by Anna Smith
‘Exactly. But we have to wait and see,’ Kerry said. ‘But every hour that ticks by is another hour that Finbar will be getting more and more anxious and bewildered. What if he thinks his family have just abandoned him?’ She felt choked.
‘I know. But kids are amazingly resilient. You have to believe that.’ She studied Kerry’s face for a moment. ‘Kerry. Are you all right in yourself? You look a bit peaky.’
The silence fell between them, the Kerry heard herself speak.
‘I’m pregnant, Maria.’
Maria looked shocked.
‘Jesus! Oh, Kerry! When did you find out? I noticed you weren’t drinking wine, but I thought you were just tired from the trip and all the stress.’
‘This afternoon. When I got back from Spain. Been throwing up for days, yet I didn’t really seriously consider I might be pregnant. Stupid really.’
Maria looked at her. ‘Is it Vinny?’ she ventured. ‘Sorry to ask, but you told me you’d seen him a couple of times.’
Kerry nodded. ‘Yeah,’ she replied. ‘But that’s it, Maria. Only a couple of times. It’s not as if we were in a relationship.’ She rubbed her face with her hands. ‘What a bloody mess.’
‘Does he know? Are you going to tell him?’
‘Jesus no. Well, I don’t know. Not yet anyway. He’s phoned me a couple of times today, probably to ask about Marty and probably to fish if I know anything. But I patched his calls. I can’t face him right now.’
Maria was quiet, then she spoke. ‘You must be just about off your head with the shock and worry in the middle of everything else.’
‘Yes. Couldn’t be a worse time for this to happen. I have no room for a baby in my life right now. Because right now, it’s Marty’s grandson that overshadows everything. That’s really all I can think about.’
‘I understand. I’m sure you’ll do what’s best for you in due course.’
‘I’m keeping the baby,’ Kerry said quickly. ‘I . . . I couldn’t bear the thought of not keeping it. Especially with my miscarriage last year. But that was in totally different circumstances. I’m pregnant now in the middle of the biggest crisis in my life.’
‘You’ll find a way, Kerry. It’s only a baby. You’ll find a way through it. And I’ll be there for you any time of the day or night.’
‘Thanks, Maria.’
Chapter Seven
It was the lying as much as the cold fear that made Marty Kane feel sick inside. Every time he looked at his wife or his son, he felt a sense of betrayal. He had lied to his family in the very depths of their despair. Their little boy had been taken, and Marty was withholding information that they would surely believe could be crucial in finding him and getting him back. He felt helpless and responsible. But deep down he had to believe he was doing the right thing. Not telling police that the kidnappers had made contact with Kerry Casey was the biggest gamble of his life. He was trusting criminals over the police. The depth of that dishonesty was not lost on him and had kept him awake for the last two nights. But his gut feeling was not to come clean to the police yet. He watched his mobile every hour, waiting for another call. Kerry had told him that the weasel Frankie Martin had made a call to her, to deliver a message from the Colombian that they had Fin. Kerry told him the message was that they wanted everything the Caseys had. But she asked Marty to hold fire and keep this to himself. Whoever was holding Fin wanted his life to be something they could bargain over. And Marty was standing by allowing it to happen. He would never forgive himself for what he was doing. But he had to believe it was the right thing.
From the window of his study, Marty saw the unmarked police car pull into his driveway, and he watched as two officers got out. One of them he recognised as Vinny Burns, the DI that Kerry had made the deal with during the battle with Joe ‘Knuckles’ Boyle. He thought Kerry had taken a bit of a flier in that one – bringing in police so that Boyle would be caught red-handed with a container load of smuggled cocaine. But it had worked. He had never spoken to Burns, but through the grapevine he’d learned that Kerry had some kind of romance or fling going on with him – a rekindling from when they were teenagers. If Kerry had asked him his opinion of that at the time, he would have told her that he thought it was not prudent for someone in her position to be involved with a detective in the middle of an operation. But she hadn’t asked him, so he respected that. Marty had always been more than just the family lawyer, and he loved Kerry as though she was a favourite niece, but it was not his place to go meddling in her private life. Now, as the detectives rang his doorbell, he wondered what role Vinny Burns was playing in Kerry’s life at the moment, and what was bringing him here. There had been a succession of police and detectives to the house over the last forty-eight hours, including the senior DCI who was running the investigation. He hadn’t seen Vinny Burns around at all, and had thought he was involved in the Drug Enforcement Agency, not kidnapping. Marty could hear the door being opened, and voices, so he came out of his study and walked down the hall where his wife was greeting the officers, her face so tired and aged overnight it broke his heart.
