He Knows Your Secrets

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He Knows Your Secrets Page 14

by Charlie Gallagher


  ‘And Freddie Rickman? You think I should just let him go? We know he’s a criminal.’

  ‘We do. We have done for a long time, it seems. But there’s nothing linking this event to him — or to anyone else. There’s no real evidence of foul play, either. Rickman has been arrested five times previously and walked out of custody shortly after each time. I’d sooner not have any involvement in his sixth cameo.’

  ‘The ashtray? It has bits of hair and blood on it. The CSI report says it could have been used as a weapon.’

  ‘I was there when Charley talked about it. She also said that it was loose inside the car when it dropped six hundred feet in a second. It could have struck the passengers as part of the fall. Certainly she couldn’t rule it out. That’s not a clear pointer for foul play, nor does it link Freddie Rickman in any way. Maybe it even points away . . . When he took over that taxi firm he changed the name. You could argue that the ashtray points to whoever owned it before. And we’ve nothing that puts Rickman anywhere near that car. Instead we have a witness who saw the whole thing and confirms no one else was even on that clifftop.’

  ‘Maybe it was supposed to point to how he took it over?’

  ‘Is there any relevance in that?’

  ‘Not that I’ve found yet.’

  ‘You’re clutching at straws.’

  ‘Two people died, Harry. We owe it to them to know how.’

  ‘We know how.’

  ‘You know what I mean.’

  ‘I know they’re dead.’

  ‘What does that mean?’

  ‘What are you trying to achieve here?’

  Maddie looked at the clock above where Harry was now sitting in his chair and started moving paperwork around as if his interest was already elsewhere. It was just a few minutes off midday. She wasn’t going to convince him of anything while standing there and she certainly didn’t have time to try. ‘You know what? I was just trying to see if the dog downstairs had softened that exterior of yours. I see he hasn’t. Don’t worry, I won’t be wasting much more time on this.’ She felt her face flush as she stepped towards the door.

  ‘This afternoon it is, Maddie. Unless you turn something up. Tell me you understand.’ His growl was deeper than usual. He was angry. Maddie didn’t care about upsetting him, but she would rather avoid him working against her.

  ‘Understood,’ she snapped. She kept moving. Right now she needed to get somewhere where she could talk openly and she didn’t want to still be annoyed when she did it. She would put Harry out of her mind — the whole investigation, in fact — if only for a few minutes.

  She walked out of the station and took a sharp right. There was a wall that was high enough to conceal her from anyone looking out of the window. She didn’t know why she was being so careful; it wasn’t like anyone would be able to tell that she was taking a call on her personal phone from a career criminal — and former lover. She ducked behind the wall just the same. 11:59 hours. Her phone went off.

  ‘Hello.’

  ‘Mads!’

  The same wave of emotion swept through her. She leaned back against the wall. ‘Sorry, I couldn’t talk, I was with someone.’

  ‘And now?’

  ‘And now I’m not . . . Jesus, Adam . . .’

  ‘I know. It’s been a while.’

  ‘How are you?’

  ‘Slower!’ Adam chuckled. Maddie laughed with him. ‘I’m having speech therapy, would you believe. I forgot everything . . . how to walk . . . how to talk . . . but not you, Mads. I never forgot you.’

  Maddie bit down hard. ‘Okay then.’

  ‘Okay, then?’

  ‘I came to see you. When you were in hospital. Before your family came down. I managed to blag my way in. They thought I was your sister!’

  ‘I know.’

  ‘You know?’

  ‘I mean, not at the time! And no one else does — don’t worry. Someone told me a story about some confusion when they all turned up. The staff and the cops wouldn’t let my actual sister in for quite a while. They ran her ID a couple of times.’

  ‘I must have been more believable!’

  ‘You did me a massive favour! She’s a pain in the arse, Mads.’

  ‘My pleasure.’

  ‘Did you kiss me?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Did you kiss me? When I was in hospital. Before you left?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘I knew it!’

  ‘You were unconscious. How could you?’

  ‘I just did. You’re the type to take advantage. You never could keep your hands off me!’

