Swindled (The Sandlin PI Series Book 1)

by S. E. Shepherd

‘Kill them? Yes. No. Sort of.’

  ‘Well, I’m glad we got that straight.’

  ‘He was involved, but not at fault. Well, maybe just a bit.’

  ‘You’ve got to admit, that doesn’t make a whole lot of sense, Han.’

  ‘Please, Paul. Just tell your colleagues to be on the lookout for someone who goes by the name of Vinnie. I wouldn’t be surprised if he doesn’t turn up somewhere with his head bashed in.’

  64

  Vincent – 2019

  Popping below deck to retrieve the heavier of his two suitcases, Vincent placed it on the deck and then climbed over the cabin roof to complete the mooring process. As he carried out the necessary actions, he anxiously glanced around the marina, looking for anyone who seemed intent on causing him harm. He needed to be ready in case he saw those bloody goons again. About to go back below and pick up the second case, he heard a creak behind him. A footstep, perhaps? Checking left and right, he saw nothing untoward.

  A second later, Vincent felt as if his skull was being crushed. A blow to the back of his head sent him reeling below deck. It was the fastest he’d ever made it down those four steep steps.

  Shaking his head, he attempted to work out who had just hit him, but before he had the chance, everything went dark.

  When Vincent came round, the marina was quiet and the temperature had dropped. What the hell had happened? He checked his trouser pockets for his phone. Gone. Some bastard must’ve mugged him. Checking his jacket pockets, he couldn’t find a wallet or ID either. What was he about to do? He had that horrible feeling where you’re on the brink of remembering something, but it simply won’t come. Where was he going? He knew he was supposed to meet someone. He hoped it wasn’t Abbie!

  Making his way back up the steps, he almost tripped over a large suitcase. Was he going on holiday?

  The back of his shirt collar was wet, and a thick liquid was dripping irritatingly down his neck. Reaching up, he touched the back of his head gingerly. Looking down at his hand, he realised his head was bleeding. Figlio di puttana! What had happened?

  He climbed off the boat and walked towards the main office. If pressed, he couldn’t honestly say where he was going. He just knew that his mind was foggy, and he suspected he needed medical assistance. Perhaps if he could have a little sit down somewhere, he’d feel better.

  The more he walked, the more his head wound opened, and the back of his jacket became soaked with blood. Weaving his way along the jetty, Vincent presented quite a picture.

  65

  Lottie – 2019

  After a second, Vincenzo answered Lottie’s question. ‘I told your dad that I’d come back to work for him as a different person, so he wouldn’t realise who I was. So he wouldn’t work out that I knew him. I mean, knew all about him. I said if he wasn’t going to pay me to stay away from his daughter, perhaps he would like to pay me to keep quiet about the abuse.’

  And there it was. The word hung in the air.

  Lottie realised Vincenzo was shaking. ‘Go on, please?’ Her voice was barely a whisper.

  ‘Well, to start with he tried to deny it. Asked me what I was talking about, that kind of thing. But I didn’t give in. I said he knew exactly what I was talking about. We were just kids and those men bullied us. They got some perverse pleasure out of making us do stuff.’

  ‘What stuff?’ In her head, Lottie was begging, not sexual, please don’t make it be sexual.

  ‘For most of the boys it was just humiliating stuff. They were a pair of sadistic bastards. They enjoyed seeing us squirm. In the beginning it was press ups, sit ups, stomach crunches. You name it.’

  ‘But that’s just PE. I wouldn’t call that—’

  ‘In the beginning!’

  ‘Right.’ Lottie realised there was no escaping the inevitable outcome of this conversation.

  ‘Then it was – drop your trousers boys. Watch each other pee boys. Or worse – one of us wouldn’t be allowed to pee. Sometimes for hours! It was all about them being in control of us. Remember, this wasn’t a proper group – it wasn’t Scouts or Boys Brigade, this was a fucking made up club. Once they realised they were getting away with it, they started touching us, or making us touch each other. Then, we were made to touch them.’

  Although she was horrified, Lottie still had to ask, ‘Did they … you know?’