‘Mr Kane?’ Vinny stepped forward and reached out a hand. ‘DI Vincent Burns. We met briefly before.’
Marty shook his hand, recalling the detective coming to question Kerry after the funeral to fish for information.
‘Yes,’ he said, glad that he hadn’t mentioned the Casey family meeting in front of Elizabeth. ‘I remember. Come in.’
‘This is DS William Johnson,’ Burns said gesturing to his sidekick as they came into the hall. ‘We wanted have a chat with you, if that’s possible.’
‘I thought DCI Marsh was in charge of the operation? He was here this morning.’
‘Yes. I know,’ Burns said. ‘I’m part of the team on it too now.’ He glanced at Elizabeth then back at Marty. ‘Is there somewhere we can have a chat?’
Marty looked at Elizabeth and was glad she looked weary enough not to want to be involved.
‘My son Joe and his wife are not here at the moment,’ Marty said, leading them down towards his study. ‘But we can have a chat, of course. Unless you want me to call him?’
‘No,’ Burns said, quickly. ‘That’s fine.’
They walked down to the study and went inside. Marty closed the door softly, bracing himself for awkward questions.
He motioned the two policemen to chairs opposite the fireplace, but stayed on his feet. They declined his offer of tea, and he stood waiting for the first question.
‘Mr Kane,’ Burns began, ‘I’m sure that time we met at the Casey house, that I mentioned I am working with the Drug Enforcement Agency?’
‘Yes,’ Marty replied. ‘I think I recall that.’
‘Well, I may or may not have told you that I was seconded up here from London to work on the wider aspect of organised crime through the international drugs trade as we work hand in hand with agencies across the world.’
‘I do recall that,’ Marty said, wondering when he was going to get to the point of his visit.
A mobile rang, and the DS went into his pocket and fished it out. He nodded to Burns.
‘I have to take this call. I’ll go back to the car. It could take a few minutes.’
Burns acknowledged it and waited until he left the room. Then he spoke.
‘Mr Kane,’ he began. ‘Look. I know this is the most difficult time in your life. I can only begin to imagine the agony for you and your family, but we are working very hard on this operation, and we feel sure that we will get Finbar back to you safe and sound.’
Marty took a breath. He had heard this before over the last two days, but it was just platitudes, because as far as he could gather, the police didn’t really know where to start in all of this. And he knew that one of the reasons for that was because he was withholding information. He kept his face straight.
‘I can only hope you’re right, Inspector.’
Burns let the silence hang in the air for a long moment, and Marty waited.
&nb
sp; ‘Look, Mr Kane,’ he said. ‘I’m going to be really straight with you here. I know you are the family lawyer for the Caseys and have been friends and close associates with them for at least a generation.’
Marty nodded. ‘It’s common knowledge, yes, that they are my clients. And indeed, I’m sure you may have read somewhere that I was very close to the late Tim Casey.’ He cleared his throat. ‘I am still the family lawyer, if that is what you are asking.’
‘Then you must know of the problems the Caseys are having with the Colombian gangsters. One particular nasty individual named Pepe Rodriguez, to be precise.’
Marty said nothing, but his gut jolted a little just hearing the name. He managed to remain poker-faced.
