Family

by Owen Mullen

  Danny waited for my reaction and wasn’t disappointed.

  ‘Why? For God’s sake, why?’

  The question seemed to surprise him, as if the answer to it was obvious.

  ‘Should’ve thought you wouldn’t need it explained, little brother. Squaring the circle. Payback for what you did to Cheryl and Rebecca.’

  His twisted logic stunned me.

  ‘What I did?’

  ‘Yeah, if it wasn’t for you Rebecca would still be alive.’

  ‘You’re completely off it, Danny. See a doctor. You need help.’

  The bravado would be short-lived and we both knew it.

  ‘Am I? Refresh my memory: who chased Albert Anderson across London and threw him into space? That was you, wasn’t it?’ He chuckled. ‘Old Albert, quietly eating his morning fry-up when along comes the fucking Lone Ranger and splatters him and his sausages all over the road.’

  ‘You said he’d killed them.’

  ‘Not my fault you’re stupid enough to believe me. Though you aren’t that stupid. Saw what’s on the computer in the office and figured it out, didn’t you?’ He tugged at a white sleeve and spoke to himself. ‘Should’ve worn red.’

  ‘There’s a camera in the clock. You’ve been spying on me from the beginning.’

  ‘In the clock, in the bedroom, in the kitchen. All set up and ready for you to arrive. Been watching you twenty-four seven. Saw you playing happy families with Mandy and her kid.’

  ‘They had nothing to do with any of it.’

  He disagreed. ‘Oh, but they did, little brother, they had everything to do with it. They evened the score.’

  Danny filtered me out and focussed on the tools on the floor.

  ‘Decisions, decisions.’ He pointed gleefully like an excited child. ‘Eeny, meeny, miney, moe.’ Then leered, picked up the metal bar and tapped the palm of his hand.

  ‘Got to laugh, haven’t you, bro?’

  He leaned on the chair, staring hate.

  ‘Why didn’t you have me killed in Wandsworth?’

  He considered the question, but not for long.

  ‘Too easy. Far too easy. You had to suffer, the same as I’d suffered.’

  He pushed the chair away and came towards me until we were face to face, spit gathered in the corners of his mouth, his breath beery, sour from the evil living in him.

  ‘You’re a monster, Danny. A fucking aberration.’

  He bared his teeth like a rabid dog – the look I’d seen the day he kicked the Indian shopkeeper to death. If he cracked, the pantomime would be over; he’d kill me, there and then.

  Slowly, he got himself under control, walked to the bottles on the floor and opened a fresh one. A minute passed. Then another. He wiped his mouth on his sleeve and broke wind.

  ‘In case you’re wondering, your girlfriend didn’t go quietly.’

  ‘Am I your girlfriend?’

  I didn’t want to hear it.

  ‘Didn’t fancy it myself. Marcus and Norrie gave her a good seeing to. Meant to ask, Marcus, was she any good?’

  Marcus joined in the fun. ‘Nah, her heart wasn’t in it. No worries, mine was.’

  Danny laughed. ‘Can’t say that was a problem when I was with her. Sorry. Have I shocked you, little brother? Didn’t she mention she was with me? Well, she was. A couple of years on and off. Mostly on. Should’ve let the bitch do herself in when she tried and saved us all a lot of bother, eh?’

  He ran a hand over the smile on his lips; he was enjoying this.

  And suddenly, it all made sense: the comments and jokes I wasn’t in on, not visiting me in Wandsworth, and his insistence on having me around so he could take his revenge in his own way and in his own time. Mandy and her daughter were collateral damage in the war of attrition he was waging against the brother who’d betrayed him with his wife.

  Nobody noticed Nina standing by the door until she burst forward holding the gun Danny had given her in both hands, feet spread and knees bent like a TV cop, her eyes crazy with anger.

  She screamed, ‘You bastard! You killed them! You murdered Cheryl and Rebecca.’ Tears of rage welled and rolled down her cheeks. ‘You’d lost her so nobody else could have her, was that it? Once you marry the great Danny Glass, you belong to him forever. And little Rebecca.’ Nina’s head moved slowly from side to side. ‘That was low, even for scum like you.’ She edged towards him and nodded towards me. ‘No wonder Cheryl loved Luke. Let him go. Let him go, Danny, or I’ll drop you.’

