Fighting Chance

by Shaun Baines

  The figure was standing deathly still, a spectre in the smoke. As the mist cleared, Scott saw its clothing was torn to bloody shreds. The head lolled to one side. Half of the skull was missing, exposing a brain that dripped in spongy globules to the floor.

  It wasn’t a figure. It was a body, strapped to an upright gurney with a rifle taped and mounted in its hand. Another band of tape covered the mouth.

  “Shit, you know who that is, don’t you?” Bronson asked.

  The lifeless eyes of Dougherty stared at them. He wore the makeshift tourniquet Mosely had tied around his leg. He’d been riddled with bullets and, although it was Scott and his men who shot him, Scott recognised the hand of Fairbanks.

  “That’s the guy from the mugshots you’ve been showing around,” Jake said. “What is he doing here?”

  “Facing an execution squad,” Bronson said, desperately wiping his gun free of prints.

  Bronson had guessed correctly, but there was no point in cleaning down their weapons, thought Scott. Fingerprints or not, they were getting convicted. He pulled off his respirator and ski mask and welcomed the sting of the CR gas on his skin. They had been framed for murder with such eloquence, Scott almost smiled.

  He wasn’t surprised to hear police sirens outside.

  ***

  Ed threw his night vision binoculars into the back seat of his BMW. He watched in astonishment as police cars surrounded the warehouse, their blue lights flashing. Armed tactical support jumped from an unmarked van, their bulky Kevlar vests giving them the look of mountain gorillas. Uniforms swarmed about like bees while POCT – the Priority and Organised Crime Team – dressed in shabby plain clothes, ordered each other about. It was chaos and his son was in the middle of it.

  His car was parked behind a billboard advertising life insurance. Ed was too high profile and too old to be part of the action. With the arrival of the authorities, even at this distance, he was being drawn in closer than he liked. The BMW roared into life and Ed ran away.

  Everyone in the warehouse would be fitted for handcuffs. When the police finished with that, they’d search the surrounding areas. Scott was going to prison. There was nothing he could do about that, but he had no intention of following him. Slipping into the anonymity of the A69 traffic, Ed drove back to Newcastle looking for somewhere to hide.

  He jumped when his phone vibrated. Fumbling inside his jacket, he pulled it out to see another text from Monica. He didn’t bother to open it.

  “Can’t you leave me alone for five minutes,” he said, dropping his phone into the passenger seat. He’d been dodging her all day. It was always one of two things with her. His wife was feeling insecure again and wanted him to comfort her or some such shit, or she wanted money.

  Ed drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. “Sorry, love, but I’m fresh out of both right now.”

  They’d taken a massive loss tonight with consequences he didn’t dare to speculate on. It was supposed to be about turning the tables and taking back his dignity. Instead, he had slipped down another rung in the ladder and he had no idea how.

  “Get a grip on yourself, man,” he said.

  His phone rang. Glancing at the screen, he saw it was Noodles and put it on speakerphone. “Noodles, we’ve got a problem.”

  “I know, sir. That’s why I’m calling. The money stolen from our safe house was destined to several high ranking members of the Police Executive. It was due to be paid today. They want to know why it wasn’t.”

  “What did you tell them?”

  “That you were in the process of getting it back.”

  Ed chewed at the corner of his thumb, spitting a sliver of skin onto the passenger seat. “We haven’t got it, Noodles. We got royally fucked.”

  Noodles drew in a calming breath. Ed heard it rattling in his lungs. “How fucked, Mr Dayton?”

  “Like ‘we’re going to need stitches’ fucked. They’ll have to wait until we can free up some cash. There’s nothing I can do about it now.”

  “I suggest you try. My earlier warnings of safeguarding one’s reputation have come to pass. No-one knows who Fairbanks is, but they know he’s usurping our power. Our friends in high places are squeezing us while they can.”

  “They’re asking for more?”

  “Fifteen percent.”

  “On top of what they already get? What if I refuse?”

  He heard Noodles pacing. “All previous protections are withdrawn.”

