Fight Back

by Anna Smith

  ‘How does that sound, Jake?’

  ‘That’s fine. We’re not too far from there, so call everyone in the next five minutes. Give Cal a chance to get in and settle the boy, so he’s waiting for his mum.’

  ‘Great,’ Jack said. ‘But we won’t call anyone till you’re at the supermarket in case you turn up and there are routine cops there bagging a shoplifter or something, and you have to about-turn. Just call us when you get there. What about CCTV though?’

  ‘It’s fine. Cal will pull his hood up.’

  ‘Great.

  Kerry hung up. Within five minutes, Jake phoned back to say they were at the supermarket and the coast was clear. She took out her mobile and punched in Marty’s number. He answered straight away.

  ‘Marty. We’ve got Finbar. He’s safe. He’s well. We’re about to call the cops as we can’t be anywhere near it. We’re taking him to the Tesco on Maryhill Road and leaving him there, but don’t worry. One of our boys will be watching over him till the cops and you arrive.’

  ‘Oh, Kerry! Is he all right? Are you sure?’

  She could hear the quiver of emotion in his voice.

  ‘He’s fine. I don’t know how you’ll explain all this if the cops start asking questions, but don’t worry about that just now. Just go and get your grandson.’

  *

  Jake Cahill pulled into the Tesco car park which was reasonably busy with shoppers, cars and taxis, people moving with trolleys. Cal was glad to see that little Finbar had calmed down and though he was still clinging to him, he was looking out of the window and pointing to the supermarket.

  ‘My mummy and daddy take me here. We going to see them now?’

  ‘Yes,’ Cal said. ‘Your mummy and daddy’s coming soon, Finbar. You just be a good boy with me now and we’ll go inside and wait.’

  ‘I like you,’ the boy said putting his arms around Cal’s neck.

  ‘You’ve got a wee pal there, Cal,’ Jake said. ‘You’ve been good with him, son, I’ll say that for you.’

  ‘He was in a right state when we saw him, Jake. That house. Stinking. And that bastard sitting there. He needs wasting. And he needs it soon.’

  ‘Aye. You’re right about that.’ He looked out of the window and at his watch. ‘Okay. I’d say they’ll all be here pronto, so why don’t you go inside. Don’t go too far in, just through the entrance and the main area, and take him over to the newspapers, where he can stand and look at comics or something. Then take a step back, so you can keep an eye in case some perverts sees him on his own. Then you can just walk away when I phone. His ma will be there before he even notices you’re gone. Got that?’

  ‘Yeah,’ Cal said, opening the door. ‘I’m cool.’ He got out and lifted the boy into his arms, then pulled up his hood so it covered a lot of his face. ‘Come on, wee man. Let’s get your mum.’

  ‘Where is she?’ the boy said, looking around him.

  ‘She’ll be here in a minute. We have to go in here now. You be a good boy, won’t you?’

  ‘I’m a good boy. I’m a big boy,’ Finbar said.

  Cal carried him as they made the short walk through the automatic doors and into the entrance. He stood for a moment, then put Finbar down, who stood clinging to his thigh. He hoped he didn’t make this difficult and draw attention to himself. Then Cal took the boy’s hand and crossed over to the newspapers and magazines shelves. Finbar was immediately engrossed and began looking at superhero magazines on the stand. Cal took a few steps back but close enough so he could still see the doors. His mobile rang.

  ‘Right. Get yourself out now. They’ve just arrived, bells and whistles, three cop cars too. And another car with them which will be Marty and his family. Count to ten and then disappear.’

  ‘Will do.’

  Cal bent down and ruffled the little boy’s hair.

  ‘You’re a good boy now, Finbar, aren’t you? Listen to me. I want you to stand here and watch those big doors and in a couple of minutes your mummy and daddy will come through there to you.’

  Finbar looked at him, a little worried

  ‘You stay with me?’

  ‘Yes. I’ll stay. But if you just watch the big doors, I’ll be back in a second.’

  He didn’t look back at the boy as he saw the doors open and the cops come in, four or five in uniform and behind them a young couple. Their eyes lit up when they saw Finbar.

