by Shaun Baines
"So you believe." The blood burned in the Sheriff's cheeks. It filled her face and sat dull in her stomach. "I'm going to kill you either way."
The taser was lost, but underneath the Sheriff's jacket was a knife of her own.
"It doesn't have to go this way," Viper said, shifting his stance. "Tell me you'll stop and we'll figure something out. If you don't, I'll tell the Daytons about your dirty secret."
The Sheriff grinned, her uneven teeth glinted in the harsh light. "Do you think I'd kidnap my own son?"
Viper looked like a snake confronted with a meal too big to swallow. Had he ever taken a life, the Sheriff wondered? Because she had. She had taken it and destroyed it and left it in the arms of its murderous parents.
Her hand slid toward the concealed knife.
The door to the Cool Out Room burst open. The teenager came to a hurried stop, his eyes widening at the knife in Viper's hand.
"I forgot my board," he said with a squeak.
"Get out," Viper shouted at him.
The Sheriff saw her chance and rushed forward.
Viper's mouth twisted in shock as he attempted to lift his knife in time.
It was too late. He wasn't ready.
But the boy was. He charged at the Sheriff, slamming his shoulder into her left side.
Surprised, she stumbled, her foot finding his skateboard. It slipped from under her and her legs flew skyward. She was weightless and the naked bulbs above her danced like burning stars.
Gravity slammed the Sheriff to the floor. Her head connected with a wet crack. There were more stars, these ones dancing in the darkness of her eyes.
She tried to move, but her body was unresponsive, as if it had become one with the concrete she'd landed on. She opened her mouth to speak, unsure if it was following her commands. No words came out and no air passed over her lips.
Viper's face swam into view, shifting from left to right. He placed his hand to the back of her head and when he withdrew it, his fingertips were red with blood.
Was he tutting? It was hard to tell. The Sheriff tried to laugh, but there was nothing funny about dying. Instead, she lay quietly, watching the bulbs shrink to pinpricks of light. Coming here had been a mistake, she thought.
Viper gently closed her eyelids and she felt the damp smears of blood on her skin.
All mistakes were silly, she thought. From getting involved with the Daytons to slipping on a skateboard and dying alone. It was what she'd left behind that mattered. Her legacy would endure, but as the room finally dimmed, the Sheriff struggled to remember what that might be.
***
The boy gulped for air, clutching at his chest.
Viper rushed to his aid. "Jim? Jim? Try to breathe, okay?"
The boy was damp to the touch, his body shivering. Despite his size, he'd been reduced to a sobbing child. "I didn't mean to do it."
"It was an accident," Viper said. "You did it for me. You saved me."
"I was just trying to help."
Placing an arm around Jim's shoulder, Viper led him to the exit. "If anyone asks, you say I did it. I killed her."
"But the police? You'll go to jail."
Viper couldn't claim to have friends or people who might hide him away, but he had his motorbike. While there was still tarmac and petrol in his tank, there was a chance of maintaining his freedom.
They paused by the door.
"How many times have I told you all to stay away? That kids are going missing?"
Jim attempted to look over his shoulder at the Sheriff's body, but Viper made him face forward.
"Was she behind the kidnappings?" Jim asked.
Viper had spent months trying to get close to the Sheriff, but she was a fortress of a woman. His questions were met with silence or mockery. He'd asked around, gleaned information here and there, but never anything solid. Viper had his gut instinct. Going to the Nottinghams with flimsy suspicions would see those guts spilled on the street.
"I don't know, but you saw how dangerous she was, didn't you?" Viper asked.
Jim nodded, sucking on his lower lips.
"What you did was very brave and now I need you to do something else," Viper said, pointing at the exit. "I need you to tell those kids to go home. Clearly, no-one listens to me. Tell them how dangerous it is. They have to stay away until I'm sure who is behind this."
"I'll try," Jim said.
Viper shoved him out of the room, watching him whisper into the ears of his friends.