  Ed took a roundabout too fast, swerving into the wrong lane. A housewife in her silver 4x4 honked her horn. Ed gained control of his BMW and flipped her his middle finger.

  “Is there any other good news?” he asked.

  The sun was rising. A pink halo lit the city rooftops and the streetlamps blinked out as he passed them. Ed worked late most nights. He hadn’t seen a sunrise in years. He’d forgotten how peaceful they were.

  “Tony sent Scott the count before it was stolen,” Noodles said. “It was half what we’d usually expect.”

  He disconnected the call and detoured into an estate in Blaydon. Parking in an anonymous street of terraced housing, he watched as families closed the doors to their homes and went about their day. Mothers and fathers went to work. Children went to school. They’d return later, talk about what they did, have tea, watch telly and go to bed. A normal life to be repeated when the sun rose again tomorrow.

  Withholding payments or demanding more would become the norm. He kidded himself that people obeyed him out of respect. It was fear that made them compliant. No-one was scared anymore and the Daytons lost power because of it. In a way, Fairbanks’ job was already done. If he did nothing else, the rot had set in. The timbers of Ed’s empire were crumbling, together with his resolve.

  He didn’t want to go home. Dougherty was waiting to be interrogated. Mosely would be stoned. Favours needed to be called in. It was too much business and too many problems to face. At one time, closing the doors at Five Oaks kept his troubles at bay. This morning he feared he’d be trapped inside with them and unable to escape with his sanity.

  A young mother and her two sons walked toward his car. She had blonde hair and wore a slim fitting trouser suit. Her children were around two years old dressed in matching dungarees and strapped in a harness each. Their unsteady legs pulled mercilessly against their restraints, their faces red with the effort. He smiled as their mother leaned back to take the strain. She noticed him and smiled back.

  Starting his engine, he slowly pulled away and headed to Gateshead where he was sure of a warm welcome. On his way, Noodles called back with grim tidings.

  Chapter Nineteen

  After his father burned him at Nail Fantastic and Mosely burned down the building, Daniel was uncomfortable. He couldn’t explain why Dougherty was left behind as a loose end. The question was like an itch between his shoulder blades and it wouldn’t go away.

  Following the receptionist’s directions at the hospital, he was surprised to receive a call from Lily. Calming himself down, he attempted to smile when he answered. His forced joviality didn’t last long. Her name was still down as Scott’s emergency contact and she outlined the details she’d received from a sympathetic policeman. They kept their chat brief and Daniel ended the call more confused than ever.

  He sat quietly by Scalper’s bedside, reluctant to wake him while he pondered over what Lily had told him.

  Scalper woke with a start. “Jesus, I’m thirsty,” he said.

  “You can talk?” Daniel asked.

  “Isn’t that a line from Pinocchio? I can talk, but I’ve been warned about over doing it.”

  Scalper winced as he reached for a glass of water. Daniel got it for him and pressed it to his lips. Scalper slapped his hand away and took the glass for himself.

  Daniel sat down and searched for something to say. “Don’t think I’ve ever seen you with hair.”

  Scalper rubbed a tentative hand over his skull, feeling the prickle of his returning hair. “Can’t bring myself to shave
. Just the thought of a razor…”

  Scalper trailed off and a silence fell between them. Daniel looked around the room, impressed by the number of flowers and Get Well Soon cards on display. “You could open your own shop with all of these, mate.”

  “What are you doing here?” Scalper asked.

  Daniel admired Scalper and his loyalty to the Daytons, but he didn’t really know him and there was no point in pretending. Just like his phone call with Lily, some situations couldn’t be forced. Best if it was kept to business.

  “You know Lily? Scott’s wife?”

  “Sure. There’s a card on there from her. I’m sorry I was too busy flying the light fantastic to thank her.”

  “She called this morning. Scott’s been taken to Ponteland station. He’s been charged with the murder of Marcus Dougherty.”

  Scalper stared blankly at Daniel.

  “Do you remember the guy who pretended to have Fairbanks pinned against the wall?”

