s mansion in a dark side street. ‘He said it was a pretty sophisticated system. It had a hidden back up in place in case anyone hacked in to disable it, but it wasn’t a match for Hacker.’
We made our way silently on foot to the front gates and Brad swung them open. Since Vinnie’s estate was made private by masses of trees and bushes, we’d be safe from prying eyes on the street. The only problem we might encounter was if someone was still at home.
It was now 8 p.m. and the sky was black and murky. The only light came from the full moon, filtering through the patchy clouds.
Full moon. Spooky. I shook off any crazy ideas about werewolves and vampires and concentrated on trying to walk on the gravel without making a sound. Somehow Brad managed it OK.
The whole house was in darkness. On the one hand, I took that as a good sign that there was no one home. On the other hand, it made the place feel more sinister. And even though I had my SIG stuffed in the back of my jeans, I was wearing my Wonder Woman knickers, and had Karate Combat Action Man next to me, I didn’t particularly relish the thought of getting caught. I knew Vinnie and his cronies were suspected of killing and maiming a fair few people in his rise to the top. People who stood in his way. People who turned against him. He went psycho over someone touching his cat, so he’d have no qualms about adding people who broke into his house on his list. The vision of the nose popped into my head again and I gave an involuntary shiver.
We made our way around to the back of the house and Brad used his open sesame lock-picking tool on the back door. The wind whipped up, making the branches in the trees tremble with an eerie scratching sound.
With one small click, the door opened.
I pulled my Maglite torch out as we wandered through a games room and flashed it around. Not much in here apart from the usual boys’ toys type things. A snooker table, a jukebox, a poker table, a cabinet with lots of alcohol inside.
Next up was the living room we’d been in before. Not much in there except for the antique writing bureau, and that held nothing exciting apart from a bumper pack of toffees. I ate one and stuffed the wrapper in my pocket.
Take that, VD!
The office was next, and this was much more interesting. Expensive thick-pile cream carpet. Oil paintings of cats on the walls with scary eyes that followed you around the room. Filing cabinets galore. An antique desk with six drawers. On top was a fax machine, a shredding machine, a phone, and a small brass box with Casper - the world’s best cat inscribed on it. No laptop or computer, though. Vinnie didn’t strike me as a modern technology kind of guy. I was surprised he could manage to work the fax. Maybe that was Thuggy’s job. No, thinking about it, I doubted if he could even read the instructions.
I shone a torch on the filing cabinets as we rifled through.
Vinnie’s tax returns, another bumper pack of toffees, photos of Vinnie with various fighters and celebrities, contracts between Vinnie and several other people I’d never heard of. Boring. Although I was impressed with the tax returns. I was pretty surprised that Vinnie actually filed them. Maybe he’d learned a lesson from watching an Al Capone film.
‘Levi’s contract has got to be in here,’ I said impatiently.
‘It’s not.’ Brad slid the last drawer closed and we turned our attention to the desk.
I rummaged in the drawers. Lots of toffees (I’m surprised all his teeth hadn’t fallen out), biros, staples, paper clips, legal documents, and stationery, but no contract.
‘There’s got to be something in here.’ I eyed the brass box on top of the desk. It was the only thing we hadn’t checked.
I lifted it up and tried to open the lid. It was a bit stiff, like it had been sitting there unused for a long time. I yanked the lid as hard as I could and it suddenly popped and flew off with the momentum of my tugging.
‘Oh, crap!’ I said, watching the black dusty ash from inside fly all over the desk and onto the cream carpet. ‘I think that was one of Vinnie’s cat’s ashes.’ My jaw flew open involuntarily as I took in the scene. It looked like Mount Vesuvius had just erupted everywhere on a windy night.
‘Shit.’ Brad stared at the carpet.
Much as I hated Vinnie, poor Casper was now scattered all over the room. What if he haunted me for it? I had enough bad luck without being haunted by a poor little moggie whose resting place had been disturbed. Also, if I didn’t get it cleared up pronto, Vinnie would know someone had been in his house. And it wouldn’t take him long to guess it was me.
‘Did you see a Hoover anywhere?’ I asked Brad.
Brad blinked a couple of times. ‘No, but we haven’t checked all the house yet.’
