by Mark Tilbury
Maddie took a deep breath and tried to stay positive as Crowley parked next to his mobile home. ‘I can’t stay for long. I’ve got an early start in the morning.’
‘You could stop over. Let me give you a lift in the morning.’
Maddie shivered. ‘No thanks.’
‘I’m only kidding. Come on; it’s bloody freezing out here.’
Maddie followed Crowley up the metal steps and into the mobile home.
Like a lamb to the slaughter.
He switched on the light and closed the door. ‘I’ll make you some hot chocolate, if you like.’
Don’t drink anything. He might drug it. ‘No. Thanks. I still feel a bit sick.’ The truth.
Crowley told Maddie to go and sit in the lounge. ‘It’s not much, but it keeps the rain off my head.’
Maddie looked around the room. The lounge was separated from the kitchen area by an imitation pine partition. She sat down on a threadbare green and white checked sofa. There was a TV and DVD combo sitting on top of an old pine unit in one corner of the room. The place looked tidy enough, apart from a few dirty cups and plates stacked near the sink. It reeked of damp and stale tobacco. And something else Maddie couldn’t identify.
Rotting flesh.
She shuddered and pulled her coat tight around her neck.
‘I know it’s parky in here, but if I light the paraffin heater it’ll stink the place out. I can’t win. It’s either freeze or die of toxic poisoning.’
Maddie was relieved to have an excuse to keep her coat on.
‘Would you like a cup of tea?’
‘I don’t want anything in case it upsets my stomach.’
‘Water?’
‘No. Thanks.’
‘Make yourself comfortable. I’m going outside to have a fag.’
‘Is it all right if I use the loo?’
‘Yeah. Last door on the right.’
Maddie escaped to the toilet. She locked the door and took her phone out of her bag. She texted Ben to tell him that she thought Crowley was hiding something up in a bedroom at his mother’s house. She also told him she would wait for about half an hour, and then get Crowley to give her a lift into town. He could come and pick her up as soon as she was ready. She also reminded Ben not to text her back, because she was switching her phone off.
Maddie sat on the toilet. She needed to focus on the job in hand. Establish a suitable place to put the R27 transmitter. Somewhere he would never look. Somewhere the transmitter would pick up everything Crowley said.
If you ever have the confidence to bring the damned thing with you.
She just needed to get her bearings. Familiarise herself with the place. Get to know Crowley better. Get him to trust her. Establish boundaries.’
Crowley called out. ‘Are you all right in there?’
Maddie switched off the phone and flushed the toilet. ‘Yes. Fine. I’ll be out in a minute.’ She was about to open the door when she heard a woman’s voice. At first Maddie thought Crowley was mucking about. Impersonating a woman.
‘Hello, Frank. Looking forward to Christmas?’
‘What the fuck do you want?’
‘Is that any way to greet a guest? I’ve just walked halfway along Feelham river to come and visit you.’
‘You’ve had a wasted journey, then.’
Maddie heard a door slam. Followed by: ‘Get out!’
‘I’m not going anywhere, Frank. We’ve got business to attend to.’
‘I’m busy.’
Maddie looked at the tiny toilet window. She tried to imagine crawling through it.
Yeah, right, if you lost two stone in as many minutes.
‘I thought you wanted to do business? Said you were eager to get the deal done.’
‘Not now. I told you, I’m—’
‘What are you busy with? Let me guess, you’re about to settle down for the evening with your right hand and a stack of mucky films?’
‘I’ve got company.’
‘What company?’
‘My girlfriend’s here.’
‘You haven’t got a girlfriend, Crowley.’
‘Yes, I have.’
‘Where is she, then? Hiding away in your imagination?’
‘She’s in the bog.’
Footsteps approached the toilet. There was a kick on the bottom of the door. ‘Who’s in there?’
Maddie held her breath. Shit, shit, shit. Now what was she going to do?
‘You’ve got ten seconds to open this door, or I’ll shoot the lock off.’
Maddie’s heart flushed itself down the loo.
