The Downfall Series Box Set

by Edie Baylis

  FIFTY ONE

  JANE SAT SILENTLY IN the back of one of the limousines following the Daimler hearse to Sheila’s funeral. Bill was in the first car along with Sheila’s children and grandchildren and she, Seth and Barry followed in the second. Phil and Digger brought up the rear on their noisy choppers.

  She tried to ignore the ever present sexual tension between her and Seth and thought instead about Phil. He’d arrived last night and had clearly been briefed of her presence, greeting her with a massive bear hug.

  Filing into the church, Jane took her allotted place on the second row of pews and watched sadly as Sheila’s coffin was carried in by Bill, Phil, Seth and another man of whom she presumed was the husband of one of Sheila’s daughters.

  As the coffin was placed on the trestle and the vicar took his place, the men sat down at the ends of the first two pews.

  Seth had no choice but to squash in next to Jane and he looked equally uncomfortable about this as she was. She couldn’t allow their personal feelings to cause any problems for anyone else today of all days. It certainly wasn’t the time or the place. This problem was theirs and theirs alone.

  She tried her best not to fidget even though one side of Seth’s body was pressed tightly against hers, his hard leg muscles squashed against her thigh and the burning heat seared though her fitted black suit.

  Jane’s eyes moved to Bill. He’d been holding it together very well this past week, but knew today would be exceptionally hard for him. He’d seemed more at peace since he’d set the date for Carter’s removal - for the day after he’d buried Sheila. Tomorrow. It was all set and ready to go.

  There had been no repercussions regarding Ben either. Digger had worked his usual magic of disposing of the body without a trace, so that was done and dusted.

  Jane stole a glance up at the statue of Jesus on the cross by the altar and grimaced, feeling a sudden paranoia that the whole lot of them might be struck dead by a freak bolt of lightning at any moment given their long list of terrible misdeeds.

  As for Seth, that was a different story. Since the incident at her house when he’d been that close to kissing her, despite their close proximity in the frequent meetings since to sort out both the funeral and the Carter arrangements, there had been a huge gulf between them which seemed wasn’t going to change. Despite this, it hadn’t altered the heavy suffocating tension between them which was escalating daily.

  Hearing the organ crank up for the first hymn, Jane unsteadily rose to her feet and leant on the pew in front for support and shivered as another bolt of electricity shot through her when Seth’s arm brushed against hers.

  SETH HATED SINGING and hymns were the worst. He was also glad now the service was almost over, so the temptation to crash his mouth onto Jane’s would be removed.

  He kept his eyes resolutely trained past the vicar’s head to a point in the distance and tried to listen when various people gave readings in Sheila’s memory.

  Seth readjusted himself on the hard wooden pew to get some circulation flowing into his backside, acutely aware of Jane’s presence. He stole a glance at her stockinged legs crossed over each other, her patent stilettoes gracefully sitting on her dainty feet and he swallowed uncomfortably. He fidgeted once more, feeling hideously guilty having a raging erection at a funeral.

  Sighing, he glanced sideways watching Jane’s eyes focus on Sheila’s coffin and a silent tear roll down her pale cheek. Before he could stop himself, he reached for her hand and grabbed it.

  Giving it a quick squeeze Seth then tried to pull away, but felt her fingers fold around his, her hand fitting within his so perfectly like it always had done. He found himself leaving his hand where it was and relishing the feel of her soft skin. Her hand belonged in his.

  The throbbing in Seth’s groin had grown relentless by the time the vicar closed the service and reluctantly he forced himself to drop Jane’s hand to ready himself in helping to carry Sheila’s coffin to the graveside.

  EVERYONE WAS SOLEMN standing around the grave as Sheila’s coffin was lowered slowly into the ground. Jane was standing opposite Seth and he watched her intently as the tears rolled freely down her face. He wanted to take her in his arms and protect her. Shield her from all this pain.

  Sensing others approach the graveside gathering, he glanced up and could hardly believe his eyes when Ernie Carter and two of his henchmen casually joined the group.

  Seth’s body was on red alert, poised ready to bludgeon Carter to death, but held fast. It was not his call to take that pleasure from Bill, plus it couldn’t be done here.

