‘Really I can’t. Not tonight.’
‘Tomorrow then?’ he asked, hope restored.
‘Maybe.’ She said, before she walked away.
Matt watched her go and then made his way to the pub. He finished his second pint and knew that if he didn’t stop drinking right then, he wouldn’t stop until he was unconscious. While he was pondering his very limited options, Andrew and Kevin entered the pub. They were already well past the stopping point, especially Andrew, who needed Kevin to support him.
Matt put his glass down and left.
Liz and Sam were on the Wii. Sam jumped up when the doorbell rang. ‘It’ll be Craig, he said he’d try and come over tonight.’
While Sam went to answer the door, Liz continued to play.
The door to the lounge was pushed open. ‘Come for a thrashing.’ She said, without pausing in her actions. It was a shooting game and she knew she could beat her daughter’s young boyfriend.
But it wasn’t Craig.
‘I’m impressed.’ Matt said from behind her.
Liz dropped the controller and span around in surprise.
Sam looked between her mother and Matt, a speculative gleam in her eyes.
Matt walked into the room and picked up the dropped controller, handing it to her. ‘You’re good at that.’
Liz shrugged her shoulders casually.
‘I’ll make some tea shall I?’ Sam said.
Liz stood up quickly. ‘He’s not stopping.’
‘Milk, two sugars. Thanks.’ Matt said, grinning at Sam, who smiled back, clearly intrigued. With a quick searching glance at her mother she left the room.
‘What are you doing here?’ Liz demanded, wondering why despite being annoyed there was a tiny rebellious spark of pleasure at seeing him.
Matt reached out and took her hand. ‘I couldn’t wait until tomorrow.’
Liz snatched her hand away. ‘Learn some patience. And how did you find me?’
Matt looked a bit guilty. ‘I looked your file up.’
‘That’s confidential!’ she snapped, outraged and just a tiny bit flattered.
‘I needed to see you,’ he said, taking her hand again.
She didn’t snatch it away immediately even though she knew she should. She didn’t want him in her house. He looked down at her; he looked deeply, searchingly into her eyes. He bent his head and kissed her gently. Fleetingly she let herself savour the moment, enjoy the feel of his lips on hers, but then she pulled back.
‘Why do I feel like we’ve met before?’ he said.
Liz withdrew her hand and stepped right back away from him. She moved to the other side of the room and sat down. ‘Because you like clichés?’
He laughed.
Sam returned with the tea. She placed the tray on the coffee table and then sat down on the sofa. She patted a place beside her for Matt to sit down.
With a quick mocking grin at Liz he settled down beside her daughter.
‘So what do you do? And how do you know my mum?’
Chapter Twenty One
Andrew was drunk. Way beyond drunk, he was seriously pissed. He staggered out of the pub, his foot caught on the step and he would have fallen if Kevin hadn’t grabbed him. ‘Thanks, mate.’ He slurred.
A couple of young girls walked past. He leered and winked. They laughed at him and kept walking. ‘Slags,’ he called after them.
Kevin took his arm and led him in the opposite direction. ‘How’s your girl?’ Kevin asked.
Andrew frowned at the thought of her. ‘Useless bitch, just like her mother was.’
‘Not seen her for a while’ Kevin said casually, ‘she must be what? Twelve?’
‘Nearly fourteen,’ Andrew said before dropping down at the curb to throw up.
Kevin smiled to himself. ‘Is she now? Doesn’t time fly.’
Andrew staggered to his feet. Kevin took his arm. ‘Come on mate, let’s get you home.’
Kylie heard them stumbling down the drive. She heard voices and the key in the door. She strained to listen; if he had a woman with him then she would be left alone. She heard a man’s voice, and it wasn’t her fathers. She pulled the covers high up around her as tears fell silently down her cheeks. The front door closed and she heard the kitchen one open. The mutt gave one brief bark, she heard her dad as he fussed the stupid animal, and then she heard the footsteps on the stairs. Only one set, but they were heavy. The floorboards creaked and groaned and she knew the man was heading her way.
