by Shaun Baines
It was an envelope, stained with crimson blood, but with writing clearly legible on the front. ‘To Scalper’.
He opened it and saw an address and phone number for a woman called Jackie. It was Scalper’s friend. The one Mosely had promised to find. He had done right by Scalper after all.
Daniel closed the lid. Balancing his lighter on the surface, he rethought his plan. People were complicated, he thought. Who would have thought a rat, a skunk and a bastard like Mosely would be capable of such an act of kindness? Perhaps he really did feel guilty. But maybe it wasn’t kindness. Maybe it was one last act of redemption before he slipped away and the full extent of his treachery was revealed. Daniel would never know, but if Mosely had Jackie’s contact details, she must have survived. Scalper would be pleased.
He tapped the lighter against the shell of the suitcase and it occurred to him how similar it was to a closed casket. Striking the lighter, an orange flame quivered and danced, decorating the room with a warm glow, as if he had lit a candle in church. What had started as an act of petty revenge would be a funeral pyre. No-one deserved to be remembered as a pile of body parts. It was an attempt at kindness, though he wasn’t about to hang around and say a few words.
Rushing downstairs, he was met by a cloud of rising gas. He coughed and pulled his coat over his nose and mouth, stumbling over the last few steps. His eyes stung and he grew nauseous. The front door was straight ahead when Daniel staggered to a halt. If Reaver had lied about Mosely, had he lied about the three men in South Shields? Had all this been for nothing? How could he get him to tell the truth?
Opening the door and gulping down fresh air, Daniel decided to go to Five Oaks and a little room his father had in the wine cellar.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Evening drew in, stealing the sunlight from her kitchen. Liz flicked the switch on the wall and closed her eyes against the sudden fluorescence, turning it off again. Opening and closing cupboard doors, she found her last packet of painkillers. She dropped two tablets into her hand and swallowed them with the dregs of this morning’s wine. The hangover couldn’t slow her down. She was only halfway through.
Liz watched the countdown on her oven, feeling its heat warm her bare legs. She’d showered, re-applied her make-up and got dressed. Her reflection in the polished work surfaces told her she’d chosen her attire well. Black pants and bra with open toe high heels. She opened another bottle of wine while she waited for breakfast to cook.
Her iPhone rang as the cork popped.
“Hi Liz. It’s me.” Monica’s voice sounded shaky, as if she had just stopped crying or was just about to start. Liz put the phone on speaker and turned her back to fetch a clean glass.
“I didn’t know who else to call. I can’t get through to anyone,” she continued.
The queasiness of the first sip of wine too soon after a big session was something she was getting used to. She let her stomach settle and had a second sip, her eyes glancing at the red light on her phone.
“Liz? Are you there? I can hear you moving around.”
Where the fuck was that cafetiere? Once again Liz searched through her cupboards. It had been a moving in present from Scott. She dropped to her knees, reaching to the back of a cupboard and there it was, sitting on top of the salad spinner Daniel had bought her. Placing it on the kitchen counter, she removed it from the unopened box.
“Please talk to me. I’m sorry,” she heard Monica say.
Liz looked at the phone and smiled, pushing the box to one side. Slowly placing her hands either side, she leaned into it and counted to three. “Oh, babe, I forgot you were there. I’m not ignoring you. I’m just really, really busy. How are you, honey? Is everything okay?”
Monica was definitely crying now. Her breaths came as wet gasps. Checking the countdown on her oven, there were two minutes before her croissants were baked to perfection.
“I’m sorry about our argument. I said some terrible things. I shouldn’t have. I’m sorry,” Monica said.
She imagined Monica wiping her snotty nose with a tissue. Liz hoped she’d wipe it red raw. “Oh, babe. I haven’t given it a second thought. We’re still best friends, aren’t we? Why don’t you tell me what’s wrong? I really am in a hurry.”
While Monica gathered herself, Liz switched on the kettle and laid out cups and saucers.
