by Anita Waller
‘Sorry.’ He sighed. ‘My head’s all over the place. Don and I were with Craig that afternoon, and he was saying his mum had given him the money to pay off his debt, the one he had with Leon Rowe.’
Kat sucked in her breath, and felt her heart begin a rapid beat. ‘Go on,’ she whispered.
‘Craig was a blethering idiot, because sometime between him leaving his mum’s house with the two thousand pounds, he bought some more weed. By the time he met up with Rowe, he hadn’t got all the two thousand quid, he’d managed to shrink it to eighteen hundred. They came for him that night, Rowe and that Brian King, and took him. They knew we’d seen them take him, so later on they went to Don’s garage, got his can with his lawnmower petrol in it, filled two lasses up with drugs and put ’em in a shed, then set fire to it. The can was left near the shed.’
He paused for breath. ‘They arrested Don next morning, and I legged it. I knew nobody would believe that he’d been with me, and while I was being his alibi, Rowe and King would have come for me. I’ve been in Spain ever since.’
Sally’s eyes never left Kat’s face all the time Mark was speaking. He picked up his cup and drank.
‘Your mum is Valerie James?’
He nodded and put down his cup. ‘She is. You know her?’
‘I’m doing her funeral on Thursday. I saw your sister last Friday when I did the funeral visit. If you come to the church early on Thursday, you can stay in the vestry throughout the service. Wait there until everybody has gone, then you can leave in safety.’
Kat could see his eyes glistening with tears he hadn’t dare shed before. ‘I have to go now, Mark, but unless you’re dead set on living in Spain, I don’t think it will be too long before you’re back in England.’
‘I can’t drive, Mouse, not even this short journey.’ Kat opened the driver’s door and got out of the car. Mouse opened her own door, then walked around to take the seat Kat had vacated, wondering if she ought to confess to never having driven an automatic vehicle before.
‘You just want to sit for a bit?’ Mouse asked.
Kat nodded, not ready to speak.
Mouse waited, knowing eventually the brutality of her predicament would hit Kat, and she would recognise what she was about to lose.
‘Tomorrow,’ Kat murmured softly, ‘tomorrow we will take all our findings to DI Marsden. Tonight I will say goodbye to Leon. I can’t live any longer with all this knowledge inside me, and do nothing about it. When we start our business properly, Mouse, we must never take on any case that is personal to any one of us. It hurts so damn much.’ She began to cry.
Mouse held her close until the torrent of tears had ended, and then started the car. ‘Shall we go home?’
‘Yes. I think so. It’s time for me to grow up. To face facts.’
Mouse pressed gently on the accelerator and marvelled at the smooth way the car took itself through the gears. Her little old Mini had never felt like that.
Mouse parked carefully in the forecourt, aware that the car that was already there was strange to them, and it would presumably need to move out at some point.
They walked around the back and through the kitchen door, to find Doris enjoying a cup of tea with a woman of around forty, hair slightly greying but with beautiful deep brown eyes, eyes that swivelled towards them as they walked through the door.
Kat held out her hand. ‘I’m sorry, I can’t remember your name, but you’re George Reynolds’ wife, aren’t you? I met you at one of the Christmas parties, if I remember correctly.’
The woman nodded, and stood to shake her hand. ‘Yes, I’m Lorna. I came to speak with your husband, but he’s not here. Mrs Lester made me a cup of tea, because I cried on the doorstep.’
‘I’m here. Can I help you? I’ve no idea what time Leon will be home.’
‘I don’t know. It’s George, you see. They found his body buried in the woods, in the same grave as Paddy Halloran. It’s not right.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘My George wouldn’t have anything to do with Paddy Halloran. He detested him. Thought he was lazy, and didn’t like they way he spoke about Mr Rowe. I just wondered if Mr Rowe knew anything about it, and I know the police are wondering why Mr Rowe gave me all that money. So, you see, I may not be the brightest button in the button tin, but I’m not daft. Something stinks.’
‘Leon gave you money? When?’