She glanced at the door. The feeble barrier of the drawers wouldn’t save her. She started to shake. Her eyes darted around looking for escape, but she knew there wasn’t any. Not for her. The door handle turned. Then pressure against the door, the drawers began to slide slowly towards the wall.
Kylie buried herself under the covers and closed her eyes. If she shut them tight enough and wished hard enough she might get lucky and die.
Kevin paid the taxi and climbed out. He walked to his front door a contented man. Sometimes life was good. He let himself in and turned around to lock and bolt the door. He didn’t share Andrews view on the killer. Kevin had a bad feeling about it and wasn’t going to take any chances.
Without switching the hall light on, he went into the kitchen. He was famished. Sex always made him hungry and she had been as sweet as honey. He pulled open the fridge door and the kitchen light flicked on. For a brief second he didn’t get it. Didn’t register what was happening. Then as realisation hit him so did the fear. He swung round to face the black clad figure who was pointing a gun at him.
On his kitchen table was a note. He stepped closer to the table and read it – ON YOUR KNEES AND WRITE SORRY WITH THE LIPSTICK. Kevin picked up the lipstick. It was new and unused. His hand was shaking violently and he could feel beads of sweat bursting through his pores. He fought his fear. He had to remain calm and in control.
He looked at the figure assessing. They had a gun; they knew how to use it, but the killer wasn’t large, they were medium height, slim build. And despite the gun, Kevin felt he had an advantage – as he had nothing to lose.
Kevin dropped the note to the floor and looked at the figure defiantly. ‘No.’
The killer stepped closer and pointed the gun at Kevin’s head. Adrenaline pumped through Kevin’s veins making him brave and reckless. If the killer would come just a little bit closer he could make a lunge for it. He stood resolute. ‘You’re going to kill me anyway, so just do it.’ He was pleased with his bravado. He’d show the fucker what he was dealing with.
A shot rang out and a bullet seared into his knee. He screamed in pain and dropped to the floor. ‘Fuck! Alright! Alright...’
The figure moved around the table and kicked the lipstick closer to him. Kevin concentrated all his pain and fury into a sideways lunge and grabbed the killer’s leg. The intruder toppled backwards and dropped the gun. Kevin launched himself at the killer, dragging his bleeding leg he threw himself on top and punched the figure hard in the ribs.
He grabbed the balaclava and pulled it from their head. He stared in stunned surprise. His face was close against theirs.
A knee shot up and caught him in the groin. He screamed in agony. The killer pushed him off and scrambled to their feet, then stamped on his shot leg. The pain sent him fighting for consciousness.
The killer lunged for the gun and turned it on him.
The question formed in his mind and reached his lips...‘Why?’ But the bullet hit before he could have any answer.
Chapter Twenty Two
I’d been careless. I should have been more careful. I knew how dangerous Kevin was. He had been the ringleader. The master manipulator. How had I let him get the better of me?
Time was against me now. There would be clues, stuff for forensics to get excited about. It wouldn’t be long before they were knocking at my door. How long did I have? I wasn’t sure, but it would take time to do the checks.
In all our research we never considered being caught before we had fin
ished. It seemed insanely arrogant now. But we had planned it all so carefully we didn’t see how it could go wrong. But then we didn’t ever consider me having to do all this alone either.
I was sure I still had time; they might start to suspect but the evidence would have to be pieced together. It was a warning though, I had to speed up and I had to smarten up. After twenty years of planning I wasn’t going to be stopped now.
Matt didn’t want to wake up. But someone was banging on his door. Reluctantly he opened his eyes, it was still dark, and he glanced at his bedside clock. It was just gone four am. He threw the covers off and climbed out of bed. He ran down stairs and pulled open the door. A young uniformed PC was on his doorstep.
His first thought was Avril. Had she done something stupid? Had they found her in a ditch, was she dead?