“I haven’t seen anyone for days. Five Oaks is deserted. It’s just me. We used to have all these guards around, but they’ve disappeared. I’ve tried calling Ed and Scott. They’re not picking up. I was wondering if you knew what was going on?”
“Sorry, babe. I don’t know anything about it.”
“Have you heard from Ed?”
Liz spooned some coffee into the cafetiere. “Why would he call me?”
“I don’t know. I’m worried something bad has happened.”
“There were times I wouldn’t see him for weeks. He’ll show up. He always does.” The buzzer sounded on the oven and Liz pulled out all the drawers, looking for a glove. “In the meantime, you have to calm down, okay? It’s not good for the baby. Ed wouldn’t like it. When I had Scott and Daniel, he wouldn’t let me lift a finger.”
“You haven’t told him about me being pregnant, have you? Is that why he’s avoiding me?”
Liz tried not to laugh. If she’d told Ed about the kid, Monica would be getting patched up in hospital by now. “Of course, I haven’t told him. That’s your job. You have to tell him. You’re going to do that, aren’t you, babe?”
There was a pause before Monica answered. “Yes. I promise.”
“Good,” Liz said, sliding the golden brown croissants onto a plate. “I have to go, okay? Speak soon.”
“Liz, is there anything you’re not telling me?”
Pressing call end, Liz arranged the croissants and the cafetiere filled with rich coffee onto a silver breakfast tray. She remembered her purse sitting on the table in the sitting room and had an idea. She emptied its contents on the kitchen counter. There was one condom left and she placed it on the tray next to the cups and saucers.
She tousled her blonde hair and went to the bedroom where she was hit with the smell of last night’s alcohol and the grubby sex that followed. The room was decorated in pastels from the light green walls to the light blue carpet. The window faced out over the cityscape of Gateshead and in the morning, she would often lie and watch the morning shift arrive at Tesco.
Liz leaned seductively against the door frame. “Ed? Are you awake?”
A muffled snore came from her queen sized bed. Stirring at the sound of her voice, he stuck his arse out from under the duvet and fell back asleep.
His breakfast cooled on the tray. Steam rose from the coffee, forming a question mark. Pulling back the covers and revealing his naked form, Liz perched on the side of the bed, the tray resting on her knees. “What the fuck is that?”
She shot to her feet, examining the mattress. “For God’s sake,” she said.
Pushing the tray onto her bedside table, the picture of her family in Marbella fell to the floor. She left it there as she touched the dampness on her legs. “Wake up, Ed.”
When she got no response, she shook him by the shoulder. “Ed, wake up. You pissed the fucking bed.”
He rolled onto this back and opened his eyes. “What is it?”
“You’ve pissed in my bed. Get up. Get in the shower.”
She helped him onto unsteady feet. He swayed, holding his head. “Give me a minute, will you?” He stared around the room until his gaze found her semi-naked form stripping the sheets. She guessed where his thoughts were heading.
“Will you please get a shower, Ed? You stink and you’re covered in piss.”
He held up hands in surrender and padded out of the door in search of the bathroom. Liz threw the pillows to the other side of the room and dragged the duvet to the floor. The under sheets were bunched into a ball and hurled into a corner. At the end of it all, Liz was left with a bed frame and a stained mattre
ss.
Just as she had with the bed, she stripped off her underwear and high heels and put on her pink cashmere pyjamas, the ones she wore most nights. She would need another shower, but for now, they were warm and comforting. The condom was tucked away in a drawer.
Leaving the room, she stopped when she found Ed’s phone lying on the floor. It didn’t take much to guess his pin number. She entered one, two, three and four and the phone came to life. Not for the first time, she wondered how he’d survived this long. Scrolling through the history, she saw several missed calls, mostly from Monica, but some from Noodles and one from Daniel, who had yet to contact her since his return. It was tempting to listen to the voicemail messages, but Ed would see she’d been in his phone. She took it with her to the sitting room.
Today wasn’t about gaining information. It was about implanting it.