  ‘Yes, eventually the boys they could manipulate the most got treated to the deluxe camping trip. I’m guessing that’s what you’re asking.’

  She gagged. ‘Don’t tell me any more. Please.’

  ‘Look, I didn’t bring you here to make you feel bad. As soon as I came back and pretended to be Chen, I worked out that you didn’t have a clue what your dad had been up to. I have no intention of sharing all the gory details with you purely to upset you. I just want you to understand why I was arguing with him that day.’

  ‘Couldn’t you tell someone? Couldn’t you make it stop?’

  ‘You think I was going to tell my mum?’

  ‘Yes!’

  ‘No way. Can you imagine trying to talk about it? It was humiliating. Men like that, they tell you it’s all your fault. Me and Jayden got it the worst, probably ’cause we didn’t have dads. They did the whole – keep this a secret, boys. You don’t want to upset your mums. Every Easter and summer holiday my mum would drop me here with my spare clothes scrunched up in a black plastic bag. She thought she was bringing me to have fun. I couldn’t tell her different.’

  Lottie felt bile rise up into the back of her throat. Could it actually be her dad that Vincenzo was talking about? But she believed him. There had always been something about Douglas, something she couldn’t put her finger on.

  ‘We talked about telling people, me and Jayden. We tried to plan how to do it. But by then they had photos. They made a few of us undress, and they took polaroid pictures. We were so scared of anyone seeing our willies, as we called them back then, we couldn’t bring ourselves to tell.’

  ‘When did it stop?’ She wanted to put her arms around him, but she wasn’t sure it was appropriate. He was standing so close to her now; she could feel him quivering.

  ‘When the worst one died.’

  ‘The worst one?’

  ‘That Arthur Delamont from the shop. He dropped down dead, and the whole camping thing stopped. I guess your dad was too much of a coward to do it alone.’

  Lottie wanted to take some comfort from the fact that her dad was not the worst one. But the only way she could fully appreciate that news was to ask for more details, and she knew she couldn’t take it. Instead, she asked, ‘And that’s what you told my private investigator friend?’

  ‘Not all of it. Just that I was here the day he died. And we were arguing about stuff from the past, and that it was me he was taking a step towards. I think she guessed about the abuse. I don’t even know why I told her what I did. She’s just …’

  ‘Persuasive?’ Lottie offered.

  ‘Insistent!’

  ‘It’s okay, Chen, I mean … oh for God’s sake, you have too many names, and to me you’ll always be Chen.’

  ‘I like it when you call me that,’ he smiled, ‘and thank you for saying it’s okay.’

  ‘I mean it. It was an accident. In some ways it’s good to know what happened. I’d always assumed my stepdad had something to do with it.’

  ‘It’s right that you know the truth about his death, but I’m sorry you had to hear all the rest.’

  ‘Don’t be sorry. You deserved some justice. If he was still alive, I’d be urging you to tell the police.’

  ‘Really?’ Vincenzo seemed surprised.

  ‘Yes, I honestly don’t think I could have lived with myself if I’d known about it and not stopped it.’ Lottie gazed back at the stream, trying to see her dad’s accident from the other side, now she knew the truth.

  ‘Like your mum did.’

  Lottie’s head snapped around. ‘What?’

  ‘Yeah, keeping quiet about what her husband did was what
killed your mum.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ Lottie’s head shook with confusion.

  ‘Didn’t your private dick tell you?’

  ‘Tell me what?’

  ‘Her death was my fault too.’

  66

  Hannah – 2019

  Hannah was steadily wearing out her parents’ new carpet. Unable to keep still, she marched up and down the lounge, repeatedly shouting, ‘Where the fuck are you, Lottie?’

  Dixie might be old, and a bit deaf, but she had worked out that something was wrong. Still trying to adjust to her new home, and with no Lottie in sight, she had started following Hannah on her trek, but was obviously finding it hard to keep up; her legs were not made for power walking.

  Jacqui poked her head around the lounge door. ‘We’re off now, love.’ Spotting the frantic walking, she asked, ‘Are you still worrying?’

  ‘Yes. Mum, I can’t get hold of her.’

  ‘She’ll be okay. She’s a grown up.’