  “The spotty one? Face like a pan of smashed crabs?”

  Daniel nodded, but Scalper still looked confused. “Scott killed him for me?”

  “I’m not sure. As far as I knew, Dougherty was at Five Oaks. He was a loose end for Fairbanks. I’d been wondering how it was going to get tied up. I guess Fairbanks found a way of getting Scott to do his dirty work for him. I don’t know how he got to the warehouse.”

  “Warehouse?” Scalper sat upright, ignoring the pain in his body, though it was plain to see on his face.

  “I don’t know the whole story,” Daniel said. “There’s been a lot going on and I haven’t got time to give you all the details.”

  “Wait a minute, Daniel. I take the beating of a lifetime and you’re keeping me in the dark, like a fucking mushroom. No-one’s said shit to me since I woke up here. My body might be broken, but I’m not. I don’t need protecting.”

  “I’m not trying to protect you.”

  “It’s bloody typical. You’re like that dick Mosely.”

  “What?” Daniel blinked twice. He was the unlikely visitor. He wouldn’t have been here at all if he didn’t need something, but Mosely was the last person he expected by Scalper’s bedside.

  “He came by and apologised for what happened at the Glitterball,” Scalper said. “He felt guilty for smashing my comms, but it wasn’t really his fault.”

  Daniel had been told what happened. He didn’t think it was Mosely’s fault either. He blamed Fairbanks for everything and saw his work everywhere, from Eisha’s coma, Dougherty’s death to Scalper’s scars. He was the puppet master and they all danced to his tune.

  Scalper continued. “He said he’d let me know what happened to a friend of mine called Jackie, but he never came back. I knew I shouldn’t have trusted him.”

  At Nail Fantastic, Daniel focused on his interrogation with Dougherty, making a special effort to ignore Mosely, a man he did know, but didn’t like. He hadn’t questioned his possession of morphine like his father. He wasn’t into the drug scene and had accepted Mosely’s explanation without much thought, but he had wondered over the tourniquet. It was basic first aid, but for a self-centred prick like Mosely who didn’t help anyone but himself, it was pretty advanced.

  There was only one conclusion. Mosely knew about Dougherty and his exploded knee cap beforehand. Begging his father to be the one who took him to Five Oaks, Mosely delivered him to the warehouse as per Fairbanks’ instructions so he could be executed by Scott. When the trap snapped shut, Fairbanks was rid of his treacherous boss and his enemies were sent to jail. It was genius.

  “What did you and Mosely talk about?” Daniel asked.

  “He did all the talking, as per usual. I couldn’t speak. I would have torn my stitches.”

  “You didn’t tell him anything?”

  Scalper shook his head.

  “Just as well. He’s been playing both sides. I think Mosely was here to find out what you knew. It’s lucky you had your mouth stitched shut.”

  Scalper looked confused. “He was here to kill me?”

  “You were another loose end. He was probably carrying a dirty syringe with your name on it.”

  But then Daniel began to doubt his assumption. Fairbanks killed people who might grass him up, but he had only maimed Scalper. Severely maimed, but still. Had he cut open his face because he knew it would be stitched shut? Had that been his way of silencing Scalper without the need of killing him? If that were true, was this Fairbanks’ way of showing mercy? The questions chilled him, but there was a cruel logic to it that fit his character. He didn’t smile, but he wanted to. Daniel was starting to get a feel for who Fairbanks was.

  “How long has this been going on?” Scalper asked.

  He folded his arms and leaned back into his chair. “I’ll tell you what I know. You deserve that much, but I came here to find out about Fairbanks so I need you to tell me everything you know first. And make sure that includes Mosely the snake.”

  Daniel traced the angry scar from Scalper’s lip to under his right eyeball. It was weeping blood. “Do you think you can talk for that long?”

  ***

  Leaving an exhausted Scalper to sleep, it was clear Fairbanks had infiltrated further into the Daytons than anybody had realised, like a tapeworm, growing and twisting inside its host.