  He could just not fathom the gall of a man who’d have the cheek to turn up at the funeral of the person he’d murdered and stand there bold as brass.

  He looked at Jane who’d also seen Carter and by the expressions on the faces of Barry and the others, they all had too. Luckily everyone was far too professional to react.

  Bill waited until it was time for him to sprinkle earth over the lowered coffin and as he stepped forward, he whispered to Seth. “The plan needs to be brought forward. To now. After we leave here.”

  Seth gave him an almost imperceptible nod. “Understood,” he muttered.

  Knowing all the other’s eyes were on him, having seen his exchange with Bill, Seth knew by also giving them a slight nod of his head, they would automatically know what it signified.

  JANE’S ANGER INCREASED fourfold watching Carter approach Bill as they walked away from the grave, leaving the gravediggers to pile the earth on top of Sheila’s coffin. She felt like running up to him and ripping his eyeballs out.

  “Condolences, Bill,” Carter said loudly, patting Bill on the back.

  How Bill kept his cool Jane could not understand and glanced at Barry, whose jaw was clenched so tightly with hatred she was surprised it hadn’t snapped.

  Seth stared with his cold green eyes at Carter and Jane could feel the need for payback rising from him like a miasma. She took in his big frame, his overcoat sitting perfectly over his suit. He looked every bit the vicious killer that he was. And she wanted every inch of him.

  Taking a deep breath, Jane followed the party out from the churchyard and her heart rate accelerated knowing what her part was to be in the events that would follow. She was looking forward to it beyond measure. The men would easily get around the impromptu change of plans. They had no choice. It had to be done today after the stunt Carter had just pulled and they would be able to pull off what was needed without having to exchange a word with each other.

  Jane had to admit she was unsure how they would achieve this in front of the three hundred plus who’d be making their way to the Glint for the wake, or with no one noticing they were all, including Bill, missing.

  Carter got into his Jaguar with his henchmen accompanying him, whilst Seth, Barry, Digger and Phil exchanged glances with each other, letting Bill finish shaking the hands of the mourners and telling them to proceed to the club.

  ERNIE CARTER HAD SOMEHOW managed to refrain from laughing out loud watching the facial expressions of Benson and his bunch of silverbacks when he’d rocked up at the tart’s funeral, but now he was safely ensconced in the back of his Jag it had been more than safe to let rip with his mirth.

  He’d been in such a good mood he’d even let Matt drive. Probably a good job being as he was crying with laughter and the tears were rolling down his cheeks. Still chuckling to himself, he blindly fished in his pocket looking for a handkerchief he could use to mop at his eyes.

  Ernie’s laughter caused Matt and Pete to smile from the front of the car. Matt was more than pleased he’d been granted the go-ahead to drive Carter’s beloved Jag and gratifyingly pushed his foot down further on the accelerator.

  “I think we’ve got company...” Pete suddenly muttered as he glanced in the wing mirror.

  Looking in the rear view mirror as they turned to take a cut through the industrial estate, Matt spotted a white van close behind them and two motorbikes closing in either side. “Oh sh
it!” he hissed, knowing full well who was on their tail.

  “What is it?” Ernie muttered, not wishing to embarrass himself by blatantly looking out of the back windscreen.

  “It’s Benson’s lot,” Matt replied, applying more pressure to the accelerator, well aware the bikes were beginning to hem them in.

  “Put your foot down then!” Ernie snapped. He hadn’t got time to play around with Benson’s bunch of jokers today.

  “I have,” Matt muttered through gritted teeth. “But they’re closing in.”

  “Don’t damage my fucking car whatever you do!” Ernie roared.

  As one of the bikers delivered a hard kick to the passenger side of the Jaguar, Pete almost shot out of his seat. “Christ!”

  “Fucking hell!” Ernie screamed. “My fucking door!”

  Glancing rapidly in all directions, it quickly dawned on Matt that they’d been forced down one of the many small side streets which culminated in a dead end. “Bollocks!” he snarled, slamming the brakes on hard.

  “What the hell are you doing, you clown?” Ernie screeched, watching the van pull up diagonally behind them whilst the bikes stopped at alternating angles in front of the car.

