Death Trap: Rosie Gilmour 8

by Anna Smith

  O’Dwyer rolled his eyes to the ceiling, pacing the room.

  ‘Jesus Christ, man! And you killed her. And her baby? What kind of fucking cunt are you? Why didn’t you come to me? It was only a fucking baby.’

  ‘I was scared, Da.’

  ‘So you fucking killed them!’ he screamed.

  He crossed the room and sank a boot into Timmy’s ribs, then another.

  ‘I should have fucking drowned you at birth, you bastard.’ He kicked him again and again.

  Finbar stepped in and held his father back.

  ‘Please, Da. Stop. Listen to me. Listen. We have to sort this. We have to! Stop!’

  O’Dwyer could hardly breathe, sweat trickling down his back, and he could feel his face turning crimson.

  ‘Get out of here, you cunt!’ he screamed at Timmy.

  Timmy crawled on his hands and knees to the door.

  ‘Sit down, Da. We need to work something out here.’

  O’Dwyer sat down. ‘What the fuck are we going to work out? It’s only a matter of time til the bizzies start asking some serious questions around here. We’re the only fucking farm in a few miles, apart from that old bastard woman up the road. They’re going to ask questions of everyone here. And what are we going to do with Timmy? He’ll just fall on the floor like the gobshite he is and confess.’

  ‘Listen, we’ll send Timmy away. We’ll work things out. We need to get alibis for the night the students were killed. We’ll get the lads down south to do that. Say we were away at a fair or something.’

  O’Dwyer said nothing, just stared ahead in disbelief, exhausted.

  ‘And listen, Da. That bastard Tadi. I mean, he’s gone missing. Does that not look a bit suspicious to you? He’s been here for months and suddenly he’s gone – just as they keep digging up bodies? We’ll just fucking plug it all on him.’

  O’Dwyer looked at him and tried to regulate his breathing as he wiped sweat from his forehead.

  ‘I dunno, Finn. I just don’t fucking know. Leave me be for a while now. I need to think.’

  *

  Molly O’Dwyer scurried away from the door where she’d been listening when she heard her husband bellow at Timmy to get out. But she’d heard it all. Even though she’d heard it with her own ears, she still couldn’t believe it. She worked around the bedrooms, tidying out drawers and cupboards to keep herself occupied. An image kept coming back into her mind. Elsa, the Ukrainian girl. She was beautiful, blonde with pale blue, sad eyes. Finn had brought her, saying one of his friends asked to give her a job. She wasn’t sure how this had come about, but often wondered if Finn had bought these people, even though it had been years before the penny had dropped that the workers had been down-and-outs living in squalor before they came here – and now they were not free to go. Now she’d heard this. She swallowed the lump in her throat. Bo was a harmless, terrified soul, like a bird with a broken wing. And Elsa, the Ukrainian girl, all eager, helping out. But she’d stolen from her once and Molly had set a trap for her, telling her if she did it again, she would tell Finn and she’d be out on her ear. Then she’d mysteriously disappeared. And now this, Timmy saying he’d killed her and the baby girl. His baby. How in the name of Jesus was it possible that Timmy had done this? she asked herself. That he had come out of her womb, and this is what he was. A monster. He was a runt of a child from the word go, had to be revived as he hadn’t the lungs to get him through the first few hours. He was slow in his mind too. No point in sending him to school, as he couldn’t get anything into that thick head of his. But there was a mean streak to him. She’d seen the badness in him. But what could they do? You couldn’t abandon your own flesh and blood, though sometimes she thought that Rory despised him so much that he’d get rid of him. She’d said nothing, as was their way. When you married in their community you got on with your life and that was it. Rory O’Dwyer had been a good-looking young buck among them when they met in Limerick, but he was wild as they come and could knock down men twice his size in a bare-knuckle fight by the time he was sixteen. But it was only when he came over here that she saw the extent of his crimes. Money was coming in and they were getting rich. She never asked where from, because once when she did, she got a slap in the face in front of her sons.

