by Jacqui Rose
Edith pulled a face. ‘Listen, Edward, I’ve got my own worries. Rambo out there thinks I’ve gone for a piss so I’ve got to make this quick. You need to keep your mouth shut about my involvement with setting Del up. You do that, I’ll keep my mouth shut about yours. Do I make myself clear?’
Teddy nodded. In the last few hours, there had been a lot of people making themselves very clear.
The phone sat in the middle of the table with all eyes on it. No one moved. No one said a thing. The ticking clock was silent but the movement of the hands were clear and obvious to see. It’d been too long. Too long to hope the phone might ring again. They had no other leads. No other hope or life lines to Star.
‘Don’t you think you should lie down?’ Del spoke to Bunny, who only just managed to shake her head. He implored to Claudia. ‘Don’t you think she should rest?’ It was the first time he’d really exchanged words with Claudia since her revelation.
‘I’ve tried telling her.’
Bunny snapped at Claudia, not appreciating her input.
‘I’m not a child.’
‘Your mum’s only concerned about you.’
Fat Man spoke the word which hung in the air. A word layered with so much meaning, which for so long had been left unsaid by anyone other than Bunny. Claudia, noticing Fat Man coming to her defence, smiled. ‘Thank you Arthur, but it’s fine.’
Before Del had chance to raise his eyebrows at the name Arthur, Bunny burst into angry tears, startling everyone in the room. ‘Don’t talk to me like you know me. You don’t know anything about me, Burkey. You don’t know anything about my mum and you certainly don’t know anything about Star.’
‘Burkey don’t mean anything by it, Bun. Calm down. Think of the baby.’ Del spoke, but seeing Bunny’s head spin round towards him, wished he hadn’t.
Rarely one to raise her voice, Bunny shouted loudly. The hurt and fear pitched high into her words. ‘Don’t make out I don’t care. That’s all I’ve ever tried to do.’
‘I know, Bun, I’m not saying you don’t care, I just …’
‘You are. You are saying that. But you’ve never understood. You’ve never seen my whole life has been about making it right again. About caring for Star – but it didn’t work because look what happened.’
‘It isn’t your fault. You couldn’t have known.’
‘It is my fault. It always was. I’ve fought my whole life and I wanted to give her better, but it hasn’t worked because it’s about me not being able to keep what I love safe. If it hadn’t been for me she’d be here … They’d both be here.’
Del frowned, realising Bunny was talking about other things apart from Star, though he didn’t understand quite what. ‘Bunny, you’re a good mother. The best.’
Bunny’s eyes were filled with pain. ‘Don’t patronise me. Please, don’t patronise me. I can’t do this. I can’t deal with any more guilt. Please Del, please. You have to find her. You have to bring her back to me. You promised me it’ll be fine. You always said everything would be fine.’
Del stared at Bunny, his heart breaking for her. He felt helpless – he didn’t know what to say, though he could feel everyone in the room willing him to find the right words to comfort Bunny.
As he stumbled about in his mind for words the phone rang. All eyes froze on it, then there was a mad scramble to pass it to Del.
Holding the phone in his hand, he put his finger on his lips, gesturing to the others to be quiet.
‘Hello?’
‘Alan?’
Del’s eyes glanced round the room as he answered, trying to put on a refined accent.
‘Yes.’
‘It’s Julian.’
‘Julian?’ Del said his name, an inflection in his voice.
‘Millwood.’
‘Of course.’
There was silence and once again, Del could hear the breathing on the other end of the phone of the caller on the line. The temptation to ask a question was overwhelming but Del waited, not succumbing to his feelings. Not wanting to mess up what could be their only chance of finding out if this was anything to do with Star.
‘I need you to get some papers.’
‘No problem.’
Again there was a pause. Del was beginning to panic but then he thought of Alan. The arrogant, narcissistic, manipulating barrister who’d he’d employed as his fixer for years. He thought of the way he’d spoken. Rude. Impatient and surly. And he thought of the phone call he’d heard Alan have with a man named Julian, on the night he’d died.
‘What do you want, Julian? I told you, don’t call me.’