  Maddie laughed hard. She swiped tears that had welled up in her joy. It had been almost eighteen months. She had no real idea how he had been left from his injuries and here he was, remembering her, calling her and making her laugh. Just like he always could.

  ‘How are you?’ she managed eventually.

  ‘I’m getting there. It’s gradual. I’ve got my head around that now. I’m walking but I still have to think about it. My speech is still slow, you’ve probably noticed that.’

  ‘Hardly,’ Maddie lied.

  ‘It’s okay, I’ve got used to that too.’

  ‘Where are you?’

  ‘Home. Not far out of the city. My mum’s looking after me. Still the same place but she’s here a lot. She’s all that’s left.’

  ‘I wish . . . it shouldn’t be like that.’

  ‘It has to be like this. There’s no one else that can be here, everyone has their own lives to be getting on with.’

  ‘You mean me?’

  ‘You more than anyone. You did the right thing — distancing yourself, I mean. I’d never have forgiven myself if you had done something silly.’

  ‘I would have got us both killed.’

  ‘You would.’

  ‘I still would.’

  ‘It’s not like it was but, yeah, we still need to be careful.’

  ‘Can you come down? Like before?’

  ‘No. Not yet at least.’

  ‘I meant when you’re stronger.’

  ‘I don’t know. I mean . . . yes.’

  ‘But?’

  ‘No buts. It will be a few months until I could even think about it. I’m starting to take trips out — short ones. I’ll need to build up to a long trip down there, especially with all your counter-surveillance demands! But I will, if you want me too. I just wanted . . . I just wanted to call. To hear your voice. And to tell you that I know.’

  ‘You know? You know what?’

  ‘That you took advantage of me in my hospital bed!’

  Maddie’s laughter returned. ‘I’d do it again.’

  Adam was still laughing too. ‘I’ll bear that in mind. Thanks for talking to me.’

  ‘Thanks for—’

  The click told her he had gone. There was no number left to call him back even if she wanted to. That was a good thing. It would prevent her even having the option. But he had. She had no idea when he would call back or even if he would. Just like always.

  She stretched as she walked back towards the police station. When she got close enough to the entrance door to catch her reflection, she was still smiling.

  Chapter 20

  Kelly saw Libby before she saw her. She was standing against a brick wall that fashioned a sort of square that housed the bins for the building. She stood facing her. Even from a distance she looked scared. She snatched her head up as Kelly approached.

  ‘Hey.’

  Libby looked almost frozen rigid against the wall. She slumped a little now. ‘You came!’

  Kelly smiled. ‘Of course I came. I was the one telling you how important it was to be here. I could hardly do all that and not turn up!’

  ‘And I have to do this again. There’s no other way?’

  ‘There isn’t. But this is the last time. I have a plan to get us both away from this.’

  ‘A plan?’

  ‘Yes. I have a car round the corner. From here we go straight to the polic
e station.’

  ‘Police station?’ Libby’s eyes lit up. Her voice was louder too, and Kelly’s attention flicked towards the building. Libby picked up on it.

  ‘Sorry, I shouldn’t be saying that out loud, right? You said we couldn’t talk about the police around these people.’

  ‘We should be okay here but, yeah, you don’t want to be talking about that any closer. We just need to get this done.’

  ‘So why can’t we go now?’ Her voice was whiny, pleading, and Kelly was reminded how young she was, how fragile. They’d had a rushed conversation yesterday when they were leaving the building. Libby had mentioned the police and Kelly had been quick to talk her out of it. Marlie’s visit had changed everything, but they still had to be clever. Once they were done today, they wouldn’t be expected back for at least twenty-four hours. That should be enough time for them both to get safe.

  ‘We can’t go now. There’s no time. We are expected to work in a few minutes. Once we come back out we will have time to get far enough away. If we went now and didn’t show up . . . It’s not just you and me either. These people will go looking for us and they know my friends. They don’t ask questions in a nice way. Everyone needs time to prepare.’

  ‘Work?’ Libby seemed to have only picked up on one word. ‘That’s what we’re doing, is it?’