‘On a personal level,’ Burns continued, ‘I know of this individual – I worked undercover in Colombia for over two years, so I know who some of the main players are. I know, for example, that Rodriguez is moving in big time across the Costa del Sol and that he and his henchmen are muscling in on all the turf of the various criminals down there.’ He paused for effect. ‘And I know because, Mr Kane, we have contacts and snitches in places that would surprise you – even within the Colombian organisation – that Rodriguez has expressed an interest in going into the hotel and property business down there.’
Marty kept silent, afraid that anything he would say might blow up in his face.
‘Now,’ Burns went on, shoving his hands in his trouser pockets, looking very much in command. ‘I know personally that Kerry Casey wants take the family into the hotel business and property and that she has a particular hotel interest on the Costa del Sol that is currently under planning and that she hopes will be under construction very soon. And I know that Rodriguez and the Irish mob he’s involved with – one Pat Durkin – are determined they will get that from her.’
Marty took a breath and let it out slowly.
‘Inspector, I hear what you’re saying. But what do you want me to do here? I’m not really sure why you are here.’
‘I wanted to make personal contact with you, Mr Kane. Because I want you to know that perhaps we know more than Kerry Casey thinks we do.’
‘So are you saying that you think these people may be behind the kidnapping of my grandson?’ Marty felt bad at his own duplicity.
Burns stood up, so that he was at eye level with Marty.
‘I’m saying it’s a possibility. Perhaps even likely. But we are very surprised that there has been no contact yet from the kidnappers – no ransom demand – yet it is almost forty-eight hours now since Finbar was taken.’
‘How do you know he was taken by criminals like this? How do you know it isn’t just some random person who is behind it – that’s our main worry; that it may be some kind of . . .’ Marty wanted to say warped paedophile, but he knew this wasn’t true, and felt he’d said enough.
‘I know what you mean, Mr Kane. But we think the Colombian and Irish mobsters – who are working together – have him.’ He paused. ‘So I am here to make a connection with you, to say that if there has been contact with you or Kerry Casey then please, I urge you, don’t leave this to anyone but the police. Please, if they have contacted you or the Caseys, don’t let the Caseys deal with it. They are criminals.’
Marty let that stand for a moment.
‘Are you seriously saying that you think Kerry Casey, who I have known since she was six years old, would actually use my grandson as a bargaining chip to help her build some luxury hotel in Spain? Are you saying that? Because I don’t believe that. I can’t believe that.’
‘No, I’m not saying that, Mr Kane. I’m saying that of course Kerry Casey and her associates would have your grandson’s safety at their hearts. But my worry is that they and their criminal gangs and contacts believe they can take on the Colombians and come out of this without anyone being harmed. That is my fear. And that is the only reason I came here today. To tell you this. To make you aware of this, and to impress upon you the need for police at your back, and not criminals.’
‘Have you spoken to Kerry Casey? Has anyone?’
‘I have tried to contact her. But I haven’t spoken to her as yet. But I will do. Today.’
Marty nodded. Burns buttoned his jacket. He had delivered the message, and it came over loud and clear to Marty. What if he was right? What if they couldn’t just leave it to the Caseys?
‘Thanks for your advice, Inspector.’
Marty nodded as he walked him to the door of the study. As he opened it to go out, Burns turned to him.
‘And please, I hope you will understand that our only goal here is to bring Finbar home. Whatever criminal activity these people want to engage in, they will do it long after your grandson is back, and they will fight among themselves over turf the way they have always done. But a little boy’s safety is at stake here. That is all we want to think about at the moment.’
‘I understand,’ Marty said. ‘Thanks for coming. I’ll see you out.’
They walked to the front door in silence, and Marty opened it and let him out. He glimpsed the DS in the car who didn’t look as though he was doing anything other than giving his boss a wide berth so that he could get his message across. Marty closed the door and stood for a moment with his back to it. He glanced along the hall to the kitchen, where he could see his wife standing at the cooker. She was staring at him as though she could see into his soul, and he could barely look her in the eye.