‘A few days ago. Maybe eight or nine. You see, I presumed he’d run off with somebody else, my George, because he didn’t come home. When Mr Rowe turned up, he gave me an envelope. There was ten thousand pounds in it, Mrs Rowe. Why? What did he know? I want to ask him that. I want to ask him why my George is dead, and if he knows who killed him. He gave me that money long before George’s body was found.’
Kat leaned with both hands on the kitchen table. ‘I can’t answer you,’ she whispered, ‘because I don’t know the answer. What do the police think?’
‘Huh. It’s like speaking to donkeys. Or they think I’m one. I get the impression they think Halloran killed George, but Halloran showed evidence of torture. Burnt feet, two fingers chopped off, that sort of thing, and although they didn’t say it out loud, I’m sure somebody else made Halloran speak, perhaps to tell them what he’d done with George. Your husband liked George, they got on really well, and he would have been mad that George was dead, he was in charge of the Chesterfield side of the distribution pipeline, or so he told me.’
‘Distributing what?’ Kat looked puzzled, although she was tipping over the abyss as she understood more and more of what Leon had never told her.
‘Drugs. Cocaine in particular. He never touched it himself; George liked to be in control, and taking drugs, you’re out of control. But he’d worked hard for Mr Rowe to build up that area.’
‘And you’ve told this to the police?’
‘Not really. I wanted to see Mr Rowe first, to let him know that ten thousand quid won’t buy my silence if he had anything to do with George’s death.’
Doris couldn’t take her eyes off Kat. She knew this must be killing her inside, tearing her apart.
‘Lorna, by tomorrow this nightmare will be resolved, one way or another,’ Doris said. ‘Can I ask you to keep quiet until the police want your statement? That will happen, I promise you. But Kat needs to deal with her husband first. Let me take you out to your car. For your safety, I don’t want Leon to know you’re here. Do you understand?’
Lorna blinked, and stood. Doris grasped her hand, took her out of the kitchen door and around the side of the house, then watched as the younger woman climbed into her car. ‘Trust us, Lorna, this will all be sorted by tomorrow.’
‘It had better be, Mrs Lester, it had better be.’
Kat was ringing Marsden as Doris re-entered the house, and she heard 9am confirmed. Doris couldn’t help but think what a brave woman Katerina Rowe was proving to be.
Chapter 32
Leon arrived home to a quiet household. He waited in the hallway, and then called Kat’s name.
She came through from the lounge and looked at him. ‘Leon.’
He moved towards her and kissed her on the cheek. ‘Hi, sweetheart. I’m just going up to have a shower. We eating in or out?’
‘I’ll come up and talk to you,’ she said, desperately trying to inject an iota of enthusiasm into her voice.
‘You okay?’ He looked into her eyes. She clearly wasn’t fooling him.
‘We’ll talk in the bedroom.’
Leon stepped back, and ushered Kat in front of him. She turned around immediately they entered the room. ‘Shut the door please, Leon.’
He obliged, and pushed it closed. ‘What’s wrong? You have a problem?’
‘I do. My problem is that Craig Adams, along with one or two others that I know about, is dead. He died on the 8th of May 2002. It’s a cold case as far as the police are concerned, but it’s a cold case that has been reopened since Anthony Jackson’s death. Anthony Jackson witnessed that murder, as d
id Oliver Merchant, Peter Swift, Isla Yardley and three more of their friends who were in their circle. Tell me, Leon, do you have plans to kill the other three? Or do you think four deaths will make them keep their mouths shut?’
‘But I was with you the night Jackson was killed! And I’m sure your little friend downstairs will confirm it couldn’t have been me driving that taxi, I’m sure she would have noticed if the driver were black.’
‘We know who was driving the taxi, Leon. The person who was with you on the night you killed Craig Adams.’
Leon sat on the bed with a thud. ‘What? Brian? He was the taxi driver?’
Kat laughed. ‘So I don’t need to ask any further questions, do I. Was that a confession, Leon? You’ll need it for tomorrow, we’ve asked DI Marsden to be here for nine in the morning. I should imagine she’s at the point of picking you up anyway, because everything we’ve found out has been easy to follow. The crunch piece of information she doesn’t have as yet is that Mouse can identify Brian King as Anthony’s killer, and her own attempted murderer. You have tonight to sort things out with the legitimate side of your business, but that’s all. And just for the record, Leon, I know all about the other side.’
