by Shaun Baines
Daniel nodded, but it clearly hadn't been well spent. He had plenty of questions for Viper, but Daniel's priority was to speak to Choo, who was strapped to the gurney in the Room.
"I have work to do," he said and walked to the secret panel.
"Can I come with you?" Hannah asked. "It stinks in here."
"You're too young," Daniel said, but even as he said the words, he knew he was wrong. Hannah had seen more in her tender years than most people would witness in a lifetime.
"You should listen to Daniel," Viper said, setting his cue down on the table.
Hannah gripped hers more tightly.
"What are you doing here?" Daniel asked him.
Viper rubbed his arms where he'd been manhandled into Daniel's van. "I didn't have much choice."
"I meant, what were you doing at the warehouse?"
"When Choo didn't talk, I knew I had to bring him to you."
It gave Daniel no pleasure to catch someone in a lie, especially one as blatant as Viper's. They weren't friends and Daniel wasn't sure they were on the same side yet. He folded his arms and waited.
Viper ran his finger over the billiard table, tracing a line in the baize. "I started hearing rumours a while back. About kids going missing and not just any kids. I'm talking about street kids, those that didn't have the right start in life."
"Like your daughter?" Daniel asked.
"I got a call from Hannah's mam," Viper continued. "She told me Hannah had been taken. That she'd received a ransom note."
Hannah struck the cue against the table. "That's another lie," she said. "He left when I was little and never looked back."
"I'm not proud of it," Viper said. "I tried to stay in contact. I sent birthday cards every year."
Hannah laughed, but it had a hollow tone. "It's like asking me to keep believing in Santa Claus. I know you didn't send those cards. I worked it out. Mam sent them to me, pretending to be you. I recognised her handwriting on another letter."
Daniel expected Viper to offer another implausible lie. He was surprised to see him nodding along.
"I can't read or write," Viper said. "I never went to school. I had my own little gang. We were more interested in causing trouble than learning anything."
The frown on Hannah's face deepened. "That's not true."
"It is," Daniel said. "Back at the bar, he couldn't tell a box of beer from a box of meat."
Viper cleared his throat and selected a spot above Hannah's head to continue speaking. "I couldn't get a job. I couldn't provide for you so I thought you'd be better off without me."
Daniel wondered if Hannah attended school, but he doubted it. She had her own little gang, too. History had repeated itself, no matter what Viper's intentions had been.
"Your mam didn't want me to leave, but she understood. We came to an arrangement. I'd send what money I had and each year, I'd buy you a birthday card that your mam wrote for me."
"Until my eleventh birthday," Hannah said.
"I got a call saying you didn't want any more cards," Viper said. "Now I know why."
Hannah laid down her cue and clasped her hands in front of her. Her eyes were misted as she stared at her father.
"I'd heard you were working with the Daytons," Viper continued, "so I knew you'd escaped, but I still had to get to you."
Daniel unfolded his arms. "So you brought a peace-offering – Choo - all wrapped up and tied in a bow."
Viper stared at the floor. "What father doesn't want to save his daughter?"
"I didn't need you. I rescued myself," Hannah said.
The cue was suddenly back in her hand and she hurled it like a spear. It zipped through the air, swirling the dust motes in its wake.
Viper ducked and it sailed over his head. The cue ricocheted off a wall, smashing through a window with a crash of glass.
Hannah raced from the room, slamming the door behind her.
Daniel took a deep breath through his nose. "Teenagers, eh? I'd give her some time to cool down."
"She's right, though," Viper said. "She doesn't need me."
"You've got bigger problems, mate," Daniel said, standing straight. "Meaning me."
Viper's shoulders fell. "I joined the Nottinghams to get closer to the Sheriff. There were rumours about her too."
"Is she involved in this?" Daniel asked.
"I don't think so."
"Where is she?"
Viper shrugged. "The last time I saw her she was at the skate park."