  “Well, it was either that or smash into the brick wall,” Matt responded defensively, pointing at the imposing red brick wall of an old factory in front of them.

  “Lock the doors and then back it round,” Ernie yelled, hastily fumbling with the lock on his door seeing Barry get out of the van.

  Unable to react fast enough, Matt had very little choice when the door was opened and the keys were snatched from the ignition. As the door slammed loudly in Matt’s face, Ernie was manhandled out from the back.

  They could do nothing but watch whilst Ernie was thrown in the Transit and the button of the Jaguar’s key fob pressed, locking them inside the car.

  Matt thumped pointlessly against the bullet-proof glass Ernie had insisted on having fitted, whilst the bikers backed their machines up against the wall of the factory. “Let us the fuck out!” he screamed.

  Taking his crash helmet off, Phil casually hung it on his handlebars and smiled at Digger who was doing likewise. They looked at Barry, who satisfied Carter would be going nowhere for a while, stepped out from back of the van with a petrol can and locked the door behind him.

  “All yours boys,” Barry smiled.

  Digger took the petrol can from Barry and liberally doused the Jag with fuel. The soundless shouts of Matt and Pete as they futilely pounded the thickened glass only brought more of a smile to his face.

  Bending down, he tapped on the window and smiled widely. “Alright lads?” he shouted. “Having a nice time are we?”

  Satisfied the car was good to go, Digger stepped back and let Phil do the honours of lighting the match.

  As the fire quickly took hold, rapidly engulfing the thrashing prisoners in fiery orange flames within the car, Digger, Phil and Barry leant back against the Transit for a ringside seat.

  After five minutes and satisfied the people whose flesh had melted off before their very eyes wouldn’t be making a return appearance, Digger and Phil fired up their bikes and headed to the Glint, leaving Barry to put in a call to their trusted car-crusher acquaintance for a pick-up job before delivering Carter to his final destination.

  FIFTY TWO

  JANE WATCHED SETH STANDING next to Bill in the Glint’s cellar. Seth shrugged off his black double-breasted suit jacket and began cracking his knuckles in anticipation. His whole being was focused on what lay ahead and she almost smiled. She could even see the ring of black deepening against the green of his eyes and her heart rate went up a notch knowing he was well in the zone.

  Bill seemed amazingly calm and looked almost happy. He smiled at Jane. “You alright, girl?”

  “Never better,” Jane replied. She was looking forward to this. Very much. “How’s it going upstairs?” Well aware Sheila’s wake was in full swing she knew it wouldn’t be too long before their absence was noted, especially Bill’s.

  “It’s going fine. I’ve showed my face a couple of times and as long as I do that occasionally, no one will be too concerned,” Bill smiled.

  Jane nodded. It was true. Hundreds of people were upstairs paying their respects to Sheila and the Glint was such a big place that if Bill wasn’t visible, people would assume he was mingling.

  Hearing the metal fire door slam, Seth looked up, his eyes narrow slits. “Sounds like they’re here...”

  Bill stood rigid and in silence as Ernie Carter was dragged down the stone steps into the cellar, courtesy of Barry and Digger.

  Roughly shoved into a chair, Carter was quickly tied to it. This was all done quietly and without struggle, due to the duct tape covering his mouth and his bound hands and feet. Only his eyes showed the panic he was experiencing.

  Getting the nod from Bill, Digger ripped the duct tape from Carter’s mouth and without giving him any chance to start howling, quickly shoved a funnel deep into his throat.

  Seth approached. “How you doing then, Carter? Alright? Thought you could maybe use a drink?”

  He lifted a small barrel of beer from the cellar floor and while Barry held Carter’s head at an angle over the back of the chair, he began pouring it into the wide brim of the funnel.

  “Now don’t fucking spill any will you?” Seth hissed, pinching Carter’s nose closed.

  At first Ernie tried to regurgitate as much beer as possible from his mouth and throat, but unable to keep up with the steady flow, soon began to choke. Spluttering and gagging he began to thrash around, but only succeeded in rocking the chair about.

