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Kill Me Twice: Rosie Gilmour 7

Page 21

by Anna Smith


  Merv shifted in his chair, half smirking and half sympathetic. ‘You weren’t part of her life, son. You may have been her brother, in the early days, but the reality is, this was a lifetime ago. Bella wasn’t part of that world any more. And, I don’t want to insult you at this time, but you certainly weren’t part of her world.’

  ‘But she never forgot me, and I never forgot her. I was just ashamed to go looking for her. That’s why I didn’t contact her. I . . . just didn’t know what to do.’

  ‘Bollocks.’ Merv was angry now. ‘The truth is, you were a cheap little junkie who would have stolen from your sister if you’d had the chance.’

  Dan caught his breath, his lip trembling. ‘That’s not true! I would never have done that! I loved Bella!’

  ‘Well, Bella had long forgotten about you. She was a supermodel. She was famous worldwide. Doors opened everywhere for her. You were not part of her life. You should have accepted that and stayed away from her.’

  ‘It was her who contacted me, Merv. She found me!’

  Merv drained his coffee cup, and Dan noticed his hands were trembling when he put it down. He was rattled. What the fuck would happen now?

  ‘Okay,’ Merv said. ‘I’m going to keep this simple and brief. Come closer to me.’ He lowered his voice and beckoned him.

  Reluctantly Dan leaned towards him. He could smell the coffee on his breath, mingled with the faint smell of aftershave or cologne.

  ‘I want you to listen to me, Dan, and listen good, because I don’t have a lot of time to fuck about here.’

  Dan held his breath.

  ‘Bella made a lot of money in her day. She was a millionaire at least twice over. You knew that, didn’t you? That’s why you more or less stalked her. To get her money so you could blow it all on heroin.’

  ‘That’s not true.’

  ‘Yes, it is, and now you want to get your grubby little junkie hands on her fortune, you fucking little shit.’

  Dan felt dizzy with rage and frustration. He wanted to punch the bastard in the face, but he couldn’t. ‘I don’t,’ he protested. ‘I don’t want that. I’m trying to get clean. It was Bella who looked for me and, actually, you’re the one who keeps phoning me. Why you doing that?’

  ‘Because I know what junkies are like. I know how they bleed people dry. Fucking leeches. I know you want money, so I’m going to give you some. Then I want you to get to fuck out of my life and go back to who you were, a junkie waster. You can blow all the money on heroin for your gutter mates. You’ll be rich for as long as it lasts. It’s up to you what you do with it. But once you get the money, you never, and I mean never, regard yourself as Bella’s brother. Ever again. Do you understand that?’

  ‘I am her brother.’

  ‘You were once, but I told you, Bella forgot about you. So you forget about her. She’s dead now. She can’t help you.’

  ‘You can’t make me do anything.’

  ‘Oh, really?’ He grabbed Dan’s wrist tight. ‘Listen, you little cunt! I can make you disappear. Any fucking day of the week!’

  ‘Like you made Bella disappear?’ Dan was shaking now and close to tears.

  Merv’s face was crimson with fury. ‘Don’t be so fucking stupid. Is that what you’re going to do? Make stupid accusations? Go to the press? The cops? Who’s going to believe a junkie? Now listen. I’ve opened a bank account in your name, and I’m going to deposit a massive sum of money in it, more than you’ve ever dreamed about in your pathetic little life. Three hundred fucking grand. How does that sound, son? Think of all the heroin you could buy.’

  ‘I don’t want heroin. I’m trying to come off it. And I don’t want your money. Bella was my sister. People should know that.’

  ‘Nobody gives a fuck about you or who you are. Listen to me, pal. Junkies die every fucking day of the week, you’ll just be another one.’

  Dan sat in silence. This wasn’t how he’d expected it to go. He thought there would be some talk, then an offer of money. But the bastard was threatening him. He knew the tape was recording it all, and he should feel good about that, but he felt weak and abused, and somewhere inside he was beginning to buckle. He glanced around the room and saw Rosie, Bertie and Matt sitting at a table at the far corner. He felt lightheaded. This bastard was serious. Merv would kill him, just like he’d killed Bella. What if Rosie couldn’t save him? Panic rose in his throat.

  ‘I need to go to the toilet,’ he said. ‘I feel a bit sick.’