Daniel watched every flinch in his face and was satisfied Viper was telling the truth. It didn't explain why the Sheriff had let them down, but he'd have plenty of opportunities to interrogate her later.
"I swear I didn't know Choo was involved," Viper said, raising his hands in surrender, "but it makes sense."
Daniel looked to the wooden panel leading to the horrors beyond. "I don't want to do it here. The Room was fine when there weren't so many people, so many children in the house."
"I'm hardly father of the year material," Viper said, "so I'll follow your lead."
"Maybe ending this is the best we can do," Daniel said. "We finally have the ringleader where we want him."
The floorboards creaked under Viper's feet.
"I don't think you do," he said.
Chapter Forty-One
There was some sort of lockdown. Bolts clanged shut, ringing in Karin's ears. It matched the alarm she'd read in the guards' faces. Crash and Karin had been joined by two new teenagers in the office. Their eyes had widened at the sight of the bloody chair, scaring and silencing them in equal measure.
Crash wandered about, using his one arm to pat shoulders or to shake hands.
In a short time, Karin was a senior member of the group. She felt the need to follow Crash's example and comfort the newcomers. Instead, she observed a woman in the corner. Karin may have been a senior, but she wasn't the oldest person present. The woman was in her late forties with chiselled good looks and figure hugging clothes.
As Karin approached, the twinkle of the woman's earrings caught her eye.
"I like your jewellery," Karin said. "I used to wear hoops, but they were taken from me."
The woman turned her back, adjusting something in her sock.
Karin swallowed. "If that's contraband, they'll find it. What's your name?"
"It's 'mind your own business' and if you don't understand Latin, it means 'piss off.'"
"You'll not get far with that attitude."
"What do you know? You're just a kid."
Spinning on her heels, Karin lifted her pyjama top, exposing the gnarled rope burns on her back. She heard a gasp and gave the woman a knowing look.
"We should work together," Karin said. "Unless you want this to happen to you."
"My name is Liz Dayton," the woman said, holding out her hand.
Karin hesitated to take it. She'd heard of the Daytons. It was difficult to grow up in Newcastle without knowing the stories. The family were like a myth haunting every street corner. She'd heard one story about a Dayton called Daniel who'd argued with a local drug dealer. The dispute had been resolved with both parties reaching a compromise. A month later the drug dealer's house had been burned down with the drug dealer still in it. All fingers had pointed to Daniel.
"What are we all doing here?" Liz asked.
"I'm not sure. I think there's a problem. Mostly we work. Packing things to be shipped out to places we'll never see again."
Liz examined her nails.
Karin noticed they were manicured into varnished talons. "How do you get them like that?"
"I go to a salon." Liz grabbed Karin's hand, turning it over with a critical eye. Karin blushed, acutely aware of her stubby fingers, the scars on her knuckles and her dirty fingernails.
"You should be proud," Liz said. "These are a working woman's hands and if you want, I can take you to my salon when we're done here, but you have to get me out."
Crash finished with the two teenagers. Whatever he'd do
ne, it had worked. A calm hush had descended.
He retreated to the door, resting his head against it while he watched Karin and Liz.
"I've tried getting out," Karin whispered. "I've tried fighting back. It doesn't work."
Liz tucked a curl of hair around Karin's ear and smiled. "Of course, it doesn't work. I have two sons like those men outside. They match violence with violence. They pour petrol onto the fire and wonder why they're constantly getting burned. Judging by the scars on your knuckles, I'd say you were the same." Liz tapped the side of her head. "There's more than one way to burn down a house."
There was a stirring at the door. Crash stiffened and pressed his ear to it. He appeared to be nodding.
"Something is happening," Karin said.
"Is this our chance?" Liz asked.
A knot grew tight in Karin's stomach. She wanted to impress her new friend. No, she wanted to be liked, but on the other side of the door was an unknown danger. There could be more guards. They could be carrying worse weapons than lengths of rope. Looking over the cowering teenagers, Karin knew they'd be no use in a fight, but what if Liz was right? What if the time for fighting was over?