  ‘I keep thinking of all the things that could’ve happened to her.’

  ‘Oh, goodness, tell me about it. We went through all this when you were a teenager. Trust me, it’s not worth getting yourself in a state over. You always came home, alive and well. You came when you were ready.’

  Hannah shook her head. What was the point in trying to explain; her mum didn’t know the ins and outs of it all. Perhaps if she did, she’d join Hannah and Dixie on their route march.

  ‘I think you should sit down; you’re worrying the dog. She must be very confused … and tired.’

  ‘I didn’t ask her to get up.’

  Ken called from the hallway, ‘Jacqui, love, we need to go. Taxi’s here.’

  Jacqui took one last look at Hannah. ‘Are you going to be okay? I mean, it’s Dixie’s first night, and all this stress about Lottie. Shall I cancel the dinner?’

  ‘No, Mum. You go. Have a nice meal.’ Hannah gave a half-hearted smile.

  A second later she heard the front door close, and the taxi drove off.

  Of all the nights for her mum and dad to plan a romantic meal, it had to be this one. Of course, she had to let them go. It would’ve been incredibly selfish to expect them to cancel. Realising that staying at home and wearing out the carpet was getting her nowhere, Hannah concluded that she needed to get out there and search. Half of her figured the best place to look would be the pub where the lads often drank, and the other half wondered if Lottie and Vincenzo might have paid a visit to Mulberry House. She couldn’t explain it; it was just a feeling that she had. But which place was right?

  ‘Fuck!’ It was no good. She couldn’t search both places at once. Hannah grabbed her phone.

  ‘Hi. It’s nice to hear from you. How are you?’

  ‘I’m fine, thanks, Dave. Actually, scratch that; I’m not fine. Why do people always say that? I need your help.’

  ‘My help? Okay.’

  ‘Are you free … like right now, I mean?’

  ‘Yeah. I just dropped Noah back at his mum’s place.’

  ‘Oh, that’s great. So you’re seeing him again?’

  ‘Yep. I took your advice; I joined a group. Then, I spoke to Shelley, and I told her I was cleaning up my act for my boy. I’ve seen him a couple of times so far. As long as it’s obvious that I’ve not been drinking, Shelley’s going to let me take him out. We’ve been to the park and Play Zone. It’s early days, but I’m feeling positive. I think I can do it this time, Hannah.’

  ‘That’s brilliant, Dave. I’m really pleased for you.’ After a pause, she said, ‘Sorry to change the subject—’

  ‘Yeah, sure, you need my help. Fire away.’

  ‘One of my friends has gone missing. I’m not sure, but she might have got herself into a bit of bother. I really need to get out there and look for her. But I’ve got a couple of places in mind. I’ve wasted enough time simply expecting her to come home.’

  ‘Home?’

  ‘Yeah. We live together.’

  ‘Wow. Congratulations.’

  ‘No, not like that. She’s just a friend, but a good one. I don’t want to let her down, Dave. You know what I mean.’

  ‘Sure, sure. Where do you need me to check?’ Dave sounded excited.

  ‘She works in Hastings auction house, but I’m sure she’ll be long gone from there now. Maybe you could look in No. 21 and around that area.

  ‘Number what?’

  ‘The Two Bishops to you, old timer.’

  ‘Oh right. Yeah, I heard it had been done up. I haven’t been there for a while; I did all my drinking at home.’

  Hannah realised her mistake. ‘Oh God, how stupid of me. Are you … umm …’ She paused, phrasing the question in her mind. ‘Are you okay to go into a pub?’

  ‘Yeah. I’ll be fine. I tell you what, there’s no better incentive for staying sober than being able to see my son again.’

  ‘Great. I mean … well … there is one other place, but it needs discretion. Whoever goes there might have to do a tiny bit of trespassing.’

  ‘Where?’

  ‘You know Mulberry House, that big estate?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘Well, if you head down Heath Lane, there’s a fence that runs along the perimeter of the estate. Halfway along the fence there are a couple of panels that can be swung to one side and you can fit through the gap. Maybe one of us could just have a quick look in the garden there.’