‘No can do, Alan, you owe me.’
Del nodded to himself. It was working.
‘Nothing to say.’
‘I want the papers for the girl.’
He needed to be careful. Trying not to sound too eager, he spoke, attempting to sound as calm as possible. ‘Which girl?’
‘You’d like her, Alan. She’s your taste. Blonde. Blue eyes. An innocent.’ Del’s eyes widened and he squeezed the phone tightly, gripping on to it in anger. He felt Bunny’s arm on him. He had to stay cool. Stay cool.
‘She sounds perfect.’ Del struggled to say the next words. ‘Maybe I could have some of her myself.’
Julian chortled down the phone. ‘Sorry, she’s already spoken for.’
‘Shame. I would’ve liked to have met her.’
As Del listened he heard the suspicion in Julian’s voice.
‘You’ve changed your tune. I thought you didn’t want anything more to do with these things.’
‘I didn’t, but when you’re dangling the carrot, it’s hard not to take a bite. I need to know exactly what you need. Perhaps we should meet.’
‘I can’t, I’m in Spain … with the girl.’
‘I could meet you, it’s no problem. I’ve got business out there myself. Just tell me where you are.’ The moment Del heard the words rush out of his mouth, he knew he’d been too keen. The line went silent for a few seconds. Julian’s voice was deadpan when he finally spoke. ‘I’ll call you back.’ The phone went down.
‘Fuck. Fuck.’ Del slammed down his fist on the table.
‘What’s happened? What did he say? Was it about Star?’ Desperate, Bunny stared at Del.
‘I blew it.’
‘How? Jesus, Del. What’s happened?’
Slowly, Del looked at Bunny. Next he looked at Claudia, Fat Man and finally to Edith, skipping over the gaze of Teddy completely.
‘He’s got her.’
‘Who? … Who’s got her?’ Bunny’s eyes were filled with tears.
‘I don’t know him but he knows Alan. He says his name’s Julian. Julian Millwood.’
Del Williams watched as Bunny collapsed to the sound of Claudia’s piercing scream.
Twilight in Marbella brought a hue of flickering colours. Pale orange and yellow lights cast out from the seemingly distorted sun just visible above the horizon. Long shadows danced on the walls as Del sat watching Bunny asleep. Beautiful and peaceful.
She stirred.
‘Hello, sleeping beauty.’ Del’s smile was drawn with sadness.
Bunny tried to sit up but Del placed his hands gently on her. ‘You need to rest, Bun.’
‘How long have I been asleep?’
‘A few hours or so.’
Bunny’s voice was urgent, her blue eyes, deep pools of fear, scanned Del’s face. ‘What are we going to do?’
‘We’re going to talk.’
‘Talk?’
Del nodded. ‘Yes, Bunny. Talk. I need to know everything. We should’ve done this a long time ago.’
‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’
‘Don’t you?’
‘Tell me about Julian. Tell me about the men in the woods.’
Bunny vigorously shook her head as she hugged her knees, looking so much younger than her years.
Del took a deep breath and squeezed her hand, feeling a tight pain in his chest. He reached into his
inner pocket, taking out the photo he’d found in Alan’s office.
‘Talk to me, baby … please.’
Bunny blinked, staring at the picture of her with Julian. Del spoke in a hoarse whisper as his emotions drowned out his words. ‘However long it takes, Bun. I’ll sit here with you as long as it takes and then … and then I’ll go and find our daughter. I promise I’ll bring her back to you.’
52
The early morning dew saturated the lawn. Glistening drops of water coated the delicate blades of grass as Del threw his cigarette down. He was exhausted. Bunny had talked all night, telling him things he knew he wouldn’t, couldn’t, forget until his dying breath.
‘You all right, D?’ Del turned, startled at the intrusion. It was Fat Man.
‘You all right, Burkey?’
‘Yeah. Couldn’t sleep. You?’
‘Not doing so good.’
Fat Man nodded, understanding. Del began to walk, getting into his Range Rover. Fat Man smiled and came up to the driver’s seat door. ‘Off somewhere?’
‘Yeah.’
‘Need me to come with you?’