Liz was curled up in a chair when Ed walked in, cradling her third glass of wine and staring out over Newcastle. Fog rolled in over the river, swallowing it, hiding it from her view.
She turned to him, catching the disappointment in his face when he saw she was dressed. He was in the clothes he wore when he banged on her apartment door early this morning. Despite it all, she had to admit he looked good. “There’s more wine in the fridge if you want any.”
He pulled a disgusted face. “I’ve already drank too much.”
“Don’t I know it,” she said looking away. “You’ll be paying for a new mattress.”
“Listen, I should be getting back.”
“To Monica?”
“Yes to Monica and to the business falling down around my head. It used to be important to you too.”
“Your empire was never important to me. We were important to me. My family was important.”
“That’s why I have to get back.” Ed sat next to her, his elbows on his knees as he stared at the floor. “I told you what Noodles said. He has insiders on the force. Scott’s been nicked for murder. He’s going to jail. We were set up by Fairbanks.”
Liz waved him away with one hand. “He’s not going to jail. We have people to take care of that sort of stuff. He’ll be fine.”
“I haven’t told you everything.”
“Well, I have something to tell you.” She took a long drink of her wine. Ed waited, his eyes expectant. Liz leaned forward. Were those tears she could see? She put her glass to one side and hid a shudder of disgust. It would take more than a shower to feel clean after this day. “What if I told you I was going to adopt a child? I miss having children around. I miss being a mother.”
“What about Scott and Daniel?”
“What about them? They’re grown men and they’ve grown up to be very different from what I wanted them to be.”
“Not this again.” Ed got up and paced the room. “They live in a violent world. I had to train them to be hard.”
“They’re more than hard and you know it.” Liz felt old anxieties rising in her throat like bile. She swallowed them down and met Ed’s imploring gaze. “You owe me.”
He glanced over his shoulder at the bedroom door. “For last night? Is that what it was about?”
“You’re weak, Ed. You’re forgetting who you are. The man I knew would never have cheated on his wife. This Fairbanks thing has got you messed up, but what’s worse is you’re forgetting who I am and I’m not asking for your permission.”
Ed’s iPhone rang from the folds of Liz’s pyjamas. She handed it over. His eyes narrowed in suspicion before he answered.
“I’m in the middle of something. What is it?” he asked.
“Ah, Mr Dayton, I have you at last.”
He placed his hand over the phone. “It’s Noodles.”
“Is it about Scott? I want to listen.”
Ed put the phone on speaker. “Talk,” he said, sitting next to Liz.
“As you know, your son and his men were arrested last night at the scene of the murder of one Marcus Dougherty. The good news is I have managed to arrange for the release of his men.”
“But not Scott?”
“Your protectors in the Northumbrian Police force won’t allow you to act without impunity anymore. They are withdrawing their help for non-payment of services. You’re fortunate I got the result I did.”
Liz pressed her fingers against her lips. “They can’t lock up my boy.”
“Liz? Is that you?” Noodles asked with a titter. “At least I know exactly what you were in the middle of, Mr Dayton. Your ex-wife’s shapely thighs.”
“Who the fuck do you think you’re talking to?” Ed’s face was crimson. If he could have reached down the phone and throttled him, Liz suspected they’d be talking to a dead lawyer right now. She relaxed, smiling over the rim of her wine glass. That was the man she needed.
“Mr Dayton, let me tell you what I know. Scott was involved in a one-sided gunfight that ended in the death of Mr Dougherty. Early ballistic reports show the only guns to be fired were those belonging to Scott and his men. However, a digital recording of semi-automatic gunfire was found at the scene. It will be my contention that Scott was responding to the belief he was under attack. They attempted to escape through an exit whereupon the unfortunate victim Mr Dougherty was presented to them as a secondary threat. They opened fire and killed him in self-defence.”
Ed glanced at Liz. “So we’re in the clear?”