"Try very hard," Viper said to himself.
He used another door to escape into the car park. His bike and helmet were where he had left them, but he had other business to attend to first.
If the Sheriff wasn't the leader of the Motorheads, then he wanted to know who was and for that, he would need the Daytons.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
The digital seconds on Daniel's phone ticked down. Half an hour remained before he was due to pick Eisha up from school. Another glance out of the cupboard window told him the Motorheads had still not arrived.
His heart sickened at the thought of Eisha leaving school without a friendly face to greet her. Daniel was running out of options. Against his better judgement, he made a call he might come to regret.
"Why aren't they here?" Daniel asked, jamming his phone into his pocket.
"I'm allowed to speak now?" Kockley asked, shifting on the floor. "You go to them. They don't come to you. They're skittish."
Daniel paced around the cupboard, leaving prints in the dust. The Motorheads had been successful because they ran a tight operation so what was the hold-up? Who had got in their way?
As he prepared to make another turn, his ears pricked at the sound of an engine.
"Is that them?" he asked.
Kockley scuffled to the window, his nose pressed to the glass. "That's the van they use."
Daniel motioned to the door. "Go outside and say hello."
"What?" the farmer said, waving his hands. "I can't go out there."
"They've come to see you."
Kockley pinched his rubbery jowls. "They've come for the money, you mean and I don't have it."
Daniel was reluctant to touch the pig stained man more than he had to, but he grabbed Kockley by the neck and thrust him out of the cupboard.
"Act natural," Daniel said, hiding behind the door.
Kockley was about to force his way back in, but a look from Daniel was enough to dissuade him.
"You're safer out there with them," Daniel said, "than you are in here with me. Don't worry. I'll be watching."
Kockley hesitated, clutching at his pendant. He stood in a foyer surrounded by glass walls and glass doors. He was in full view of everyone, including the Motorheads. Like tethering bait on the end of a fishing line, Daniel was hoping for a bite.
He crept behind the farmer, keeping low when his phone buzzed with a text from Bronson.
"What's going on?" it read.
Daniel typed quickly, "Get ready."
The van circled the car park, finally stopping at the abandoned mattress. The engine was cut, but Choo remained behind the wheel.
With a backwards glance at Daniel, Kockley opened the glass door. Fresh air rushed inside turning sour with the stink of his clothes.
"Get outside," Daniel said.
Kockley's jowls shook. He lowered to a crouch and quickly tied his shoes laces.
"You'll protect me, right?" he whispered through pursed lips.
Not a chance, thought Daniel.
"Of course, I will. Now get moving."
Kockley stepped into the car park, allowing the glass door to swing shut behind him. He paused to tie his other shoe.
There was no sign of Choo and Daniel ground his teeth.
As Daniel prepared to spring forward, his attention was caught by a movement to his right. Hannah had left her post and was barrelling down the hillside toward the van. Her face was pinched, her thin arms pumping by her sides.
The entrance to the st
ripy tent fluttered open and Bronson appeared with Simon in tow.
Daniel sprinted to the door, ramming his shoulder into it. It stuck and he exploded through the glass, tumbling to the tarmac. Cascades of glass rained on top of him, nicking his face and cutting his hands. Shaking shards from his hair, Daniel looked to the ground and saw a pig pendant wedged under the frame.
Searching for Kockley, Daniel saw him bolting through the car park, using the distraction to escape.
Growling, Daniel got to his feet and raced to the van, but Hannah had got there first. She wrenched open the driver's door and froze.
Even at this distance, Daniel saw her face had gone white.
Something was wrong.
Striding through the car park, he reached the passenger side and threw the door open. His long arm shot forward and he dragged the occupant to the ground.
The driver's leather jacket was peppered with grit.
"Viper?" Daniel asked.
"You better come look at this," Bronson shouted from the rear of the van.
With a second glance at the biker, Daniel left him where he'd put him, too stunned to make sense of it. He joined Bronson who was opening the doors.