  Danny’s expression didn’t alter; he wasn’t fazed, not even a little bit. He said, ‘Well, well, look who’s here. Britain’s next property tycoon. Using my money, of course. Another fucking loser who thinks she can put one over on me. Don’t worry, sis, I haven’t forgotten you, you’re next on my list. Think I wouldn’t catch on to what you were doing with Lover Boy?’ He grinned. ‘Soon as I found out you’d hooked up with him, I knew something was going on.’

  Danny spat on the ground and turned to me. ‘Our little sister’s been thieving from us, brother. Yeah. Our own flesh and blood. Shakes your faith in the human race, doesn’t it?’

  Nina hit back. ‘I forgot, you’re a big believer in family.’

  ‘You knew about them and did nothing.’

  Nina’s mouth twisted in a sneer. ‘Cheryl and Luke? Why would I get in the way? She was my friend and, for the first time in a long time, she was happy. Apart from Rebecca, Luke was the only good thing in her life. You treated her like shit; humiliated her. Your trophy wife. She loved him – they both did. Do you understand, you bastard? Your wife and your daughter. Rebecca adored her uncle Luke. Asked me once why he couldn’t be her daddy. How does that make you feel? Even a child knew what a worthless piece of trash you are.’

  Her focus was absolute, all of it on Danny; it might’ve been just him and her in the room. She wasn’t aware of Norrie edging closer until he grabbed her from behind. Nina struggled but the Glasgow hardman was too strong for her – the gun dropped to the floor and echoed in the derelict building.

  I fought against the ties binding me, oblivious to the sear of pain as the rope burned the skin from my wrists. Seeing my sister mauled by this animal was more than I could stand. Danny acted as if it was just a day on the farm but his eyes said different; the light in them hardened. Even he couldn’t bear to hear his child had wished another man to be her father.

  ‘Put her in the boot. I’ll deal with her later.’ He clapped his hands and came back to me. ‘Where was I before we were so rudely interrupted? Oh, yeah, I remember. The morning the bomb went off. Ask me where I was.’

  ‘Fuck off.’

  He pressed his forehead, damp with sweat, against mine. ‘Ask me, you bastard.’

  I didn’t rise to it and he screamed, ‘Fucking ask me where I was!’

  I stayed silent – he had all the cards.

  ‘Then, I’ll tell you – between Mandy’s creamy thighs, that’s where. When I should’ve been with Rebecca, I was with that slag. Now you understand why I hated her.’

  Insanity explaining itself – the scariest thing I’d ever heard.

  Everyone involved had been paid out: me, tricked into going after Albert Anderson; Sean Poland, hung from a tree in Norwood Park; Vincent Finnegan, crippled for life. He’d even blamed the prostitute he’d been with for what he’d done.

  Everyone culpable but himself.

  Behind him, Norrie slipped a CD into the ghetto blaster. Danny listened to the opening chords and shook his head. ‘Must’ve been ten or twelve when I bought this for you. Not long stopped wetting the bed. You’ve probably forgotten. The way you’ve forgotten all the stuff I did.’

  He’d murdered his wife and child.

  I hadn’t forgotten that.

  Danny’s memory was different from mine. ‘You played this bloody track so often I couldn’t hear myself think. Wanted to smash it over your head.’

  On cue, the intro of ‘Roll With It’ rocked the room. He grinned across the room; we were sharing
something from a happy past instead of the soundtrack to a teenage wasteland.

  ‘Takes you back, doesn’t it? Oasis. Only know the name because of you.’

  The blow caught me high on the side of the head. Pain like I’d never known cut through me. Danny hit me again, harder. Something snapped in my chest and I howled. He lifted the hammer and one of the nails, changed his mind and put them back down.

  ‘There’s no hurry. Got all day if we want. Why don’t I put the video on a loop so you get a good look at it? Leave you alone to take it in properly. Yeah, that’s an idea. Everybody appreciates a bit of time to themselves. We’ll be outside if you need us.’