  She thought of Tadi and how her husband had said that he’d run away. If Rory had an inkling of what she’d done, he’d kick the living shite out of her. But he never would. As she worked around the bedroom, she thought of Elsa and her young baby. A girl. All Timmy had to do was come and tell her and she’d have talked Rory round somehow, perhaps taken the little one in as their own. A little girl, like the one she never held in her arms, the one that had died at birth. What a bastard Timmy was. What a pure bastard she had produced.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Rosie woke up, a little groggy from last night’s wine. She had the familiar jet-lagged feeling she used to have when constantly travelling on stories, or going from one investigation to another with barely a break, running on adrenalin. It had been like that for the past few months, but it didn’t help if she drank too much. Despite the hangover, she was glad that at least she was alone in her bed. She lay with her hands behind her head, reflecting on last night’s dinner with Adrian, where they’d drunk much more than she’d intended, and ended up in a bar til well after midnight, reliving some of the scrapes they’d been involved in, glad they’d lived to spend time like this together and be able to laugh about it. Throughout the evening, she couldn’t help wondering if Adrian would make a move. She’d promised herself that she wouldn’t get involved, no matter what, but the alcohol and the atmosphere, relaxing together like old friends, had made it a distinct possibility. But she wouldn’t be the one to make the first move. In the end, Adrian simply walked her home, with his arm around her shoulder. When they got to the door of her flat, he accompanied her inside, and they stood silent in the hallway, a heartbeat away from throwing their arms around each other. She wanted to, and she knew by the look in his eye that he wanted to as well. But they didn’t. He held her hair and cupped her face, then kissed her softly on the cheek, saying he’d see her at his friend’s house in the morning. Rosie had to admit she was disappointed, as well as a bit ashamed that she was. But now, in the cold light of day, it was for the best. Let’s not make life any more complicated than it has to be, she told herself as she threw back the duvet and padded naked down the hallway to the shower.

  Her mobile was ringing when she came out of the bathroom, and she picked it up from the hall table, rubbing her hair with a towel. It was Declan.

  ‘Sorry to phone you at home, Rosie, but I thought you should know this.’

  ‘No problem, Dec. I’m getting ready to go to work. I’ve someone to interview first, then I’ll be down to the office. What’s up?’ She walked into the living room and clicked on her remote control for Sky News.

  ‘I got a call from a copper mate of mine who’s in uniform at Pitt Street. He’d overheard something, not sure if it’s true, about a witness going missing in the Thomas Boag case.’

  ‘Christ! Really?’

  ‘So he says. My friend’s a good guy, and he wouldn’t bullshit me. He said it’s all being whispered at the moment, but there are arses twitching in high places.’

  ‘There certainly will be, Dec, if they’ve lost a witness. But they’ll be twitching a lot more if Boag’s found him first.’ Rosie couldn’t quite believe what she was hearing, but the way things were going for Strathclyde’s finest at the moment, nothing could be ruled out. ‘I’ll see you shortly. By the way, you should treat your mate to a dinner on expenses. I’ll tell the editor it’s your shout.’

  ‘Thanks, Rosie.’ He hung up.

  While Rosie’s coffee was percolating, she prepared her usual breakfast of Greek yoghurt, blueberries and oats. It would have been healthy, had she and Adrian not polished off nearly two bottles of red wine last night. She drank a glass of cold water – too little, too late. Look on the bright side, she told herself
. You could have woken up with Adrian beside you, then spent your day dealing with your guilt. She keyed in Don’s mobile as she sat on the sofa.

  ‘Don, I’m hearing on the grapevine that a witness in the Boag case has gone missing. Is that right?’

  ‘Fuck me, so much for top secret. How did you hear that?’

  ‘If I told you I’d have to kill you. But is it true?’

  He sighed. ‘Too true, unfortunately. People are crapping themselves up here. We’re trying not to think the worst.’

  ‘What – that Boag’s got him?’

  ‘Yeah. Fucking mess, Rosie. Epic fail.’

  ‘Who’s the missing witness? Can you say?’

  ‘I’ll meet you later and fill you in. He’s a music teacher though – at Glasgow Academy.’

  ‘Gay?’

  ‘Yep.’

  ‘Oh dear.’ Rosie’s mind was firing off several scenarios, none of them good. ‘So has he just vanished? Done a runner?’