"Guess Viper is a delivery boy, after all," Bronson said.
The inside of the van was lined with plywood and stained with dried blood. A wooden bench had been screwed to the floor and two empty Styrofoam boxes lay on their side. In amongst the debris was Choo, bound and gagged.
"You knew where he was all along," Daniel said to Viper. "That's what you were hiding back at the pub."
Viper shook his head. "Not exactly, but I had his phone number and I arranged a meeting of my own. I wanted to speak to him before you tore him up."
"And what did he say?"
"Nothing," Viper said, using a wing mirror to pull himself up. "Just kept taking about his mother."
"Sometimes the old ways are the best ways," Bronson said, taking hold of Choo. "Come on, fella. There's a gurney at home with your name on it."
Daniel left Bronson and Simon to manhandle Choo into a waiting vehicle. The Asian was destined for the Room where he would spend many unpleasant hours answering questions. The thought didn't sit well with Daniel, especially with his daughter in the house, but it was a necessary evil. Like Daniel himself.
Wandering around the van, he found Hannah staring into the driver's seat.
"Why did you run like that?" he asked. "You could have blown the whole thing."
"I saw him through the windscreen," Hannah said.
"Saw who? Viper?"
Hannah retrieved a scruffy photo from her pocket. It was criss-crossed with lines where it had been folded and unfolded countless times. Daniel couldn't remember the last time he'd seen an image that wasn't on a screen. The picture was muted, the colours drained, but Daniel recognised the man immediately.
"I saw my Dad," Hannah said.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Princess was curled up on the corner of Eisha's bed, keeping a lazy eye on Daniel.
"What's this one called?" he asked, playing with one of Eisha's dolls.
Eisha huffed and slapped his doll in the face.
"I told you already," she said. "She's called Robot."
Daniel studied the plastic figure. Unlike the others, it still had its wiry, blonde hair and elfish looks. He marvelled at the narrow waist and silicone breasts. It was dressed as a French maid and Daniel didn't like the way it made him feel.
"Okay. What about yours?" he asked.
Night had fallen and Eisha held her doll to the lamplight of her bedroom. "She doesn't have a name."
Not only did the doll have no name, but it also had no hair and the head had been dipped in black paint. Eisha had used plasticine to secure a pointed twig in its hand. When Daniel wasn't paying attention, Eisha's gimp doll used the stick to beat the French maid across the head.
"I'm sorry I wasn't there to pick you up from school today," Daniel said.
Eisha shrugged and the two dolls battled on top of her unicorn duvet while they listened to the footsteps echoing around Five Oaks.
"Lots of people here tonight," Eisha said.
More than there'd been for a while, Daniel thought. He'd forgotten how nervous it made him feel to hear people in his home without being able to watch them. As a child, his father's cohorts would fill Five Oaks and Daniel would track them from room to room. They'd laugh at him, ruffling his hair and slipping him the odd ten pound note.
"I thought you liked company," Daniel said.
Eisha laid her doll next to his and snuggled down under her duvet.
"Only so they can teach me," she said, her chestnut hair forming a dirty halo around her head.
"Teach you what?" Daniel asked, but when his daughter didn't answer, he concentrated on picking lint from a unicorn's navel. "When I was young, this place was never empty, but the people who visited were bad. They were strangers."
"Didn't you like that, Daddy?"
Daniel shifted causing Princess to growl. "I never felt safe unless I looked them in the eye. That was the only way I could trust someone, but everyone in our house is here to protect you."
Eisha closed her eyes with a yawn. "Sure."
It wasn't long before her breathing slowed to a steady rhythm and Daniel knew she was asleep. He eased himself off the bed, nodding to Princess as he went. The dog gave him a glare and watched until he reached the door.
"I don't need to see someone," Eisha said with her eyes closed, "to know they are bad."
His hand froze over the handle. Daniel looked back to the bed to find his daughter hiding amongst her pillows.