  ‘Mummy! Daddy!’ Cal could hear Finbar shouting as he walked out.

  ‘Finbar!’

  Cal glanced over his shoulder to see the boy’s mother and father drop to their knees and envelop the boy. All three of them were crying and there were police all over the place. He quickened his step. Then just outside he saw Marty Kane standing by the path. He caught his eye and could see the clever, confident man who had picked him up from a Manchester police cell only a few weeks ago. Now he looked like a shadow of himself, tired and old. Marty glanced at Cal and gave a slight nod of recognition. Then Cal walked briskly towards the waiting car and jumped inside.

  ‘Let’s go,’ Jake said. ‘We have unfinished business at that house.’

  Chapter Nineteen

  Marty Kane turned into the large driveway of his son’s house, his heart in a turmoil of joy, and dread of what lay ahead. He had remained in the supermarket car park at a discreet distance while his son and his wife rushed into the store along with several police officers. He’d wanted Finbar’s mum and dad to have their reunion by themselves. His chest almost burst with emotion the moment he saw his son emerge from the store, little Finbar clinging to his neck, his mother ruffling the boy’s hair and chatting animatedly to him. The picture of delight and sheer relief on the faces of all three would live with him for ever. When he got back to his car, Marty let the tears come as he watched them drive off under police escort.

  Marty’s wife opened the door when he rang the bell and he stepped inside. Her face was flushed with tears and exhaustion. For a second they just looked at each other, then she fell into his arms.

  ‘It’s all right, darling. It’s over.’ Marty caressed her hair as he held her. ‘He’s safe. Thank God he’s safe.’

  ‘Did you see him?’ she sniffed on his shoulder. ‘Does he look all right? Oh Jesus, did they hurt him, Marty?’

  ‘Sssh,’ he consoled her. ‘He looks great. None the worse for wear and he was chatting to his mum and hanging onto his daddy.’

  She eased herself out of his arms.

  ‘Joe phoned. They were taking him to hospital just for a check. They’ll be here shortly.’

  ‘That’s okay. That’s just routine to make sure he’s all right. They won’t keep him there as they’ll want to get him back into his routine immediately. But honestly, he looked fine.’

  Marty looked down as little Johnny came into the hall.

  ‘Where’s Fin? Is he here, Grandpa?’ He rushed forward.

  ‘No. Not yet, son. But your mum and dad will be bringing him home any moment.’ He knelt down and touched his grandson’s face. ‘Let’s go and see if we can find some of his toys for when he arrives. He’ll be desperate to play with them.’

  ‘Oh yeah. Let’s get his Superman toys from the playroom.’

  The boy took Marty’s hand and as he glanced over his shoulder Marty saw his wife standing, beaming and wiping her tears with the back of her hand.

  ‘I’ll put the kettle on,’ she said, and disappeared into the kitchen.

  Marty knew he still had to face the questions from his wife and from his son. When Kerry had phoned him to tell him they’d got Finbar, he’d had to conceal his joy. He had to wait until the call came from the police to tell his son the kidnappers had dropped the boy at a supermarket. He hated himself for the betrayal, and as his son was leaving the house, he gave Marty a look of distrust that cut him to the quick. Marty had insisted on coming with them, but said he would wait outside the place in case they needed him. As they’d walked back to their car, they didn’t even look in his direction. They didn’t need him. H
e felt shut out. And maybe he should be.

  Marty sat drinking a mug of tea and looking on as Johnny knelt up on the sofa, staring out of the window, watching every car that passed. Then he spotted his dad’s Jag swing into the driveway, and leaped off the sofa.

  ‘They’re here, Grandpa! Look! Fin’s here.’

  Without another word he scrambled out of the room and raced to the front door. Marty heard the car doors close and he put down his mug and stood up. He watched as Finbar’s mum unbuckled him from his car seat and lifted him from the car, the little boy’s arms draped around her.

  ‘Look who’s here!’ she called out to Johnny, who was bouncing up and down on the doorstep.

  Finbar turned around and his little face was a picture of happiness. Marty went out into the hall as they came through the front door.

  ‘Granny! Granny!’ Finbar yelped as he wriggled free. He ran into his grandmother’s arms.