  Mosely had either been bought or threatened into working with him. Either explanation fit with a man who drugged women before sleeping with them. Daniel knew who to visit next, but he was close enough to the Children’s Ward to quickly see his daughter.

  As he approached, he saw the Ward Sister through the open door to Eisha’s room. She was taking readings from the monitor and scribbling on a clipboard. He entered quietly. It was only when she heard the click of the closing door that she realised she wasn’t alone. She dropped her pen in fright. He picked it up, placing it in his top pocket.

  The Ward Sister pushed out her ample chest. “I’m carrying a panic button, Mr Dayton.”

  “I take it you’ve found Eisha’s records?”

  She reached into her hair and pulled out a second pen that held it in a bun on the top of her head. Her grey hair tumbled in locks around her face. She shook her head so it fell behind her shoulders.

  Daniel was momentarily distracted.

  “Yes, we have,” she said. “Who told you?”

  “No-one, but if you hadn’t, you’d have already pushed your silly button. As if that would have made a difference.”

  “You’re a bully, Mr Dayton. A mistake was made. I have corrected it and your daughter is back in safe hands.”

  “Whose hands? Yours or Hilltop’s?”

  The Ward Sister pretended to read through her notes on the clipboard. She made a few additions and checked the monitor again. Seemingly satisfied, she attempted to leave, but Daniel blocked her way. “Where is he?”

  “Dr Hilltop is a very busy man and I am not his keeper.”

  “The last time we spoke, I got the impression you lacked confidence in the good doctor, but because you’re a professional, you tried to protect him. You’re doing the same thing now, but he only needs protecting if the accusations against him are false.”

  “This is my career, Mr Dayton. Some might say my life. You have no right to come in here and try to destroy it.”

  “Yes, I do,” he said, pointing at his daughter. “She gives me that right.”

  Stepping around the Ward Sister, he went to Eisha’s bedside. She was paler than before, her lips drained of blood. Even the hair she delighted in brushing every night lacked lustre. His daughter was slipping away and try as he might, there wasn’t a thing he could do to stop it.

  “She’s turning into a waxwork,” Daniel said.

  The Ward Sister joined him, placing a comforting hand on his forearm. Daniel flinched at her touch and she quickly withdrew it. “I won’t lie Mr Dayton, the longer she’s in a coma, the worse it will get. I can assure you we’re doing everything we can. Dr Hilltop has been very attentive.”

  �
��If he was so attentive,” Daniel asked, “where was he the other night?”

  She looked through the window in the door and then down at her shoes. “He was sick.”

  “But he’s back? And he gave you the records?”

  “Yes.”

  “He’s been in to see her?”

  “There’s nothing on the charts.”

  He threw his hands in the air. “Fucking hell, woman. Do I have to drag it out of you each time? He’s putting my daughter in danger. He doesn’t deserve your loyalty. Just fucking talk. What aren’t you telling me?”

  She opened her mouth, but clamped it shut without making a sound.

  “I won’t tell anyone,” Daniel assured her.

  Daniel looked at his watch, not just to check the time, but to show the Ward Sister it was an issue.

  “I didn’t find those records. Dr Hilltop made an appearance and I took them before he had a chance to squirrel them away.”

  “Did he say why he was keeping them secret?”

  She shook her head. “But he handed them over pretty quick. He knew he was in the wrong.”

  “What did the records say?”

  “What I expected them to. Your daughter was admitted with a trauma to the back of her head causing unconsciousness. No liquid in her nose or ears. Pupils unresponsive. No other injury, internal or external. Effectively, your daughter is asleep. We have to wait until she wakes up.”

  “There’s nothing you can do?”

  “We monitor her. Give her fluids and we’ll treat her if complications arise, but it’s up to her.”

  He’d been stupid to think Scalper was Fairbanks’ only surviving victim. His daughter was too. Dougherty was killed because he was a loose end that posed a threat. Scalper was damaged beyond reasonable repair. Daniel doubted he was in any danger, but what about his daughter? Was she a loose end that needed tying up?