Leon’s beautiful black face was slowly turning grey. Brian had brought all this down on their heads? Why? What the fuck was going on? His long-time friend had said nothing. Brian had been working behind his back, but to what end? To get rid of him? To take over the business fully?
Leon’s head was whirling with Kat’s body-blow, and he suddenly remembered the last proper meeting he’d had with Brian, ostensibly called to discuss Anthony Jackson’s potential investment in their business. At that meeting, Brian had mentioned it becoming a three-way split, with him becoming a partner, as opposed to an employee.
He had come away from that meeting saying no to both Brian and Jackson. Was this the result of that decision? Was he being set up to take the fall for everything? But what had Kat said? Beth recognised Brian? That accounted for all the attempts on Beth’s life; it was pure luck Leon had never mentioned to Brian she was staying with him and Kat.
Leon stood and moved towards Kat, who shrank away from him.
‘Kat…’
‘Keep away from me, Leon. And don’t think you can escape this, we have files and files of proof. When Michael Damms, Caroline Boldock and Keith Lancaster start talking, you’re going away for life, and in your case it will mean life. You’re scum, Leon Rowe, absolute scum. How many have you killed with your drugs? And how many have you ordered to be killed? What about George Reynolds? His wife was here earlier, telling me about the ten thousand you gave her. Hush money, was it? I’ve wasted four years of my life on you, and it ends tonight.’
‘Don’t push me, Kat,’ he threatened, and punched her. Unable to keep her balance, she stumbled across the room and crashed her head into the dressing table. Her scream reverberated around the house.
Darkness descended and Kat gave in. She slumped to the floor, unaware of the blood gushing down her face.
Leon stared at her, anger overcoming everything. He moved towards her slumped form, knowing that it was him or her; if he were to escape a prison sentence that was unending, she had to die.
The bedroom door burst open and Mouse stood in the doorway, the gun held in shaking fingers.
‘Move!’ she commanded. ‘Get away from her.’
‘And if I don’t?’ His tone was mocking. He’d seen the reaction of this young woman to the gun, and knew she wouldn’t be able to hit him at three paces, never mind the length of the bedroom.
‘If you don’t, I’ll shoot and make sure your fingerprints are on the gun.’
He laughed. ‘You think you’re good enough to place a bullet in my brain, in exactly the right place for it to look like suicide? You really think that, you silly cow? No, Beth, you kill me and you’ll go to prison for most of your adult years.’
Mouse felt a hand come around her arm and take the gun out of her trembling hands.
‘Mouse might not be able to place a bullet accurately, Leon Rowe, but I certainly can.’ Doris took a step into the room, levering Mouse out of the way with her hip. ‘Now, how do you want to do this? I don’t want to kill you, but I will if I have to. Step well away from Kat, get to the other side of the room. Mouse needs to attend to your wife.’
‘No. Now what are you going to do?’
Doris raised the gun slightly and fired. His left hand exploded and he screamed. ‘You want anything else rearranging?’ she asked.
He staggered to the other side of the room, cradling his hand in the elbow of his right arm. Mouse moved towards Kat, who was opening her eyes.
‘Stay where you are, Kat,’ Mouse whispered. ‘I need to get clean cloths and water, you’re going to be fine.’
‘Leon? Where is he?’
‘He’s at the other side of the room. He’s only got one hand, but he’s under control. I’ll be ringing DI Marsden in a bit, we can’t wait till tomorrow now. He’s injured you, so Nan had to injure him. He was going for you again, Kat.’
‘Is Kat okay?’ Doris asked.
‘She will be. I’ll get her downstairs and see to her when we’ve decided what we’re doing with the pathetic little man cowering in the corner.’
Kat used the side of the bed to haul herself to her feet. She stared at Leon, who was wrapping a towel around his hand in an attempt to staunch the flow of blood.