  ‘Need a hit? Like your junkie sister? Don’t even think about doing a runner.’ He jerked his head in the direction of the front door. ‘Look. You know that guy with the blond hair at the door and his mate?’

  Dan looked and a shiver ran through him. It was Ricky and Pete.

  Merv snarled, ‘Yeah. I know you recognize him. He’s the bastard who was outside the hospital that day you were with some bird. I know for a fact that she’s a journalist tart, Rosie Gilmour. Scum.’ He sniggered. ‘Are you really so stupid that you think getting cosy with a journalist is going to help you? What do you think you can do? Expose people, you stupid little tit? I’m already onto her, and I’m on to you and your fucking scheme. You’re not going anywhere. You can go to the toilet, but if you leave, you’ll disappear. Those guys have been looking for you for three weeks, but, lo and behold, you were here all the time. Not down south, not anywhere but Glasgow. Right here. So now you’re like a rat in a trap. The only way out for you, pal, is to take the money and run. And keep your mouth fucking shut. Because if you open it I’ll hunt you down. Do you hear me?’

  ‘I need to go to the toilet.’

  ‘Hurry up. It’s down that corridor there.’

  Dan stood up on rubber legs and immediately wanted to sit down again. He felt claustrophobic. Trapped. A cornered rat. He wanted to run across to Rosie, but it would give the game away. But the game was up anyway. This guy would never let him off the hook if he took his money. He walked out of the foyer and down the corridor towards the toilet. Then, suddenly, he saw a fire exit half open. Before he could stop himself, Dan had pushed it open and run outside into the rain. He had to get away. He ran as fast as his jittery legs would carry him.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Rosie had spotted the thug with the bleached-blond hair loitering in the reception area, and she’d alerted Matt and Bertie. But there was nothing they could do except keep an eye on him and his mate. Dan had seemed to be doing okay, until he’d suddenly stood up. They’d assumed he was going to the toilet, but when he didn’t come back, she sent Matt to look for him. Her fears were confirmed when he’d arrived back, shaking his head. They slipped out of another exit and got into Matt’s car.

  ‘Looks like he’s done a runner,’ Matt said. ‘Maybe his bottle just crashed.’

  ‘But he’s got nowhere to go,’ Rosie said, her stomach in knots as they drove around the car park for the second time, looking in every space and behind wheelie-bins, in case he was hiding. ‘I can’t understand it. That big bastard must have said something to him to put serious frighteners on him. He must have had some kind of meltdown.’ She looked out of the passenger window, guilt washing over her. ‘Christ! I should never have involved him.’

  ‘Don’t be daft, Rosie. He wanted to do it. You heard him last night. He was determined to go through with it.’

  ‘I know, but he’s a drug addict. Maybe the methadone gave him a bit of bravado, but once it got scary he felt he was in over his head. I wish he’d given us a sign or something.’

  ‘But, Rosie,’ Bertie said, ‘you don’t know what was being said to the lad. Maybe Mervyn Bates already knows about you and threatened you too. Don’t go over the top worrying till we know where he is.’

  ‘But how the hell are we going to find him?’ Rosie said. ‘He won’t go to his normal places as he knows those guys will get him. And they will find him if he’s walking around, scared. He doesn’t even have any methadone, he’ll be rattling in the next two hours. Jesus! What a bloody mess!’
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  Rosie’s mobile rang, and she saw it was McGuire. She glanced at Matt. ‘Brilliant timing,’ she muttered, then answered it.

  ‘How did the meeting go with Dan and that pervy bastard, Gilmour?’

  ‘Er . . . Mick. There’s a problem.’

  ‘Fuck! Don’t tell me somebody’s dead.’

  ‘No. It’s Dan. He’s disappeared. Right in the middle of the meeting with Merv. We were watching him from the bar. He got up, and we thought he was going to the toilet, but he didn’t come back.’

  ‘Oh, fuck! Have they grabbed him or has he just done a runner? Do you think he’d run out on you?’

  Rosie sighed, frustrated with herself and wondering if she could have made a better plan. ‘Jesus, Mick! I just don’t know. We went over the plan a dozen times. When his chat was finished he was to stand up and head for the front door. But he suddenly goes the other way. Then I spotted that bleached-blond thug and his gorilla mate at the entrance. They seemed to appear from nowhere.’