Matt didn’t manage to get to a second thought. ‘I’ve been sent to get you.’ The PC said. The lad was very young, hardly old enough to have a driving license.
Or was it just that he was getting old? ‘By?’
‘DS Tyson sir, there’s been another murder.’
Matt opened the door wider. ‘You’d better come in while I throw some clothes on.’ He didn’t wait for an answer; he headed back upstairs to his bedroom.
He picked up his mobile which listed several missed calls, the empty bottle of whisky by the bed showed why he hadn’t heard them.
Matt knew who was dead as soon as they turned into the street. It was where Kevin lived; it was a neat, tidy, semidetached pre-war house. Matt knew that Kevin had lived there his entire life, man and boy. Matt had even gone there once as a lad. Kevin’s mother had invited a few ‘friends’ home for tea after school. He never understood why he’d been asked or even why he went. He and Kevin had never been friends. But it had been Kevin who issued the invitation and even back then when they were barely teenagers, you didn’t say no to Kevin. Not unless you were up for a kicking.
Not that Matt had been a coward. But Kevin had a way of getting what he wanted. He was a clever manipulator. He was brilliant at assessing others weaknesses and then he’d exploit them ruthlessly.
Somehow Kevin had made Matt feel that by turning down the invitation it would hurt Kevin’s mothers feelings. Utter nonsense of course, since she’d never even met him. But Matt had gone along to the ‘Tea’ party. He hadn’t liked Kevin’s mother at all. She’d been everything a perfect mum should be. Lots of homemade cakes and sandwiches, they’d even been allowed Coca-Cola, a real treat that he rarely experienced at home. The woman had been attentive, asking all the boys about school and about her son and about the teachers and the girls.
To start with it had been flattering. Matt’s own mother worked part time and he had two younger brothers so he wasn’t used to a lot of adult attention. But then it had felt invasive. More like an inquisition. None of the other lads had seemed bothered or fazed by it. But Matt couldn’t wait to get away and made sure that he never went back again. It had felt as though he was in a play and everyone else knew the plot and what their lines were, he was the only one who didn’t get it. Kevin and his mother had some other agenda and Matt had been too stupid or to naive to know what it was.
Jen walked out of the house as soon as she saw him arrive. She was excited. ‘This one fought back,’ she said, the minute he climbed out of the car. ‘He was shot in the leg as well as the head. He didn’t write sorry, although the lipstick is there...’
Matt quashed the irritation he usually felt at seeing Jen all bright and bouncy at such a shit hour. Truth was she could keep him out of the loop and take over. Since his wife was a suspect he should really be off the case. But they had no evidence and she hadn’t been charged with anything, besides, he was an experienced officer and the force was overstretched and short staffed. He walked into the house. Kevin was a bloody heap on the kitchen floor. Matt knew he should feel some sadness and compassion. The man was dead, had probably died in agony. But he didn’t, and if he was brutally honest with himself he was glad.
A uniformed PC waved at Matt to get his attention. Matt left the kitchen and followed the policeman to a small room at the back of the house. It was a small study, dominated by a large desk and an expensive looking computer. It also had a small comfy looking sofa, a very large TV and a DVD player. The policeman pointed to a fancy looking printer which was on the desk alongside a digital camera.
Matt had a horrible feeling that was quickly confirmed when the policeman pointed to the printer tray.
‘Some pretty hard core shit. Children Sir...’
Matt stared at the pictures and shook his head in disgust. He wished he’d put a bullet in the bastard himself.
Matt sat at the bar in the Rugby clubhouse, a pint in his hand and a photo in front of him. It was the picture of the team when they won the youth trophy.
Andrew walked in he stopped beside Matt and ordered himself a pint. He pointed to the picture. ‘Not you an’ all. Kev was whittling on about the past last night.’
Matt stared at the photo, wishing as he had a hundred times before that he could turn the clock back and re-live that day.
‘That was a real team.’ Andrew said. ‘Don’t make ‘em like that now. Kids today don’t have the heart or the guts for it.’