Chapter Eight
Donna Williams knew there was something well dodgy about the way her man was behaving. As cokeheads went, Lenny Wilson was jittery at the best of times, but for the past two days he could hardly sit down for fully five minutes. She watched him as she sipped from a mug of tea at the kitchen table of their council flat in Glasgow’s rough Calton housing scheme. He was up and down like a yoyo, going from the window to the bedroom, checking his mobile constantly. She knew better than to ask what was going on. The bruise on her cheek was still yellow from last week’s slapping when she insisted he tell her where he’d been all night. She suspected he was shagging some bird who owed him money for coke but needed another few grams to give her the self-belief she needed to go shoplifting up the town. She knew what that felt like. She’d once been that bird, and that’s how she had ended up here with Lenny in this pigsty. She promised herself that one of these days she’d walk out the door and never come back. She would go to her mum where her two little kids lived and start a new life. She promised her mother every time she went to see her children that she would quit the coke and get her life together. For the sake of the kids, who she could see were becoming more distant from her every time she visited. They were settled and happy with her mum now, since she had marched into the hovel Donna lived in nearly two years ago and told her she was taking them away from the shitty existence she was giving them. Donna was ashamed that she didn’t even have the will to fight for them. The coke had become so important that there was no room for anything else. She was glad when she met Lenny Wilson, and could see that he had taken a shine to her. As one of the bigger dealers in the East End, Lenny would be able to feed her habit and she wouldn’t have to hock her skinny mutton at the escort agency any longer. It had been good while it lasted. But not any more. Lenny had become violent, beating her up, jumping into irrational rages about the smallest thing, then begging forgiveness when he saw her bruises. She’d just kept taking more coke and as long as she did, she was his prisoner here. But now she was trying to find a way out. He disgusted her with how he lived and was content to live, and she was managing to cut down her coke use to a minimum without him noticing. She’d secretly been going to drug rehab meetings in the city centre where nobody would recognise her. Perhaps that’s why she’d become more tuned in to the nervy way he was these past few days.
The television was on low in the background, and Donna glanced up as the BBC news came on. She was vaguely listening to it, then she heard the story about the kidnapping of some lawyer’s three-year-old grandson. She’d seen
that two days ago when it just happened and it was the first item on all the news. They were working round the clock, the cops were saying. They were still trying to find the boy, and were determined they would get him back safe. They had no idea who had him, they admitted. Probably some paedo, Donna thought, and felt a shiver run through her thinking of her own little Tommy, and how it would kill her if anything like that happened. Any time you watched the news and a kid went missing, you knew it would end with them finding the body, and she couldn’t help herself thinking about the kid.
‘Put that shite off.’
She heard Lenny’s irritated voice from the doorway, but she ignored it and continued to watch. Then he marched across and snatched the remote control from the table.
‘I said get that shite off. You fucking deaf?’
He glared at her, eyes wild with anger that seemed to come from nowhere.
‘Christ’s sake, Lenny,’ she huffed. ‘I was watching that! Poor wee guy. What the fuck’s wrong with you these days? You’re jumpy as fuck, man.’
He gave her a look that said watch your step or you’ll get a sore face. She looked down at the table, feeling suddenly hurt and angry at the same time. She wanted to confront him, ask if he wanted her out, but she didn’t have the courage in case he told her to go. She wasn’t ready to go back to her mum yet. She needed a bit more time. Lenny’s mobile rang and he turned and left the kitchen. She could hear him talking softly. She waited until she heard the bedroom door closing tightly, then she padded down the hallway quietly. As she stood at the door, she strained her ears. From his tone, it didn’t sound like he was sweet-talking some bird. He was edgy.
‘Fuck’s sake, man,’ he hissed down the phone. ‘No’ again. I was told all I had to do was drive the motor that one time. I was only supposed to drive him from the fucking shopping mall to the drop-off place, and that was it. I mean, that was fucking scary enough. But keeping moving the wean about now? That’s fucking asking for trouble.’