  ‘Christ, Rosie, if only I had answers to one of those questions. We just don’t fucking know. But there’s a few worried faces up at Serious Crime right now. Listen, I’m going into a briefing. Why don’t we meet at O’Brien’s later. Around six?’

  ‘Sure. I’ll be there.’ She hung up, intrigued.

  Matt rang her mobile as Rosie got into her car, and she told him she’d wait in the car park so they could go up to Maryhill together and talk to Tadi and his wife. She hoped Tadi hadn’t got cold feet now that his wife was back. As she waited for Matt, her mind was suddenly filled with thoughts of Thomas Boag, and her part in his arrest.

  *

  It had started with a phone call from a one-foot-in-the-grave junkie hooker contact she occasionally shared a drink with, and paid for information. She’d told Rosie that she knew a rent boy who’d been with the man suspected of being involved in the disappearance of two young men. The rent boy recognised Boag from the photofit the police put out after Jack Mulhearn went missing on a night out with mates, when he had disappeared towards the end of the evening. The newspapers had reported that Jack was the son of the notorious Glasgow gangster Jonjo Mulhearn and was already at university. When Rosie interviewed the rent boy, he told her he’d been with Jack around six months earlier, after he picked him up in a gay bar. He’d said Jack told him he was new to the scene, and that his parents didn’t know he was gay. But the rent boy also said he knew a guy called Boag, and that he was a creepy bastard. He told Rosie that the man who matched the police photofit was an IT guy in a credit card company, and he even phoned Rosie back with the name of the firm. She and Declan got to work, using a contact to obtain the names of everyone in the company. They finally found one called Boag who fitted the age profile, and they managed to get a picture of him coming out of the office. When she went back to the rent boy, he confirmed it was the man he knew. Rosie had a splash, and passed her investigation to police. Boag was arrested at his home before the paper hit the streets.

  She shuddered, remembering the look he’d given her that morning in court. Half an hour later, he was free. She stared out of the window at the sun attempting to come out. Boag was out there somewhere. Her instinct told him that the music teacher would never be seen again. And if anyone else was on Boag’s hit list, it would be her. Maybe she should move out of the flat? Christ! Why was she behaving like this, suddenly paranoid? Too much drink last night and not enough rest for the past few days. Calm down. You’ll give yourself more nightmares. She was glad to see Matt’s car swinging into the office car park, all smiles, bacon roll in hand. He lowered the window.

  ‘I bought you breakfast. Come on. We’ll go in my car.’

  She got out of her car and climbed into his.

  ‘Just what I need, a carb and stodge rush. I should really marry you, Matt. We’d be great together.’

  ‘I’m right here, darlin’, I’m right here.’ He tore off a mouthful of roll and sipped a steaming mug of tea.

  ‘I’ve just heard some very scary news,’ Rosie said.

  ‘What?’

  ‘A witness in the Boag case has gone missing. A gay teacher.’

  ‘Oh fuck! I’ve just felt a shudder run down my back.’

  ‘Me too, pal, when I heard.’ She sipped her tea. ‘I mean, it was our investigation that nailed him – basically handed him to the cops.’

  ‘Fuck’s sake, Rosie. Let me get my breakfast down. Do you think he’s coming after us?’ He grinned. ‘Well. After you, really. I only took his picture.’

  ‘Nah. Don’t worry. That only happens in the movies. You’d think he’d be far away from here by now. Why would he hang around when the whole of the UK is after him? I’d say he’s abroad by now.’

  Matt nudged her. ‘Aye, you can’t fool me with your bravado, Gilmour. You don’t believe a word of that. You’re starting to brick it. What if this teacher turns up dead? I think you should look at getting some protection.’

  Rosie sighed. ‘Yeah, you’re right on all counts, but I just don’t know. We’ll see how the next few days pan out.’

  ‘Aye. Well, don’t go home in the dark.’

  ‘Come on. Let’s go.’

  *

  Rosie was pleased to see Tadi’s little boy playing with toys when they stepped into the hallway. Adrian greeted them at the door. The kid looked up, smiled and clapped his hands, seemingly happy with his new surroundings. The resilience of children, Rosie thought, as she clapped her hands back at him. She caught a glimpse of Ava from the living room, giving her a sheepish look.