‘One… two… three…’
‘Wait. I’ve got a bad stomach.’
‘I don’t care if you’ve got the plague. I’ll give you two minutes, then I’m going to start shooting.’
Maddie heard footsteps retreat along the hallway. The woman told Crowley to sit down and keep his mouth shut.
Now look what you’ve done! Why didn’t you listen to Ben? Why didn’t you take the R27 with you? Why don’t you ever stop to consider things? Now you’re probably going to die. And for what? Because Maddie always knows best?
She switched her attention to her phone. She didn’t want this mystery woman using it to identify her.
‘You’ve got thirty seconds,’ the woman called. ‘That’s half a minute, in case you’re easily confused.’
Maddie rummaged through her bag. Just her purse, which contained about three pounds in loose change and a card for a local cab company. A lip seal. A pack of tissues. Nothing that would give her away.
‘Ten seconds.’
Maddie lifted the lid off the cistern and dropped her phone inside. She replaced the lid and flushed the chain.
‘Five.’
She unlocked the toilet door and stepped out into the hallway, clutching her bag to her chest.
The woman stood a few feet away. She was decked out in black motorcycle leathers and a crash helmet. The visor was partially raised. She pointed a large brown handgun at Maddie. ‘Nice to meet you, at last.’
‘Please. I—’
‘Shut up. Go and sit on the sofa next to lover boy.’
Maddie’s knees almost buckled. She gasped for breath. ‘Who are you?’
‘Never mind who I am. You just do as I say if you want to celebrate Christmas this year.’
Maddie sat on the sofa. ‘I… I don’t understand. What is this?’
Crowley looked at Maddie with eyes stoked full of terror. ‘Don’t worry. It’ll be all right.’
‘What a lovely couple you two make. The beauty and the beast.’
Crowley cleared his throat. ‘She’s—’
‘Let me guess. A prostitute?’
Maddie thought anything was better than the truth. ‘That’s right. I’m a prostitute.’
Crowley’s eyes widened. ‘You’re not. Don’t put yourself d—’
‘Save your breath, pervert. I’m not interested. As far as I’m concerned, only a whore or your mother would come anywhere near you.’
‘I don’t know who you are or why you’re here,’ Maddie said. ‘It’s none of my business. I don’t care. But—’
‘Shut up, whore.’
‘If you let me go, I won’t tell a soul.’
‘You’re very well-spoken for a whore. Let me guess: mummy and daddy spoiled you rotten. Lavished you with the best of everything. But that wasn't enough you. You wanted excitement. Not their boring, predictable life. Am I getting warm?’
‘I—’
‘So you got into drugs and ended up on the game screwing retards like Frank Crowley.’
‘That’s not true,’ Crowley said. ‘Maddie’s not a whore.’
The woman aimed the gun at his head. ‘You wouldn’t recognise the truth if it jumped up and bit you on the nose, pervert.’
‘I don’t have any parents,’ Maddie said. ‘I grew up in a children’s home.’
‘And now you’re going to die in a mobile home. All because you couldn’t keep y
our knickers on.’
‘Let her go. She’s got nothing to do with this.’
‘She’s got everything to do with this. She’s here, isn’t she?’
‘I won’t tell anyone,’ Maddie tried again. ‘I promise.’
‘That’s what they all say. Right up until your back’s turned. And then, bam! The world is full of cowards and liars, and you’re no different, whore.’
‘I’m—’
‘Shut up! For once you need to keep both your mouth and your legs shut. Tie her up, Crowley. She’s going in the boot of your car.’
‘I’ve got nothing to tie her up with.’
The woman reached into her jacket pocket and took out a roll of duct tape. She threw it on the floor. ‘Then it’s a good job I brought something with me, isn’t it?’
‘I can’t go in the boot,’ Maddie said. ‘I’m claustrophobic.’
‘Would you prefer I shoot you first?’
‘I get panicky in confined spaces. I can’t breathe.’
‘You don’t need to explain claustrophobia to me, whore; I’m not illiterate.’
‘No, you’re a psychopath,’ Crowley muttered.