“You are far from being in the clear, Mr Dayton. I have to explain why Scott entered the warehouse in the first place. An unlocked door is not an invitation in the eyes of the law. I have to explain why they were carrying unlicensed firearms and using CR gas smoke bombs. And even if I magically manage to explain all of this away, there are still two bodies to account for.”
“Two bodies?”
“A man called Bobcat was also found dead at the scene. I will try to attribute this death to the mysterious second party, which we both know is Fairbanks, but which the rest of the world, including the police, have no proof even exists. What will be shown however are the bullets from Scott’s gun and those of his men were the direct cause of Mr Dougherty’s death.”
“Won’t Fairbanks’ fingerprints be all over the warehouse?”
“What if they were?” asked Noodles. “DC Spencer confirmed he has no prior record. There’d be no match in the database. Mr Fairbanks has orchestrated a crime so convoluted, the investigating team won’t believe it. Much easier for them to take the easy answer, especially when that answer is the legendary Scott Dayton.”
“What are you going to do, Ed?” Her ex looked at her blank-faced. Her hand itched to slap him. “You can’t let them take my boy away.”
“It’s a very complicated case, which will stretch on for months,” Noodles said. “Only an extremely gifted barrister could argue Scott’s defence.”
Ed looked down at the phone, his jaw set firm. “What are you saying?”
Noodles gave a sharp intake of breath. “I will be increasing my fees from here on in.”
“You back stabbing son of a bitch. I’ll have you killed.”
“I doubt it,” he said, snickering again. “Your son would be jailed for certain without my help and please remember, I know where the bodies are buried. Literally.”
“You can’t do this.”
“I think it only fair. Over the years, I’ve grown quite tired of your petulance and insults. Everyone can see you’re not the leader you were. I warned you again and again. You simply don’t have the power you once had.”
Ed placed his phone on mute. “What should I do?” he whispered.
Liz saw him crumbling before her. He was white. His eyes were tearing up again. What had happened to him? She needed him to be strong and take care of this Fairbanks nonsense, but he was failing at every pass. Where was the man she once admired?
Placing a tender hand on his, she looked into his watery eyes. “Give him his money. I’ve lost Daniel. I couldn’t bear to lose Scott as well.”
“Then what?”
“Forget about what I s
aid earlier. I want you to go home and hug your wife. Talk to her. Ask her how she is. She’ll remind you of the strength family brings.”
Ed nodded and unmuted the phone. They heard Noodles humming to himself. “Okay, scumbag. Take your extra pound of flesh, but you’re over, you hear? Over.”
She sensed Noodles smiling. “As are you, Mr Dayton. As are you.”
Noodles ended the call before Ed had the chance to hurl more insults. He thrust the phone into his pocket and brooded. Liz knew better than to interject and gave him time to fume. He stood, walked to the front door, only to walk back into the room, his palms turned upward.
“Go home, Ed,” she said. “There’s nothing more for you to do here.”
She didn’t wait for him to answer and gave him the cold shoulder. The front door opened and slammed shut. A pressure built behind her eyes and she squeezed them shut. The countdown on her state of the art oven flashed in her mind. Time was running out on her dreams of a new family. Ordinarily, she didn’t concern herself with Ed and his businesses as long as her money arrived every month, but Fairbanks was a bigger problem than she’d first surmised. They’d weather the storm. They always did, but in the meantime, she could use the chaos to feather her own nest.
Ed was under her spell again. Monica was as needy as ever. She’d put them together to watch them fall apart and Liz would be there to pick up the pieces.
It was what a good mother did.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Monica pursed her lips, applying coral lipstick. Her foundation was pale and her eyeliner dark. Her eyes and lips would be the first things people saw. She adjusted her black halter neck top and admired her cleavage. Those would be the second things. With a pair of skinny fit jeans and a spritz of Victoria Beckham’s latest perfume, Monica was finally ready.
Downing a shot of Grey Goose vodka, she speed dialled on her phone. “Hey, babe. Just putting the finishing touches to my outfit. Have you called the taxi yet?”