  Then he saw Marty.

  ‘Grandad! Grandad! I was looking for you! I was waiting for you, but you didn’t come!’

  Marty felt like a knife had sliced through him. Guilt, shame and relief all flooded through him as the boy ran into his arms. He scooped him up and cuddled him tight, stroking the back of his head and kissing his cheek.

  ‘I know, son. I know, sweetheart. I was looking for you too. But listen. It’s okay now. You’re home. Come on. Johnny got your toys in the playroom.’

  Finbar turned around to his parents and stood for a second, then he ran towards them and hugged them hard. Then without a backward glance he raced with his brother to the playroom as though he’d never been away.

  Marty shook his head and smiled.

  ‘He’ll be fine.’

  All four of them stood in the hall in a long moment of silence, then Joe’s wife, Alice, turned to her husband and fell into his arms.

  ‘Oh, Joe! Oh Christ, Joe!’

  ‘Come on now, sweetheart. Don’t let him see you crying. It’s okay now. Everything is going to be okay.’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ she sniffed. ‘I’m just . . . I’m just so happy. I kept thinking of what our lives would be like if we never saw Fin again. I . . . I . . . He’s back, and I’ll never let him out of my sight again.’

  ‘Come on,’ Elizabeth said. ‘Don’t think that way now. It’s over.’

  *

  They’d sat in the kitchen drinking tea and there was an almost euphoric atmosphere as Finbar had kept running back into the kitchen as though to make sure everyone was still there.

  Joe had talked about his conversation with the police and how they were sending specially qualified officers later to have a gentle word with Finbar to make sure he was coping and not suffering from any discernible trauma, and also to see if they could glean any information from him. They cautioned his parents to keep an eye on him because any emotional damage might not appear immediately and it could be weeks before it showed up in his behaviour. Alice kept saying no matter what showed up they would make it better, that everything was going to be fine. Marty had sensed a bit of a distance in his son’s demeanour and he wondered if it was all beginning to hit him and take its toll. He found that Joe didn’t look him in the eye much, and it worried him. As they began to relax and Marty and Elizabeth talked about getting ready to go home to their own house and leave them alone, Joe walked Marty into the big living room and closed the door.

  Marty stood by the fireplace, bracing himself. He’d been dreading this moment.

  ‘Dad,’ Joe began. Now he did look him in the eye. ‘There’s no easy way to say this, so I’m just going to say it.’ He looked a little nervous. ‘I know you lied to me.’

  The words hung in the air for a moment and Marty kept his face straight but didn’t answer.

  ‘Dad. Look. I know you lied. I know Finbar’s kidnapping was something to do with the Caseys, so please, don’t insult me by lying to me again.’

  ‘Son—’ Marty said.

  Joe put his hand up to silence his father.

  ‘Please. Hear me out. I don’t know what this was all about, and I don’t even know if it’s over, but I know you have been aware since the very start that Finbar’s kidnapping was to do with the Caseys and whatever shit they’re involved in. I’m not talking about all the stuff in the papers and rumours. I’m just taking an educated guess here. I know you, Dad, I’ve watched you all my life. And I can see in your face when you’re lying to me. I know you must have been going through hell, and I’m sorry you had to do that by yourself. But you should have told me.’

  Marty said nothing for a moment, working out how to handle this. This was his son he’d lied to from day one.

  ‘Dad, I need you to tell me what happened. I know how the Caseys work and it won’t go any further. It was them who had something to do with getting Finbar back, wasn’t it?’

  Again, Marty said nothing.

  ‘It had to be. Kidnappers don’t just pitch up to the supermarket and dump a kid they’ve been holding. I mean, maybe they thought the cops were about to rumble them or something, but I don’t believe that. Tell me. Please.’ He paused for a moment. ‘Please, Dad. Our whole relationship depends on this.’

  Marty looked at his son and his heart burst with love for him, for the pain he had been through, pain he would not have had to endure if Marty Kane had not been the lawyer of the Caseys all these years. He didn’t have to do that. He’d made a fortune from being the most successful and sought-after criminal lawyer in the business, yet he was embedded with thugs and drug dealers who shored up the Casey empire. It suddenly dawned on him that if he didn’t tell his son the truth right now, then he would lose him, and he would lose his grandchildren and maybe even Elizabeth.