  ‘Did it look like they went after him?’

  ‘Not straightaway. They just stood there, because they didn’t know he was going to disappear. Then Matt went to look in the toilet. But there was a fire escape door open close to it. I think he’s run out of that. Maybe had some kind of panic attack.’

  ‘Shit! That’s the problem with junkies. I know you feel for the guy, but the point is, you just don’t know what you’re going to get.’

  ‘But he was calm enough before he went in, and as we were driving up towards the hotel he was determined to go through with it. He’d had the methadone and was compos mentis. I never expected this, Mick.’ She paused. ‘I’m really worried about him. He’s out there somewhere and those bastards will hunt him down.’

  ‘So what do you think happened?’

  ‘Don’t know. Maybe Mervyn Bates made some kind of threat. He must have done something to scare him.’

  McGuire was silent for a moment, then said, ‘Or maybe he’s onto the fact that Dan was talking to you and has made him a bigger offer to keep his mouth shut. He could be with them right now.’

  It had never occurred to her that Dan would double-cross her.

  ‘But that would never work. Merv won’t let him live under any circumstances, because as long as Dan’s alive he’s in a position to reveal that he’s Bella’s brother, and detail the abuse that Bella told him about. Merv will have to eliminate that threat no matter what. He’ll do him in, Mick, just like he did Bella.’

  ‘So, what now?’

  ‘I’ve not got a lot of options. But as soon as I think of something I’ll give you a shout. I’m going to look for him.’

  ‘Rosie, be careful. Don’t you think you should call your mate in the police? See if we can talk to them about it?’

  ‘Maybe. But I want to have a look first.’

  ‘Well, just watch yourself. Phone me in an hour and we can talk again.’

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘And, Gilmour, this is not your fault, so don’t start all that beating yourself up shit.’

  She hung up, dread making her nauseous.

  *

  Rosie was glad to see Mitch sitting up in bed and trying his best to smile when he saw them come into the room. His face was still puffy around the eyes and he had bandages on his arms. He glanced at Bertie, then back to Rosie.

  ‘Mitch, this is Bertie Shaw. He’s a good friend of mine. He’s helping on the story. You can trust him.’

  Mitch nodded as Rosie, Matt and Bertie stood by his bedside. He grimaced as he shifted his position a little. ‘Where’s Dan?’ he asked.

  Rosie moved closer to the bed. ‘That’s why we’re here, Mitch. He’s disappeared.’

  ‘What? How?’

  ‘He had a meeting with that Mervyn Bates – the guy who was Bella’s manager.’

  Mitch nodded.

  ‘Well, the meeting was in the Holiday Inn and we were watching from the bar. But Dan went to the toilet and never came back.’

  Mitch shook his head and blew out a sigh. ‘Fuck!’ he said, his lips barely moving. ‘Fuck’s sake!’

  ‘Mitch,’ Rosie touched his arm. ‘I need your help here. You know Dan will be in danger if I can’t get to him soon. Those guys are after him, and he’s out there in the city on his own. Have you any idea where I can go looking for him?’

  Mitch sighed wearily. ‘Aw, man! Poor wee bastard! He’ll be shitting himself. You need to find him, Rosie.’

  ‘I will. But where will he be? He won’t go back to his usual haunts and dealers, because those guys will have been onto them. That’s how they found you that day, by going round the houses.’ Rosie paused. ‘So is there anywhere at all you think he might be?’

  Mitch was silent for a moment, then he moved his head slightly for Rosie to hand him his mobile phone. ‘There’s a wee guy up in Ruchill – in a flat there. It’s a real shitehouse, but if Dan’s out in the street and got nowhere to go for some gear, he might go there as a last resort.’ He moved again and his face contorted with pain. ‘I can’t remember the address, though. Somewhere up near Bilsland Drive, a cul-de-sac. But you can’t just go asking around or you’ll get lynched. If I could get out this bed I could take you there.’ He tried to sit up, but slumped back down.

  ‘You can’t, Mitch. No chance of that. You’ve a bit to go before you can even get on your feet.’