Del looked at Burkey. He was one of the good ones and his constant presence, although he didn’t know it, had been a source of comfort for him. ‘No, I have to do this on my own.’
‘You want this?’ Fat Man took out a loaded Colt Combat Elite from his jacket.
Del shook his head. ‘No, but Burkey … thank you. For everything.’
‘Go on, get out of here.’ Fat Man shut the car door, worried how emotional he suddenly felt.
The drive down to Puerto Banús was long and dusty as Del cut through the hills overlooking the whitewashed buildings of Marbella. His open window let the heat of the morning blow in with the warm southerly breeze.
Heading down the hill, Del pulled up his Range Rover outside Dolce & Gabbana. He sat back in the cream leather seat and closed his eyes, partly from exhaustion, and partly what was in front of him.
Pulling up his trouser leg, Del took out his gun from his ankle holster, slipping it quickly into the glove compartment. He did the same with his phone and the tiny pistol he kept hidden in his leather waistband.
Okay, he was ready – or as ready as he’d ever be. Opening the door, stoking himself up, Del stepped out of the car. He wasn’t sure how this was going to pan out, but it was certainly worth a try.
The water rose and cut in white crests as Del skimmed his twin engine Aquariva speed boat, custom made by Gucci, out across the crystal bay of Puerto Banús. The highly polished mahogany foredeck, inlaid with maple strips, sparkled in the sun. The opulent white leather, chrome and wood interior oozed 1950s Hollywood glamour. And the box of crayons next to the yellow bucket and spade oozed memories of the glorious day he and Star had spent racing round the coast; when she’d squealed with fear and delight as the boat had hit swelling surfs and waves at high speeds.
A few miles outside the harbour, Del began to slow down his boat. He looked in front of him and, like a steel block of flats coming out of the water, Del was dwarfed by Milo’s luxury cruise yacht.
Four storeys of blacked-out windows and sparkling white metal towered above him. A grey and gold helicopter sat on the back of the yacht and a multitude of satellite dishes moved, circling round slowly: all making up the sleek five-million-pound ship.
Del turned off his engine and let his speedboat buoy from side to side on the gentle Mediterranean waves. The expectant sound of clicking metal made Del look up. There in front of him were four of Milo’s men, aiming their sniper guns directly at him. With a sigh of resignation, Del put his arms up in the air as he watched the thin telescopic gangway purring forward towards him as it was opened.
Looking hesitantly at the water far below him, Del struggled to keep his balance as he walked up the gangway, which had rails on one side only.
Stopping just before he got to the boat’s deck, Del shouted authoritatively, ‘I want to see Milo. I’m not armed.’
Milo’s men glanced at each other, then gestured Del with the nozzle of their guns to step aboard. The tallest man limped towards Del, recognition in his eyes that wasn’t reflected in Del’s. The Russian stood almost nose to nose with Del, a veil of hatred on his face.
He produced his gun, trailing it down Del’s body. First to his chest, then to his stomach then finally stopping at his leg. ‘I see your memory isn’t as long as mine.’
Del stared at the man, recollections flashing into his mind. The outhouse buildings. The coke. The money. Shit. He held the Russian’s gaze, not flinching, not retaliating as he felt the gun’s hard barrel jabbing into his leg. ‘No hard feelings, mate. As I said, I’d like to see Milo.’
A contemptuous smile crossed the man’s face. He shook his head. ‘I’ll say who sees Milo and I’m also saying you’re not. I want you to turn around and go back the way you came; only this time, you’ll be swimming back … No hard feelings.’
Going round behind Del, he pushed the gun into his back, between his shoulder blades. Making Del walk forward, he pressed the button, closing the gangway. Once fully shut he forced Del towards the edge of the yacht, to the twenty-foot drop.
‘Walk.’
Del didn’t move. He felt the warmth of the Russian’s breath on his ear. ‘Walk or shoot. It’s your choice.’
Del looked out in front of him. Nothing but sea. Nothing but a slow, exhaustive death as he drowned. Slowly, Del spoke. Emotionless. Clearing his mind of all thoughts. ‘I’ll take the bullet.’