  ‘You got your wage?’ Kelly knew she had. She had seen her pick it up from the same table where she had scooped up her own. It was an identical envelope. Benny had told her what it was, he had given her the same spiel everyone got: don’t spend it all at once, don’t start sticking it in the bank every week or flashing it around on social media or in front of your mum. Basically it amounted to don’t do anything that shows up as earnings from something illicit. She remembered when she first received money for her performances as a cam girl. She almost felt lucky. She wouldn’t have argued if they had made her do it for free — she’d been so scared. But she soon realised why they paid: it was all part of the power Freddie had over you; it made it more difficult to argue but it also made you more dependant.

  ‘Your wage?’ Kelly repeated. ‘The envelope?’

  ‘Is that what it was?’ Libby shuddered. ‘I just threw it in the drawer.’

  Kelly stepped in and took hold of her gently by the arms. ‘It’s going to be okay. This is it. We do the same as we did yesterday and then we’re out. We keep our mouths shut and we go straight from here to speak to the people who can get us safe. That’s it.’

  ‘That’s it.’ Libby repeated back, again like a child taking in instructions. ‘And we can’t just go now?’

  This time Kelly just wrapped her up in a hug. Partly to try and comfort her, partly to hide her frustrated scowl. As part of the embrace she caught an odour. Stale clothes perhaps, generally unwashed. She stepped back and looked at Libby closer. She looked dishevelled, a layer of grime on her face and hands, her hair unkempt.

  ‘Have you been home?’

  ‘For a little while, but I couldn’t stay. I ended up sleeping out. I didn’t want to wake up any of my mates . . . what would I tell them? And I can’t be at home. My mum . . . I just can’t!’ Her voice was raised again like she was starting to panic. Kelly still held her by the shoulders.

  ‘It’s fine . . . it’s okay. Later today we get this all sorted. You can tell the police everything and then we can work out what we do about your mum. But we need to get you cleaned up. Freddie . . . they won’t like it.’ Kelly opened the bag she had slung over her shoulder. She always kept a few make-up bits in there, a hairbrush, too. She had learned the hard way to keep something like that on her. She pulled out a small packet of wet wipes. Libby immediately recoiled.

  ‘Why should I? Why should I clean myself up for them? For those pieces of shit on the other end of that computer? The things they ask . . . the things they want . . .’

  ‘You shouldn’t have to. I know that. But we just need to play this game once more and that means playing by their rules. Where did you stay last night?’

  ‘Out. A bench for a bit, then a bus stop when it rained.’

  ‘Do you have somewhere you can go later?’ Kelly said and regretted it instantly. She was struggling to look after herself right now; the last thing she needed was someone else around.

  ‘I don’t know. I haven’t thought about it, really. I just want to get this over with.’

  ‘That sounds like a good idea.’

  Kelly stepped away from the cover of the wall to peer up at the building. The curtains to Flat 12 were shut. A check of her watch showed that they had ten minutes. It was the earliest she had ever arrived and it was just as well; now they had time to get Libby cleaned up.

  ‘Just follow my lead. One of the spare flats on the floor above has a shower we can use. I’ll speak to Benny. You’ll only have a few minutes but that’s enough for a quick freshen up. It will make you feel better.’

  ‘I don’t want to shower in there. I don’t want to go in there.’

  ‘I know. Me neither. This is it, though — remember that. We play their game then we get ourselves safe and they get what they deserve as part of the deal. You have to trust me.’

  Kelly moved out towards the entrance. She didn’t look back, she didn’t want to give any more opportunities to talk about the virtues of entering that building. They were going to have to. Both of them.

  She stopped at the door. She saw movement the other side: Benny.

  ‘You’re early,’ Benny said. The expected leering smile was missing. ‘Both of you.’

  Libby stepped in next to her. Kelly felt an arm pushed through hers where Libby held onto her.

  ‘We need to use the shower. Libby, here, needs to freshen up.’

  Benny stepped out of the doorway to allow the girls to step in. As soon as they did he moved behind them. ‘No time,’ he said.