  Mitch scanned some numbers on his phone. ‘Look. Take this number. When you get to Bilsland Drive, phone this guy. He’s a fucking wee polecat, but tell him to give you the number of the house. Say you’re a mate of mine. He owes me one. That’s all I can think of, Rosie. It’s about the only other place Dan knew for drugs. He took me there one time and we bought some kit on tick till we got the money to pay. But it ended up costing us double. It’s that kind of place.’

  Rosie punched the number into her phone, then turned to Bertie and Matt. ‘Might be our only option, guys.’ She squeezed Mitch’s arm. ‘Thanks, Mitch. I hope it works. You just relax and we’ll let you know how it goes.’

  ‘You need to find him, Rosie. Dan’s like a wee boy sometimes.’

  ‘I know,’ Rosie said. ‘By the way, how’s it going in here with you?’

  ‘It’s all right. Free morphine and stuff. Not bad. They’ve had some rehab guy in to talk to me. Said they’re going to get me a bed in some place. I’m up for that.’

  ‘Good,’ Rosie said, trying to get to grips with his outlook when free morphine and a spell in rehab were a goal worth achieving.

  ‘Find my wee mate, will you, Rosie?’

  ‘Sure I will.’ Rosie said, as he closed his eyes.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Rosie knew the street well enough. She had plenty of bleak memories of knocking on doors at houses like this, wondering what kind of picture of despair and poverty would greet her on the other side. It passed for a life here in the north side of Glasgow – the poverty, the drunkenness, the gang fights. But that was before the heroin explosion took the ghetto to a new level. Now, like so many of the housing schemes across the city, where being poor and out of work was normal, the streets were a breeding ground for heroin. Mothers buried daughters barely out of their teens. Hope had all but vanished, except for the dealers on the corners or in some of the dens who would make enough to get them to hell out of it before they were caught by the police.

  Heroin didn’t have the whiff of glamour that coke had, where nightclubs buzzed with it and cokeheads felt they’d reached a level of success by doing a few lines on a night out. Heroin was the dark refuge the desperate sought when all hope was gone. And once they’d been wrapped in that warm blanket or, more recently, in that of crack cocaine, there was seldom a way back. In this street there was probably only one small-time heroin dealer, but there would be several heroin dens, where junkies dumped themselves of an evening. Dan would be no stranger to places like this. Why hadn’t he phoned her? His mobile was in his pocket and he had her number. She kept looking at her phone, willing it to ring.
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  ‘Okay, let’s try this punter now.’ Rosie punched in the number as they pulled into the kerb. A couple of kids eyed them suspiciously. They wouldn’t be able to loiter here too long.

  ‘Who’s this?’

  ‘Hello? Is that Jimbo?’

  ‘Who’s this?’

  ‘Jimbo, I’m a pal of Mitch Gilland. You know him? He gave me your number. I’m looking for someone. Where is the place he sometimes comes to?’

  ‘Aye, I know Mitch. He’s all right. Where are you?’

  ‘Bilsland Drive.’

  ‘How do I know you’re not the polis?’

  ‘You don’t, Jimbo. Listen, pal. Can you just help me out? I need to find someone. Really fast.’ Rosie paused. ‘Mitch says he’ll weigh you in as soon as he can.’

  ‘Mitch is in the hospital. I heard he got a right doin’.’

  ‘That’s right. He did. You know who did it?’

  ‘Naw. Just heard it was some fuckers not from here. Mitch is all right.’

  ‘Have you seen his mate Dan?’

  ‘Naw. But I only came in here this morning. I was down in Shettleston last night.’

  ‘Listen, Jimbo, can you just give me the address?’

  ‘All right, then, but it didn’t come from me.’

  ‘Of course not. Mitch said you can trust us.’

  ‘Okay. It’s number one two nine. Ground floor. It’s got an aluminium door on it, but it’s not fixed right. You just push it hard.’ He hung up.

  Rosie looked up at the numbers on the houses. They were at number fifty-seven. ‘Along here a bit, Matt. It’s number one two nine.’

  ‘What if this bastard’s alerted them, Rosie? We’ll get our heads cleaved off.’ Matt said, as they drove towards the house. ‘This feels a bit crazy. Dan might not even be there.’

  ‘I know, but it’s the only place we can try. Most of the people inside will be out of their box, so it should be okay.’ Rosie turned to Bertie. ‘What do you think?’

 

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