  Marty sighed. ‘Joe. I had to, son. I couldn’t tell you the truth. I wanted to. I wanted to just let the police get on with the whole investigation, but it was too dangerous. The people who took Finbar are evil and unscrupulous, and they have tentacles everywhere. I was so scared to get the police involved in case it would get botched up, as these things sometimes do, and I was afraid we wouldn’t see Fin again. I couldn’t afford to do that.’ Marty swallowed. ‘It’s my fault, son. It’s my fault he was taken. My fault because of my association with the Caseys. But never in my nightmares did I ever think this was possible.’

  ‘Why couldn’t you tell the cops all this?

  ‘As I told you. It was too risky.’

  ‘So who got Finbar?’

  Silence.

  Then Marty spoke.

  ‘Please. You cannot ever speak about this to your wife or to your mother. This is just between us because it has to be. Are you able to do that?’

  ‘Dad, I have my son back. I can handle anything.’

  ‘Kerry Casey’s men got Finbar back. The ransom demand was that she give up everything the family and organisation has built up. Millions. She was prepared to do that. But . . . But she didn’t.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘The Caseys are a powerful organisation and they have worked on this for the past few days. Of course they considered the police, but everyone was so afraid of it falling apart and anything happening to Finbar.’

  ‘But how could they guarantee it wouldn’t by what they were doing?’

  ‘She was making the deal. She was stringing the kidnappers along, telling them she’d pay the ransom demand, would sign over everything to them – all the family business interests. And at the same time, because of the background work her men had done, she established where Finbar was being held. And they went in and took him.’

  ‘What? They just barged into the kidnappers’ house and took him?’

  ‘No. Not like that. Finbar was being moved to the place where he was going to be handed over as part of the ransom.’

  ‘Jesus Christ, Dad! And you knew all this?’

  ‘No, I promise you, son, I did not know this part at all. They told me nothing of the operation. Nothing at all. Just the other day I was about to ask Kerry to share information with the p
olice because I couldn’t take the agony of what was happening to us. But then this all happened so fast.’

  ‘So what happened?’

  ‘I don’t know exactly and I don’t care. All I know is that as Finbar was being moved, the Casey men moved in and took him. I don’t know how or where.’

  ‘But there will be bodies somewhere.’

  Marty said nothing.

  ‘And what about the ransom? Did Kerry pay it?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘What happened?’

  ‘I don’t know the details, and that’s the truth.’

  ‘So there will be bodies wherever the handover was meant to be, too. Jesus!’

  Again, Marty didn’t answer.

  ‘I don’t know what to say, Dad. Christ almighty! I get some kind of twisted sense that I’m supposed to thank Kerry Casey, but right now I hate her whole stinking lifestyle and the bunch of gangsters that caused my son to be stolen from me. And you know what? He was stolen because of you.’ His voice shook with emotion. ‘Yes. Because of you, Dad, and part of me hates that you are so fucking rooted with these gangsters that you even stood back and lied to me, to my wife, Christ, to your own wife, my mother. You lied to all of us while God knows what could have happened to my little boy. Because of your association.’ He shook his head. ‘It’s . . . It’s just sick. It’s just not fair.’

  Marty stood helpless as suddenly his son broke down in tears. All of the tension, the worry, the anger burst the dam and he stood with tears running down his face. Marty stepped forward and put his arms around him, unsure if he would push him away. But he didn’t. He felt his son’s arms go around him and he sobbed into his chest, like the heartbroken little boy he’d been thirty years ago when Marty had to break the news to him that his brother, their only other child, had been knocked down and killed by a car on the way home from school. That was the last time his son had cried in his arms. And now this. Marty couldn’t find the words to comfort him. So he just held him until he stopped. When he eased himself out of his arms, they looked at each other.

  ‘I need time to process this. All of it,’ Joe said. ‘I need to know how I can work my way through this, and I also need to work out how I’m going to lie to my family now. Just like you. I don’t know how to do that, Dad.’