‘You were with Kevin all evening?’
Andrew nodded.
‘Until what time?’
‘I dunno. Got a bit pissed to be honest. We went back to mine, think I must have had more than I realised ‘cause I woke up this morning on the sofa with Brucie slobbering all over me…’
‘What about Kevin?’
‘Went home I guess. What the fuck is this about?’
‘Anyone at home with you?’
‘Kylie was upstairs.’
Matt finished his drink and stood up. He picked the photo up and folded it carefully in half before putting it into his pocket. Then he looked at Andrew. ‘Change your lock.’ He said seriously.
Andrew was surprised. He shook his head. ‘You’re just being paranoid...’
Matt stared at the other man, watching closely for a reaction. ‘Kevin’s dead. Shot early this morning.’
Andrew looked shocked, really shocked, and more than a little bit scared. Matt walked away.
Chapter Twenty Three
He was sick of the looks. Some were pitying, some were mocking, some were curious and a couple were malicious. He wanted to get out and stay out but he wouldn’t give any of them the satisfaction. He sipped his coffee and kept himself shut away at his desk. The office was small and luckily it had been pretty empty for most of the day. He had a list of names and phone numbers in front of him and was ringing his way down. It was every name from the photo he took from the Rugby club. Most he remembered and the few that he didn’t he got from the newspaper archives. At the time of the win it had been considered news worthy enough to warrant a full name list of the winning players, along with a copy of the photo. There they were in grimy black and white print, the victorious team.
Two players had already died, one from cancer and one in a road accident. Two had moved out of the area and he was struggling to find them. One had immigrated to Australia, Four were dead, shot by the killer and the rest he was trying to contact to tell them to change their locks and be extra careful. It was proving to be a difficult task.
He looked up as Jen hurried into the office. He casually covered up the list. She had that look of determination and contained excitement that he had come to dread.
‘Socos found a hair,’ she said.
He knew there was more to come. He was right.
‘A woman’s hair,’ she added, looking directly at him.
Matt knew from her expression what was coming.
‘Long and dark,’ she paused. ‘Gov, we went to your house, Avril wasn’t there. Do you know where we can find your wife?’
‘No.’
‘Gov...’
He shook his head. ‘She left. I’ve no idea where she went. But I do know that you are wr
ong. Avril might be lots of things but she isn’t a killer.’
Jen looked at him and he had a horrible feeling he saw pity in her eyes. ‘DNA won’t match.’ He said adamantly.
‘We just need to talk to her Gov, see where she was last night.’
Matt knew she was right, obviously Avril needed to be eliminated as a suspect. He scribbled down a couple of addresses and handed the paper to Jen. ‘Couple of her friends, she might be with them.’
Jen took it and they looked at each other awkwardly.
‘So she wasn’t at home with you last night then?’
He shook his head. ‘No, told you she moved out…’
‘I’m sorry,’ Jen said, with what looked suspiciously like pity in her eyes.
She left and Matt felt a pang of guilt. Avril wouldn’t appreciate the police turning up at her friend’s house. But then if she had nothing to hide... he let the thought trail away. There was a small nagging doubt, which seemed to be growing bigger in his head. He found himself questioning how well he really knew her. She had always kept him apart from her family and rarely spoke about them. Hell, they hadn’t even attended the wedding. He hadn’t considered it strange. He knew some families just didn’t get on and besides they got hitched on a beach in Florida. His parents and their new spouses attended along with some of their mutual friends but she had no family with her at all. In hindsight he should have asked more questions, been more curious, but his energies were diverted by trying to keep his sniping parents apart. Hindsight was a wonderful thing! Don’t they say that everyone has a secret? Although he never knew who ‘they’ were. What if Avril’s was so huge and so dark that it had turned her into a vengeful killer? Plus there was still the question of where was she between leaving Brian’s house at twelve and turning up at home, just a ten minute drive away, nearly two hours later.
The Book of Revenge Page 7