"Goodnight, pet," Daniel said, leaving the room.
Sophia waited on the other side.
"How is she?" she asked.
Daniel nudged the door, confirming it was shut. "Unexpected," he said.
"I'll be going then." Sophia turned to walk away and Daniel caught a diluted hint of the expensive perfume she'd worn at their first meeting.
"Stop," he said.
Sophia halted and rubbed the bags under her eyes with a fingertip.
"Thank you for picking my daughter up from school," Daniel said.
"It's okay."
Daniel straightened the collar around his throat, feeling it pinch his skin. "No, I mean it," he said. "I didn't have anyone else to call."
"Why do you think that is?" Sophia asked, failing to meet his gaze. "I know you don't like me, but out of all the people you pay to be in your company, I was the only person who answered your call."
He heard voices from every corner of his home, but there was no-one in sight. Without looking, he knew exactly where they were. They appeared as dots on a blueprint in his mind, featureless entities moving independently of him.
"You surround yourself with bad people," Sophia said, "and you see me as the enemy."
"You tried to seduce me," Daniel said. "What kind of a woman does that to get what she wants?"
"I was desperate," Sophia spat back.
"I know."
The words rang like a church bell in his head. It was something he'd always known and yet had feared to admit, but when he looked at Sophia, another bell chimed; an alarm bell deep inside him. He didn't understand her. Why devote her life to strangers? To strangers like Bronson? What was she after?
Sophia placed a hand on his arm. "I only want to help."
They both looked over the bannister to the lower floor to see Bronson shuffling through the great hall. He stopped and looked at them, giving Sophia a small nod.
"Help yourself to what?" Daniel asked.
A tapping noise came from Eisha's bedroom. Out of bed again, she was on her computer, working in a way no young girl should at that hour.
Instead of being annoyed, Daniel hid his smile.
"Is Eisha still awake?" Sophia asked, checking her plastic watch.
"Leave her be," Daniel said. "She's mine. Why don't you go with Bronson? He'll give you a lift home."
Sophia's brow crinkled, the lines in her face adding to her beauty. "You warned me to stay away from him."
"He's not mine to protect, I guess," Daniel said. "You don't have to flirt or use him. Unlike me, Bronson does like you so either accept the lift or take a taxi. It's up to you."
"Is this some sort of payment for picking up your daughter?" Sophia glanced downstairs, watching Bronson kicking the lower step, like a prom king nervously awaiting his date.
"He seems more of a human than you are," she said.
Daniel stopped himself from agreeing. "It might seem like this is a simple decision, but it's not. Bronson or a taxi. Choose wisely."
"You're scared of me, aren't you?" Sophia asked.
Without waiting for an answer, she slipped down the stairs and whispered in Bronson's ear. Judging by the grin spreading across his face, Daniel guessed which choice Sophia had made.
Bronson opened the front door and they stepped into the night. Turning, Bronson gave Daniel two thumbs-up and followed her out.
"Pillock," Daniel said to the echoing sound of the door slamming shut.
Daniel's shadow fell over the hallway like a shroud. He could have done with his friend's help, but he couldn't protect Bronson from everything. It would only make him more suspicious.
Daniel rolled his shoulders and made his way to the Room.
Time to get his hands dirty, he thought.
Chapter Forty
Entering the billiard room, Daniel was stopped, not by its occupants, but by the atmosphere they'd created. It had once been a safe haven, somewhere for his father and his friends to relax as they carved up Newcastle like a Sunday roast. Occasionally, guests would slip through a hidden door in the wood panelling to select another bottle of wine from the cellar. Only a few knew of the torturous Room concealed behind the racks.
Daniel and his daughter were two of them.
Hannah was poised at one side of the billiard table. Viper was at the other. They each held a cue, but there were no balls on the baize. A shaft of light lanced through the window, carrying dust motes, keeping Hannah and Viper apart like a physical barrier.
"Thanks for giving us this time to talk," Viper said to Daniel.