‘Get out, Leon,’ Kat said calmly. ‘Get out of my life, and make it for ever. Tomorrow we will be handing everything over to DI Marsden, so I’ll tell her you disappeared during the night. If you can’t drive, get a taxi. And don’t ever come anywhere near me or any of my friends or family again. You have this one chance to escape justice, Leon, I suggest you take it. I hope Marsden tracks you down, I really do, because that’s the right thing to happen, but I can’t hand you to her on a plate.’
‘Kat, are you sure about this?’ Doris looked concerned.
‘I’m sure. Go now, Leon.’
Doris stepped aside, and the three women watched as he walked out of the room. Nobody moved until they heard the front door bang, followed by the sound of a car engine starting.
‘Good job I shattered his left hand and not his right, isn’t it?’ Doris said. ‘He clearly thinks it’s okay to drive with just one hand. I should have shattered his kneecap, I suppose.’
Mouse helped Kat to stand, and all three of them went downstairs. The blood from Kat’s head had stopped dripping down her face, and Mouse cleaned the wound, then dressed it. She handed over a couple of painkillers, then made Kat sit in the lounge, her feet raised on the recliner, and rest.
‘I’ll make you a cup of tea now Mouse has put you back together,’ Doris said, ‘and then we’ll talk. We might have dealt with the murdering scumbag who fooled us all, but there’s another murdering scumbag out there. Will Leon go to Brian King, do you think?’
‘I doubt it. I saw the shock on his face when I said Mouse had identified Brian as the taxi driver. He’d no idea. I imagine he’s doing lots of thinking about Brian. He’s used to total loyalty, not the disloyalty after over thirty years of friendship. He’s probably ringing somebody right now to make arrangements to have Brian sorted once and for all.’
‘You think?’ Mouse raised her eyebrows.
‘Yes, I do. I’ve learnt a lot of things about my husband today, and nothing would surprise me.’
‘So do you think we should ring Marsden now?’
Kat sighed. ‘I don’t know. My Christian beliefs say of course we should try to prevent any more deaths, but I’m not just a deacon, I’m also a human being, and I can’t help but feel that both Brian and Leon deserve everything that’s coming to them. Am I wrong? When I think of Sally Adams and Lorna Reynolds…’
The cup of tea, with just a tot of brandy in it, calmed frazzled nerves, and forced them to think logically.
It occurred to them that the crime that could cause them serious issues was the firing of the
gun, and removing most of Leon’s left hand. Fortunately the blood splatter had been confined to the bed; he had helped them massively by landing in that direction, so Mouse went upstairs and stripped the bedding. She checked around and saw one tiny spot on the bedhead. Scrubbing removed it from sight and she hoped it would also defeat any technical wizardry by the police. He had saved the blood from going everywhere by clutching his arm to him, and then wrapping it in a towel which he had taken with him.
The bullet was embedded in the skirting board, in the joint where it met the floor. Mouse prised it out, washed yet more blood away and dropped the bullet into her bowl of water.
The blood from Kat’s head was a different matter, and there was a small pool on the wooden floor. It was easier than removing it from a carpet would have been, but still took some time and with no guarantee it wouldn’t be traced if the police found it necessary to check.
Mouse made the bed ready for Kat, but guessed there would be no sleep.
‘All done,’ Mouse announced a minute later, the washing machine confirming it. ‘I can’t see any more blood but I’d like you two to have a look, in case I’ve missed any. However, let’s not forget he hit you and you bled considerably, Kat. They’ve no reason to suspect the blood is Leon’s unless they actually catch him. You have fresh bedding on, so even if they find Leon and he tells this strange story of a mad pensioner shooting him, we can simply deny it. We’ll just say look for Brian King, he probably shot him. Or one of the others he’s managed to upset in his crooked lifetime. There’s bound to be many who would like to see Leon dead. Now, of course, we need to get rid of the gun.’
‘Already done. Did you find the bullet?’ Doris asked.
‘What?’
‘I said it’s already done. Don’t ask me anything else until this is over, then I’ll tell you where it is. I just need to add the bullet to it.’
Mouse handed over the tiny object. She knew it would be well hidden.
‘So now what?’ Kat said. ‘We ring Marsden?’