‘This place is huge, it could be anywhere. You check the kitchen and I’ll check the utility room. We haven’t looked in there yet.’ My brain cranked into panic mode as I flew out the door.
I could hear Brad opening and closing cupboards in the kitchen as I searched the utility room next door.
I pulled open one cupboard.
A mop and bucket.
Next cupboard.
A washing basket and sundry washing liquids.
Shit!
Next cupboard.
A monster bag of dried cat food.
Next cupboard.
Hurrah!
A Dyson!
‘Got it!’ I yelled and dragged it towards the office as fast as its little wheels would go.
Brad came in behind me as I plugged it in, switched it to turbo mode, put on a pointy nozzle and vacuumed the surface of the desk for dear life.
I watched the sooty ashes getting sucked up into the clear cylinder of the Dyson at speed.
So far so good.
The only thing left on the desk was just a hint of dust.
I turned my attention to the cream carpet. I had a sneaking suspicion this was going to be more difficult.
Back and forth I went over the carpet like I’d had an overdose of speed until my arm started aching.
When I finally stood back and surveyed the carpet, it looked as good as new. ‘Wow! I think I need one of these. They have superb sucking ability.’
Brad raised an eyebrow at me as he wiped over the desk with his elbow to get rid of any dusty residue.
‘Now I have to put the ashes from the cylinder back in the brass box.’ I bent down and peered at the clear cylinder. ‘Uh-oh.’
‘What?’ Brad stopped wiping and looked at me.
‘Vinnie must’ve been using the Dyson for vacuuming up spilled crisps.’ I narrowed my eyes at the cylinder. Jumbled up in between poor Casper’s ashes were about a million crisp crumbs. It would take about three weeks to pick that lot out.
‘We haven’t got time to get rid of the crisps’ Brad said. ‘We’ll just put all of it back in the box and hope he never notices. I bet Vinnie never looks in there anyway. And if Thuggy looks in there, he’d just think Casper ate a bag of crisps before he died.’
I nodded firmly. ‘You’re right. My auntie had her dog cremated and the ashes put in one of these boxes in a display cabinet. She never ever looked inside. I often wondered, you know, how she knew it was really her dog in there and not someone else’s. I mean, how can you be sure? What if she thought she had Jonathon’s ashes in her box but really they were from Tiger the cat?’ I undid the latch from the cylinder and released it, taking it and the box outside to pour the contents in. No way was I going to go through that again if I spilt some more on the carpet.
As it happens, I did spill some on the grass as I completed the transfer, but the wind was really whipping up now, so it was pretty safe to say no one would notice.
I breathlessly replaced the Dyson in the utility room and put the box back on Vinnie’s desk. There, as good as new. Unless you counted the crisps.
‘Your aunt named her dog Jonathon?’ Brad stared up at the oil paintings on the wall with a look of concentration on his face.
‘Yep. She’s Dad’s sister. She got the crazy genes, too. I’m glad it wasn’t just me.’ I followed Brad’s gaze. ‘Hmm. If he went to the trouble of putting a copy in his safety box, he’d want to make sure any other copies were hidden pretty well, wouldn’t he?
Brad lifted the corner of the first painting, checking behind it.
The wall was bare.
I tried another one.
Nothing, apart from some cobwebs.
Brad went to the third one and lifted the corner. He grinned at me. ‘Here’s his safe.’ He lifted the painting off the wall, resting it on the floor.
I peered over Brad’s shoulder.
A safe about fifty centimetres square stared back at us. It had a keypad with letters on it.
Ooh, hello.
‘What do you think the code is?’ I asked.
Brad shrugged. ‘Could be anything.’
I pursed my lips together and tapped my foot. ‘OK, if most people have to use letters for a password, it’s normally something like their kid’s or partner’s name.’
Brad glanced at me. ‘Vinnie hasn’t got any kids. And who would want to be his girlfriend?’
‘Myra Hindley?’
‘I bet they’d have a lovely conversation over dinner.’
‘OK, what else?’ I stared at the safe, concentrating on it so hard in the hope that the password would somehow be telepathically sent into my brain.
Brad folded his arms and stared at it. ‘What about his mum’s name?’
‘Good idea. Except I don’t have a clue what it is.’ I pulled my mobile out of my pocket, rang Hacker and waited on the line while he conjured up the information from the depths of cyberspace.