  ‘Why the hell would she be there?’

  ‘She used to live there.’

  Dave sucked in his breath. ‘Nice!’

  ‘It’s a long shot. I’d say we should only go to Mulberry House if there are no lights on. What do you think? If you’re sure you’ll be all right in a pub, I’d say you take the pub and I’ll try Mulberry House.’

  ‘Got it.’

  ‘I’m texting you her photo now.’

  A moment later, she heard Dave whistle, ‘Good looking bird.’

  ‘Dave!’

  ‘Sorry – girl.’

  ‘Try again!’

  ‘Umm … woman.’

  ‘Bingo. Call me if you see her, and I’ll come right away.’

  ‘No worries. Now you’ve called me, she’ll probably walk through the door before you even have time to leave. It’s always the way.’

  ‘God, I hope you’re right.’ Hannah ended the call and snatched up her jacket. Dixie resumed her pacing.

  Within a second, Hannah’s phone began to ring. Had Dave changed his mind about helping? Was Lottie trying to get hold of her? No to both. Paul’s name was on the screen. ‘Hello.’

  ‘Hi. Are you free to talk?’

  ‘Yes. Of course. Paul, spit it out.’

  ‘Calm down. I wanted to let you know, I called a couple of hospitals. Just in case, you know, because you were being a little bit psycho about it.’

  ‘I was not being a little bit psycho; I just have this feeling—’

  ‘All right, listen Han,’ Paul clearly didn’t have time for her feelings. ‘One of them says they’ve got a patient in A&E with a nasty head injury. Apparently, he’s claiming he can’t remember a bloody thing.’

  ‘Shit!’

  ‘It could have nothing to do with the bloke your mate was meeting today, but … you know.’

  ‘Yeah. It’s worth following up.’

  ‘I’m going over there now to check it out. I’ll take my partner with me. He’s new – it’ll be good for him to do a bit of interrogation work, see if this patient is as forgetful as he says he is.’

  ‘Your partner’s a lucky guy.’ Hannah felt jealous.

  ‘He’s a lanky twat. But he’s all right.’

  Hannah laughed. She missed the banter of the job.

  ‘We’ll ask him if he’s called Vinnie. Maybe that’ll jog a few brain cells.’

  ‘Thanks.’

  ‘Sit tight. I’ll let you know.’

  Hannah hung up, desperately wishing that she was still a copper. What she wouldn’t give to go and question this supposed am
nesiac for herself. Still, she had some investigating of her own to do. She certainly didn’t plan to ‘sit tight’. Was Lottie over at Mulberry House? Hannah reckoned she could probably remember the way. But, just in case, she put the address into Google Maps on her phone.

  67

  Vincent – 2019

  The doctor asked if Vincent knew what his name was. A question he’d already been asked by several people.

  Vincent told each of them the same thing, ‘I don’t remember.’

  The doctor seemed to be under the impression that he was faking. He shone his little torch into Vincent’s eyes and told him to follow his pen with his gaze as he moved it from side to side. He asked how many fingers he was holding up. Vincent could answer that one; he hadn’t forgotten how to count.

  Two police officers arrived. Who’d called them? The younger, a ridiculously tall man, asked, ‘Can you remember your name?’

  ‘No. I keep telling everyone the same thing. I don’t know what it is.’

  ‘Do you know what happened? Why there’s a gash in the back of your head?’

  ‘No.’ Vincent averted his eyes, looking at the floor. When he glanced back up, the adolescent copper was waiting. Vincent shook his head. ‘I don’t know. If I don’t know who I am, how the hell do you expect me to know who did this to me?’

  The police officer jumped in. ‘Ahh, so this wasn’t an accident.’

  ‘I guess not …’

  ‘How can you be so sure, but not know your own name?’

  Vincent rubbed his temples. To the doctor, he asked, ‘Do I have to put up with this? This guy’s not helping my headache.’

  The doctor shrugged. ‘He’s got a point.’

  ‘I was just guessing. I’m not accident prone. I mean … I don’t think I am.’

  The police officer asked, ‘You honestly don’t know your own name?’

  ‘That’s what I keep telling you.’