‘I’d think twice about throwing insults at me if I were you, Crowley.’
‘Okay. I’m sorry,’ Crowley babbled. ‘Maybe I got greedy. I’ll settle for ten grand. That’s it. No strings. You won’t hear from me again.’
The woman laughed. ‘That ship has sailed, you stupid man. You’ll not get another penny piece out of me.’
‘You’re forgetting—’
‘I’m forgetting nowt.’ She turned her attention back to Maddie. ‘Throw your bag on the floor. Then I want you to stand up and put your hands behind your back.’
Maddie did as she was told. There was little point in arguing. She might get a chance to run once they got outside. Or maybe someone would see what was happening and call the cops.
Crowley wrapped the tape around her wrists, securing her hands behind her back. For the briefest moment, she almost believed that Frank Crowley was just an innocent victim of this cold-hearted woman.
‘Tape her mouth. I don’t want her to start wailing like a banshee once we get outside.’
‘I’m sorry,’ Crowley whispered. He secured Maddie’s mouth with several layers of tape. ‘I’m so sorry.’
‘Right, if you’re done apologising, we’re going to walk the whore to your car. The whore goes first. Then you. I’ll be right behind you. One false move and you will never walk again. Is that clear?’
‘Yes.’
‘You can take that sly look out of your eyes. It’s making my trigger-finger itchy.’
Crowley looked at the floor.
‘Once the whore is in the boot, we’re going to walk straight back over here. Sit down and see if we can’t come to some arrangement.’
Crowley perked up. ‘Really?’
‘We’ll see. Aye, we’ll see.’
Chapter Twenty-Four
Crowley sat on the sofa and stared down the barrel of Connie Sykes’s gun. He’d already soiled his pants. More of a liquid fart, but embarrassing and uncomfortable all the same. ‘I’ve got the film secure. You ain’t never going to get your hands on it if you do anything to me.’
Connie Sykes removed her crash helmet and put it on the coffee table. She picked up Maddie’s handbag and rifled through it. ‘Do you really think I give a toss about your idle threats?’
Frank tried to light a cigarette. His hands shook so badly he scorched his nose trying to get the damn thing lit. ‘You ought to; there’s stuff in that film that could send you down for twenty years.’
‘No one will ever see it, though, will they?’
‘They will if you don’t—’
‘Don’t what? Give you ten grand?’
‘I’d settle for that. I told you.’
‘Or maybe you still want my house?’
‘No, I don’t—’
‘Or my whole effing life?’
‘No.’
‘I could throw Da in for good measure, if you like. You could spend the rest of your days wiping his backside and mopping up his dribble.’
‘I just want what’s fair. Nothing else. I’m not greedy.’
‘I’m pleased to hear it. Now, here’s the thing, Frank. You don’t mind me calling you Frank?’
‘I’ve been called worse.’
‘With good reason, I fear. The thing is, Frank, you don’t need money.’
‘I do. I’ve got—’
‘Needs?’
‘And bills to pay.’
‘And whores. We don’t want to go forgetting them, do we? How much do they charge? Fifty quid a time? A hundred?’
‘Maddie’s not—’
‘Not a whore? So you keep saying. But I don’t believe you. Only a whore would come within ten feet of your stinking body.’
‘All I want is a poxy ten grand,’ Crowley squawked. ‘Then I’ll walk away. I won’t come back to work or anywhere near you ever again. I promise.’
‘And I have your word on that?’
‘Absolutely.’
‘And what do you think your word is worth, Frank?’
‘My word is my bond.’
Connie laughed. ‘Your word isn’t worth tuppence. I’d be more trusting of a fox in a chicken coop. The only way I could trust you to keep your mouth shut is by killing you.’
Crowley stared at the barrel of the gun. ‘You wouldn’t dare.’
‘Dead men don’t talk.’
‘I’ve got copies of that film,’ Frank lied. ‘In a safety deposit box.’
‘Really? Where?’
Crowley tucked his hands under his legs in an effort to stop them shaking. ‘That would be telling.’