‘Enough. We’ve had our fun!’
The gun was withdrawn from Del’s back. Laughter surrounded him. He swerved round and saw Milo standing a level above him, leaning over the silver railings.
‘We meet again, my friend.’
It took all of Del’s emotional willpower not to weigh into the Russian standing next to him, but he was saved by his sense of relief, albeit drained relief.
Del was walked to the middle of the deck, still with guns pointed at him. He looked up at Milo, despising his arrogance as he stood like an ancient Roman emperor addressing the masses.
Not wanting to waste any more time, Del went into his inner jacket pocket and pulled something out. The second he’d done it he knew he’d made a mistake. His call of, ‘It’s not a gun’ went unheard as his face hit the floor, smashing down onto the hard teak deck. Milo’s men piled on top of him. A knee ground into his spine. Feet kicked the side of him and four guns pushed into his body. His breathing staggered by his chest being compressed against the wooden deck, along with his head turned to the side and a Kalashnikov rifle pressed against it.
He heard footsteps and felt the vibration underneath his body. A pair of feet came into view along with a familiar sounding voice. It was Milo. ‘Tell me why I shouldn’t kill you right now?’
Del’s gaze followed the length of his arm to what he’d pulled out of his jacket. It was a photo. The photograph of Julian Millwood and Bunny. ‘Because this man has taken my daughter and I need your help to find him.’
Teddy Davies sat at the kitchen table eating breakfast, feeling just as much a prisoner as Edith. He’d been a fool to come, but then, what choice did he have? Bunny had told him in no uncertain terms it was either he came to help or she’d make sure Del dealt with him – in the way only Del Williams could – for his part in her shooting.
He needed to try and think of a way to get out of there, and fast. He hadn’t told anyone where he’d gone and the last thing Teddy wanted was to be found a few months from now in a gangster’s graveyard.
Putting another spoon of muesli in his mouth, Teddy continued to contemplate his predicament.
‘Hello Teddy.’
Muesli, milk and sugar flew out of Teddy’s mouth, splattering the marble table. His shocked face turned red as his intake of breath at spotting the new guest turned into an uncontrollable coughing fit.
‘Let me help you with that.’
Milo Burkov walked round to where Teddy was sitting. Bringing back his f
ist he banged it into Teddy’s back. Extra firm and very, very hard. ‘Better?’
Teddy shook his head, twisting out of his chair in attempt to escape the pain. Milo’s hand held him down. ‘Oh no, I don’t think it is better, do you Del?’
Del walked up to Milo. ‘Why don’t I see if I can make it better?’ With a larger fist and a harder bang, Del hit Teddy’s back, putting his entire weight behind it. Teddy shot out of the chair, almost being winded as the force of the blow ejected him across the table.
‘I think that will do it, don’t you?’
Del winked at Milo. Grateful, relieved – and no doubt eternally indebted to the man, but whatever the price, it was worth it. He now had the combination of his men and Milo’s almost army-sized task force – and then that only left Teddy, who’d done little more than nothing since he’d arrived, unless of course you counted the quality grams of powder he was nostriling. Why the fuck Bunny had asked him to come, he didn’t know, but what was stranger than that was why he’d actually come. Del couldn’t fathom it. He’d known Teddy for years and in all that time he’d never done anything for other people – unless of course there was something in it for him. For Teddy to put himself amongst them all like this, knowing how he felt about him, was completely out of character.
He supposed he could put it down to the powder. The man was clearly losing it, but then … and Del didn’t like to think of it, but there was always the possibility Teddy actually liked Bunny and sleeping with her was never about a wind up, it was about genuine feelings. Oh Christ, there he went again. He felt ashamed of himself for allowing these thoughts to enter his head when the people he loved the most were facing the cruellest of nightmares.
Wanting to channel his energy somewhere, Del turned on Teddy, who was struggling to wipe all the muesli off the front of his brown V-neck polyester top.
‘This ain’t a holiday mate.’
Teddy froze, realising Del was speaking to him.
‘Pardon?’
Del sneered as Milo sat down, watching, as was his habit.