  ‘Come,’ Adrian said, touching Rosie’s arm. ‘Tadi is in here with his wife. My friends have gone out, so you can talk.’

  Tadi got to his feet and came towards her.

  ‘Rosie. Thank you so much for what you’ve done.’

  Rosie put her hands up and shook her head.

  ‘Not me, Tadi.’ She looked towards Adrian. ‘It was Adrian who did all the hard work.’ She smiled. ‘But what matters is you’re safe now.’

  ‘I will make some tea for you,’ Ava said. She glanced at Rosie as she passed her, and she could see the angst in her expression.

  ‘I’ll help you,’ Rosie said. ‘You guys talk among yourselves for a moment.’

  She followed Ava into the kitchen and watched as she put the kettle on and took cups from a kitchen cupboard. She could see her hands were shaking, but she said nothing. Ava turned around to face her.

  ‘Rosie. About last night. Thank you so much. You . . . you saved us – I am safe with my husband.’ She paused, looking down at the floor for a second and then at Rosie. ‘But, please. Will you please not say to Tadi about . . . about the bedroom.’

  Rosie put her finger to her lips. ‘Of course not.’

  ‘I would die if he knew. I feel so dirty.’

  Rosie said nothing, but she saw the shame in Ava’s eyes.

  ‘What have you told him about the place? What did you tell him went on there?’

  ‘I told him that people come there when they are brought into the country – and that is true. I say that I cooked for them and did some cleaning. And that is also true. But I didn’t tell him about the other . . .’ Her voice trailed off and she swallowed. ‘I . . . I don’t know if he believes me.’

  ‘He will,’ Rosie said, because it was what Ava wanted to hear. ‘Tadi’s only thought right now is that his family is together. So don’t worry.’

  ‘But if he knew, he would never want me again.’

  ‘He will never know. So you must try to put it behind you.’ Rosie went across to the worktop and placed the mugs on a tray. ‘Come on. I want to have a talk with you and Tadi.’

  In the living room, Ava carried the tray and placed it on a coffee table. Rosie sat on a chair next to Matt, conscious of Adrian watching her. She cleared her throat and took a breath, looking at Tadi and Ava holding hands on the sofa.

  ‘So how are you? Relieved, no doubt?’ She smiled.

  Tadi nodded and squeezed Ava’s hand.

  ‘Very happy. But, we k
now it is still many problems. I . . . you know . . . the body, the robbery. I have told Ava about what happened, and the photograph. The old woman. I . . . I don’t know what to do now.’

  Rosie sighed, not sure what to say next, but she had to talk to McGuire in the next half-hour, and she knew exactly what he would want to do.

  She ran a hand over her hair.

  ‘Tadi. Listen. You need to talk to the police. What has happened has really gone too far. It is only a matter of time before the police begin to unravel it. To be honest, you have to go them first.’

  He looked worried.

  ‘But how? What can I say to them: that I watched a man being murdered and then I buried him? That I robbed an old man and his wife and stole a photograph of their son? They will put me in jail.’

  ‘You don’t have a lot of options at the moment. What would happen if you ran away? Where would you go? None of this is right. You have been placed in this situation and you are innocent, and that’s the injustice. But you have to tell the police, before it gets too late.’

  Tadi looked at Adrian, his eyes pleading for advice. But he spread his hands a little and sighed.

  ‘Is for you to decide, Tadi. But Rosie is right to say you do not have options. I would take you to Kosovo if I could, but you would be caught when the authorities saw your passport.’

  Chapter Twenty

  Rory O’Dwyer didn’t speak to Finbar at all during the drive back to the house. There had been no emotion or words of farewell when they’d said goodbye to Timmy at Glasgow’s Central Station. His cousin Mark would accompany Timmy down to Manchester, where he’d be met by a long-time associate of Rory’s who owed him a favour. From there he would simply disappear within the travelling community. The fact that this meant Rory might never see his son again, and that Finbar might never see his brother, was not something that was up for discussion. Needs must. It had to be done. Timmy was toxic. No, he was worse than toxic. He could drag them all down. He couldn’t be relied on to keep his stupid mouth zipped.