  “Hold still!” Seth growled, trying to judge how much longer it would be before they needed to remove the funnel. Drowning Carter at this stage wasn’t what Bill wanted. There was much more to do to the bastard yet.

  When Carter’s eyes bulged from their sockets and his choking noises became less, Seth realised now was the time. Giving Digger the nod, he watched as the funnel was wrenched out.

  Tipping him over at an angle on the chair, Seth smiled as Carter coughed and heaved, finally inhaling air into his grateful lungs.

  Yanking his head back, Seth quickly striped both sides of Carter’s face with his blade and casually watched as the skin split deeply over his cheekbones and oozed blood. “Better?” he growled. “Now would you like to explain yourself?”

  Howling in pain, Ernie desperately looked around the room for anything that might aid his escape, but knew in his heart it was fruitless. Sweat poured from his brow and mixed with the blood running freely down his face.

  Barry stepped forward. “I always had a lot of time for Sheila,” he hissed inches from Carter’s face. “And what you did to her was unforgivable.”

  Ernie remained silent, his eyes showing a hint of defiance.

  Barry pulled a blade from an inside pocket and dropped the sheath to the floor. Pulling his jacket off and rolling up the sleeves of his shirt, he smiled nastily. “Have you got anything to say for yourself? Nothing in your fucking poxy defence then, Carter?”

  Ernie sneered. Were they saying he could walk from here if he spoke? He very much doubted it. Plus it would take a lot more than what they’d done to make him contrite.

  “Your sad monkey sidekicks can’t help you now Carter,” Barry continued.

  Ernie stared into Barry’s eyes and remained frustratingly silent.

  Barry glanced at Bill and could see he was struggling to keep his cool in check. A prominent vein in his neck throbbed visibly against his tightly clenched jaw.

  Ernie managed a slight sarcastic laugh. “I was only trying to help,” he smiled. “Benson’s reputation would have been finished if he’d married a hooker.”

  Phil put a hand on his father’s arm when Bill lurched forward, knowing he wanted to finish Carter here and now. “Wait!” he hissed. “Don’t rise to his shit.”

  Barry quickly raised the blade in his hand and relished the flicker of fear visible once more in Carter’s eyes.
“You’re all talk you are. I pity you being such a fucking failure with no respect,” he chuckled, proud he hadn’t stabbed the bastard countless times in the chest already. “You’ve always got your fucking big nose in everyone’s business haven’t you,” he growled. “That’s never a good thing to do. I’ll help you out shall? Stop you from doing this sort of shit to yourself?”

  Lining his blade up under Carter’s nostrils, Barry waited as Seth held Carter’s head steady. Without further delay, he pushed the knife upwards, cleanly cutting off the man’s nose.

  As blood sprayed forward, Ernie yelled in agony, just two holes remaining in place of his nose which had been sheared off flush with his face.

  Jane smiled watching Carter’s pain. She couldn’t wait for it to be her turn. She glanced at Seth and felt a flutter as he winked at her. It felt almost like old times. Quickly reminding herself there was a hell of a lot missing for it to be like the old times, she realised now was not the time to dwell on it.

  Phil moved forward and swiftly kicked the chair Carter was secured to backwards and he hit the concrete floor heavily. “I think you’re up now Jane,” he smiled.

  Jane felt even more gratified seeing a puddle of piss form underneath Carter. So it had finally sunk in they meant business? “Think he could do with a commode,” she quipped whilst Phil roughly yanked Carter’s trousers down.

  She looked at the man lying on his back, tied to the chair and grimaced. What a fucking state.

  “NO!” Ernie wailed, watching Jane bring a blow torch to life. “What are you doing?”

  Stepping forward Jane smiled, her eyes cold. “What you deserve,” she scowled, staring at the creepy mess his face now was. “You’re a disgusting cunt Carter!” She slapped him hard. Ok, so it wouldn’t cause much pain considering what he’d just experienced, but she needed to add that little bit of extra contempt to what she was about to do.

  She ran her eyes over his mottled naked legs and grimaced at his flaccid cock shrivelling with fear in front of her own eyes. “Not much of a catch are you?” Jane hissed and raised the blow torch. “And I promise you that you’ll not be using that on anyone else again.”