‘The game’s up, Frank. You had your chance.’
‘Okay. Okay. I don’t want no more money.’
‘Your demands grow ever more schizophrenic. Money. More money. My house. Less money. No money. Thank heavens you’re not a police negotiator.’
‘Let’s just call it quits? Please. Before it gets out of hand.’
‘It’s already out of hand, Frank. Remember I told you the story of the dog and the bone? You just dropped the bone. It all comes down to a matter of trust. And I don’t trust you. Let’s say, for arguments sake, that I agree to “call it quits”. Walk away. Bury the hatchet. Or the bone if you like. I’d give it a week before you were back on the phone making fresh demands.’
Crowley’s Adam’s apple bobbed up and down. ‘I won’t. It’s over. I can’t be—’
‘You’ve already proved yourself to be a greedy little liar.’
‘I’m—’
‘Didn’t your mother ever tell you that liars and cheats never prosper?’
‘If I’m a liar, God knows what that makes you.’
‘That makes me the one with the gun.’
‘You won’t get away with killing me.’
‘Your death will look like an accident.’
‘The cops aren’t stupid. They’ve got all that forensic stuff nowadays.’
Connie didn’t seem to hear him. ‘Once everything is done and dusted, I’m moving away. A place where there are no dirty little maintenance men hiding cameras in the toilets at work. How could you stoop so low? Filming staff going about their private business?’
‘I wasn’t—’
‘Save your breath for God. He’ll be the judge of a filthy little pervert who likes watching women defecating and changing their tampons.’
‘That’s nothing compared to what you’ve done.’
‘You don’t know the first thing about me.’
‘I know what—’
‘I’m doing something important. Something worthwhile. Something your budget brain would never understand.’
‘You drugged and kidnapped a care assistant. How the fuck is that “worthwhile”?’
‘I’m not answerable to you.’
Frank took a final roll of the dice and prayed for a double six. ‘Maddie’s a cop.�
�
‘Liar.’
‘Why would I lie? You’ve made it clear you’re going to kill me. So kill me. Maddie’s here because I’ve told her everything. We set a trap for you. The cops will be here soon. Maddie was wearing a wire. Everything’s been recorded.’
Connie looked out the window and tapped the gun against her thigh, as if marking time.
‘The cops are parked down by the river.’
Connie cocked the gun and aimed it at Crowley’s head. ‘If you were telling the truth, they’d be here by now.’
‘They will be.’
‘Really? So, tell me this: how did you know I was coming here tonight?’
Crowley looked at the floor. ‘Lucky guess.’
‘Lucky guess, my eye. The girl’s a whore. A desperate one, at that.’
‘If you say so.’
‘I do. So shut up and tell me where the film is.’
Crowley thought about rushing her. Butting her in the midriff with his head. Taking the bitch by surprise. But his days of speed were well and truly behind him. Delusion would only serve to get him killed.
‘So where is it? In this dirty hovel?’
‘No.’ The truth. He looked away. That glass eye always made him feel like there was something perched on his shoulder.
‘If you tell me, I won’t kill you.’
‘Liar. You said you’d make it look like an accident, remember?’
‘I’m allowed to change my mind. It’s a woman’s prerogative.’
‘I’m still not telling you.’
‘Okay. Let’s spell out your options, Crowley. You tell me where the film is, I’ll spare you. If you don’t tell me where it is, I’ll kill you. And your mother. How’s that for a deal?’
‘You leave Mother out of this. It’s got nothing to do with her.’
‘It’s got everything to do with her. She gave birth to you.’
‘She’s old. She’s not well.’
‘Then I’d be doing the world a favour, wouldn’t I? Do you have any idea how many geriatrics are on the waiting list clamouring for beds?’
‘Mother’s not waiting for a bed. She takes care of herself.’
‘But it’s only a matter of time, isn’t it?’
He was about to reveal his plan to give her an attic room in his guesthouse down in Brighton, but reality clamped his tongue. Brighton seemed about as far away as the moon right now. ‘I’ll take care of her when the time comes.’