"If this is our chance, what's your plan?" Karin asked.
Liz stared around the room. "I'll tell them who I am. Tell them I can help."
The knot flipped in Karin's stomach. "Help them?"
Liz shook her head, a mean look in her eyes. "I'll only be telling them that, stupid. I'll be lying, but once I get them on my side, I'll persuade them to let you go."
The voices from the other side of the door grew louder. They were indistinct and muffled, but Crash was close enough to make them out.
"Can you do that?" Karin asked Liz. "What about the others?"
"If they're smart," Liz said, tapping her head again, "they'll have their own plan."
Escape seemed tantalisingly close. Karin sensed the growing disorder of the Motorheads. Locking up the workforce would put them behind schedule and they weren't allowed to fall behind.
"Okay, let's do this," Karin said to the woman with a secret in her sock, "but we'll need help. Let me speak to my friend."
Karin sidled over to Crash. "What's going on?"
His eyes jerked left and right.
"Listen," she said, "this might be our time to get out of here. All of us, but we have to be careful."
Crash placed a hand on her chest, gently forcing her backward.
"That woman over there will betray every one of us if it means she escapes," Karin said. "We can use her as a distraction and fight our way out."
Crash's face was wrought with fear and he jabbed his finger to the door.
"Is this your friend?" Liz was by Karin's side, as quiet and deadly as a whisper.
Crash pushed at Liz with more force than he'd used on Karin.
"What's his problem?" Liz said.
"It's fine," Karin said. "I'm handling it."
Behind them, the teenagers woke to the tension, their chattering teeth growing louder.
Crash pointed at the door again and drew his finger across his neck.
"What do you think is going to happen if we stay here?" Liz asked.
"They let us go," Karin said.
Liz squeezed past Crash and hammered on the door. "When?" she asked over her shoulder. "After they've worked you into the ground? When you're broken and no good to them?"
Her fists echoed around the office, but remained unanswered. It didn't stop her, though. Liz redoubled her efforts, striking harder.
Crash wrapped his arm around Liz's waist, lifting her into the air. Her face went purple and she slapped her hands against his arm. Crash barely flinched. His face was a mask of stone.
"Leave her alone," Karin shouted.
He dropped her on the floor and returned to his original position. His eyes pleaded with Karin, but without words, her suspicions only grew.
"Who's behind that door?" she asked. "Who are you protecting us from?"
"No-one," Liz shouted, scrambling to her feet. "He's a fool."
"Let me at the door," Karin said, but on each attempt to reach it, Crash hurled her to the ground.
"What are you doing?" she asked between gritted teeth.
Liz had said fighting wasn't the way, but Karin's muscles tensed and her throat dried. Sweat prickled her skin. Adrenaline electrified her blood. The irritation had returned and it demanded attention.
"You can't keep us in here," Karin said.
Crash was strong, stronger than she'd thought, but he was on his own.
Drawing herself up, Karin's hands curled into fists.
"Don't do this," she said.
Crash stood firm, but his eyes swivelled around the room. The fight had left him and he turned to the door. He knocked once. Paused. Added two more knocks. Paused. Two more knocks and the door flew open.
The guards rushed inside, gathering around Crash, their whips poised and ready.
"Everybody face down on the ground," the one-armed man shouted.
Chapter Forty-Two
His heart drummed, making his scalp light and heavy at the same time. The bag over his head was a tight weave, damp from perspiration. Choo saw nothing, but ghostly shapes. He stayed quiet, not wanting to draw attention to himself. It was a trick he'd learned as a child.
His mother was all the family he'd ever had, his father having left when Choo was a baby. Everything he knew about the man was gained through his mother's poisoned lips.
Father was a nobody.
Father was a loser and a philanderer.
Choo's mother had decreed her little boy wouldn't grow up to be a man who ran away from his responsibilities.
And Choo believed her because his mother loved him.
The van doors opened and Choo was dragged to his feet. There was rumbling traffic and the scent of diesel.