  ‘What do you mean? You just said yourself we’re early.’

  ‘So’s the boss.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Freddie needs to speak with you.’

  ‘Freddie’s here?’

  ‘That’s what I said, ain’t it?’

  Kelly took a moment. She didn’t want to show she was rattled. ‘Fine. I’ll show Libby where to go. I can speak with him while she’s in the shower. What does he want?’

  ‘He has questions. For both of you.’

  Kelly’s anxiety was growing. It was already at the point where she was struggling to suppress the external signs. Benny was acting differently —pensive and fidgety as if he had been tasked with something in which he was terrified of failing. That could only be to bring the two women up to him. Kelly could not see how that could be a good thing.

  ‘What’s going on, Benny?’

  Benny shrugged. ‘You always tell me how I don’t know nothing, how I just do what I’m told, ain’t that right? Well, I’ve been told to bring you up. Straight up. That’s all I know. So lead the way, yeah?’ He gestured towards the steps.

  Kelly felt the grip on her arm tighten. She’d taken a step forward but Libby hadn’t. ‘We have to go.’ She nodded, trying to be reassuring, trying to communicate that everything was going to be okay. It was like coaxing a small child to a dentist’s chair.

  ‘What does he want with us?’ Libby breathed.

  ‘Let’s go and find out, shall we? It’s probably nothing much.’ But Kelly knew Freddie Rickman. She knew he didn’t come here unless he really had to, unless the message was one that only he could deliver. And she had heard rumours as to how he liked to do that.

  She shook her arm loose and took hold of Libby’s hand instead. It felt cold and clammy but Libby allowed herself to be led towards the stone steps. Benny followed too, hanging behind to block any exit.

  ‘You’re sweating,’ Libby said. ‘Your hands. Are you okay?’ Kelly let go, she rubbed her hands together and realised it was her hands that were cold and clammy. She was suddenly aware of the pulse in her temple and her shortened breaths. She had been so busy trying to suppress
Libby’s fear that she hadn’t realised her own.

  When they reached the landing that led to Flat 12, she lifted her head to see a large figure standing halfway down. Immediately, the figure stepped into a room to the right. She knew which room and she knew who it was.

  Freddie Rickman was waiting for them.

  * * *

  Parking was no issue, it seemed. The bays were numbered, probably correlating with the flats, but the vast majority sat empty. The sign warning of clamping in the area was so badly graffitied that Maddie could barely make out the words. It looked like it had been there a while; it certainly felt like an empty threat. She smiled to herself at the big black letters that made up the most prominent of the graffiti: ACAB. She had seen it enough times to know what it meant: All Coppers Are Bastards. As far as anti-police protests went, it had always struck her as one of the more half-arsed.

  The communal door was made of a solid-looking wood. As she approached it, she was slowed by a feeling that she had been there before. She stopped a few metres short, still far enough away to be able to lean back and take in the whole of the frontage. It was largely featureless, a dull, brick building with slashes of faded orange that chased along the underside of the larger of the windows for each individual flat. The off-white letters making up ‘Truro House’ were stacked clumsily on top of each other to run down vertically down the wall by the door. She had seen this style all over the country; there must have been a time when councils were sharing templates for social housing. Maybe that was where the familiarity came from. It was hardly relevant. She stepped towards the entrance.

  The door was not as heavy as it looked and Maddie over-compensated, bumping it too hard with her hip so it bounced off the solid wall. The sound boomed around what was an empty space with concrete the material of choice for the floor, walls and ceiling. As a result, the whole area was a drab grey, even the interior of the lift that stood idle to her left with its doors parted. Maddie opted for the stairs, despite heading for the top floor.

  There were five floors accessed from a twisting flight of stairs that rose up in one corner of the building. Every landing gave a brief view out of large windows. The layer of filth was consistent, as was the smell of urine. Finally, she made the top landing. There were only three flats on this floor and also the first sign of carpet. It lined the corridor but was rucked up against the sides, roughly laid out rather than being cut and measured with any skill.

 

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