"I'll get him inside," a voice said. It was almost recognisable. Someone he'd worked with, but its familiarity brought no comfort. Choo had worked with hundreds of people over the years, repeatedly introducing himself until they remembered his name.
Few ever did.
Hands gripped his shoulders. Fingers wormed into his small muscles. He bit down on his tongue, softening his whimpers. A bell rang above his head. The air was filled with sugar. It was cloying. It was too much.
Sugar was banned at home. If his mother rewarded good behaviour, it was with fewer nights sleeping in her bedroom closet or allowing him to wear shoes whenever he had to run to the corner shop.
"You better be right about this," another voice said. This man he did recognise. Once seen, he was difficult to forget. Daniel Dayton had been dogging Choo for days, creeping ever closer. He wasn't surprised when he'd been caught. He'd almost expected it. Daniel's reach seemed to be everywhere.
Choo's instructions had been not to return without the farmer's money, but when the biker called, he thought it would be another meat delivery. It was a little detour and extra money for his boss.
Being a prisoner wasn't a punishment. Not for Choo. He didn't complain, not even when he'd been strapped to a bloody gurney. His mother had taught him to be strong and that begging made things worse. It was only when he'd been released and a bag thrust over his head that he began to worry.
He was being transported somewhere and Choo didn't like to stray too far.
Rope bound him to a chair and he blinked as the bag was whipped from his head.
He recoiled from the handsome face in front of him. Daniel's eyes were unlike any other's he'd encountered. They lasered through him, coming to rest at the back of Choo's skull.
Daniel loomed over him. "This is the end of the line for you, mate."
Choo stared about the room. It was a storage area filled with plastic tubs of boiled sweets. He didn't know their names, but they were crammed together, reminding him of the quarters he'd forced so many teenagers to sleep in.
At Daniel's side was Viper, the man from the Bull and Cart pub; the same man who had kidnapped
him.
"I'll help," Choo said.
A look passed over Daniel's face making Choo's throat go dry.
"I know you will," Daniel said.
Choo attempted to swallow, but the sugar turned to syrup in his mouth.
"We don't think it was you," Daniel said, his eyes scouring Choo's mind. "You apologised to me. You don't have the bones to lead the Motorheads. It's the only reason you're not in the Room. So who was it? Who's behind this?"
"Was it the Sheriff?" Viper asked.
Choo blinked. He didn't understand. He'd been told to kidnap children and he had. He didn't sleep much. He rarely ate, but that was his price, wasn't it? He worked for as long as his body allowed and then he'd go home. To his mother. That's what it was to be a responsible man.
"The Sheriff is a lot of things," Daniel said, "but I read her eyes. She's desperate to find her son. She can't have kidnapped Crash."
Choo's face lit up. "Crash, yes. He looks after me."
"You know him?" Daniel asked.
"I'm bait. For the children," Choo said, puffing out his chest as far as the rope allowed, "but Crash always saves me at the end."
Viper scratched the tattoo on his neck and pointed at Choo. "This guy was recruited."
"By Crash?" Daniel asked. "He leads the Motorheads?"
"I was there when Crash had his accident," Viper said, spitting on the floor, grinding his heel into the saliva. "He got aggressive after his fall, like he had a personality transplant. The Sheriff wouldn't hear of it, but when his mother was drunk or in the toilet, he'd talk about taking the bikers to the next level."
"Next level?" Daniel asked.
"He was tired of ferrying goods for other people. He wanted goods of his own."
Daniel twisted the lid off a tub of Sherbet Lemons and screwed it back on so tight the plastic cracked. "So he decided on kids?"
"They started going missing from the skateboard park in Bede," Viper said. "I found Crash there. I talked to him, tried to figure out what he was doing, but when he disappeared, I thought I'd got it wrong."
"But in reality," Daniel said, "you'd forced him underground."
"After that, he must have cast his net further afield to avoid suspicion. All I could do was persuade the kids to stay away in case he returned."