  Danny balanced the mobile against the back of the chair, the screen facing me, and left with his thugs in tow. At the door, he turned. ‘Need to make sure our bitch of a sister’s comfortable. Don’t understand where I went wrong bringing you two up, honest to Christ, I don’t.’ He winked. ‘See you in a bit, bro.’

  64

  Every time I breathed, pain shot through me; my ribs were cracked – and this was just my brother’s opening move. Worse was coming. Danny would get started in earnest: I could look forward to a slow death. The tools spread on the flagstones were capable of inflicting more hurt than I could imagine. He wasn’t in a hurry; he’d said it himself. Before he was finished, I’d be pleading with him to put me out of my misery. Danny was at home in the role of jolly psychopath; there wasn’t much acting involved.

  Everybody who’d been connected to the bomb or the bomber was either dead or maimed. I was the icing on the cake.

  I turned from the phone and the video on the screen, ashamed to have played even an unwitting part in what had happened to Mandy and Amy. Thinking about it was more than I could handle. I’d do anything to turn back time and do what I should’ve when I’d had the chance – give them the money and take them wherever they wanted to go, so long as it was far away from Danny Glass.

  A hand on my shoulder startled me. Then the rope binding my wrists loosened and I was free. My first reaction wasn’t gratitude, it was anger. ‘Took your time.’

  Felix said, ‘You had to be sure what Danny had done with them.’ He pressed the off switch and the mobile closed down. ‘Now, you know.’

  He was right. Now, I knew.

  Nina: I had to get to her. Right now, I needed to be patient and pray there was enough time.

  Vincent Finnegan came out of the shadows, beads of sweat gathered on his brow, his skin the colour of old wax. The man I remembered would have punched a hole in the wall if he’d had to. Like most of that life, those days were over. Climbing through the window had taken more than he had, and I wondered just how badly my brother had damaged him.

  ‘You okay, Vincent?’

  He nodded.

  I didn’t believe him.

  Felix handed me my gun.

  I said, ‘Turn the video on.’

  He gave me a look. ‘Sure?’

  ‘They have to think nothing’s changed. Put the boards back on the window. When I make my move, so do you. Take out Marcus. Leave the other two, they’re mine.’

  Finnegan was ready to argue; the Irishman had his own scores to settle. I wasn’t having any.

  ‘He’s mine, Vincent. It’s non-negotiable.’

  ‘I need this, Luke. Swear to God. Sean was only carrying out orders. Danny’s orders. He didn’t deserve what they did to him. Leave me something.’

  ‘Sorry.’

  Finnegan wouldn’t give up; his friend had been murdered and he’d been left a cripple – dragging himself through the window had taken courage. More than I could know. Like me, he was driven by revenge. And I was denying him.

  His brittle accent softened. ‘Any idea what it’s like to wake up every morning with this?’ He beat his fist off his gammy leg. ‘To know you’ll never be with a woman? Danny should’ve finished me when he had the chance. Would’ve been doing me a favour.’

  It was a strong claim.

  Mine was stronger.

  Danny returned the same as he’d left, grinning like a crazy man. His eyes lit up when he saw me bent forward, tied to the wooden column.

  ‘Apologies for keeping you waiting, bro. Norrie was telling a funny story. The stuff they get up to in that Glasgow, you wouldn’t credit it.’

  Another beer got opened. He took a swig and sighed. ‘It’s all right laughing. Let’s get to it.’

  Over by the door, Marcus and Norrie waited for the show to begin.

  Danny said, ‘Did you love her? I mean my whore of a wife, not the hooker. Nobody could love a hooker. Her kid got to you though, could see that. Sitting beside you on the couch, holding your hand, wanting to marry you when she grew up. Cute.’

  He ran a finger along the marks on my chest and poked the skin.

  I winced and he said, ‘Oh, dear. Something not right there, little brother. Got a couple of cracked ribs, I’m thinking. Funny things, ribs. Doctors can’t do nothing for them. Heal themselves, apparently. Yeah, and broken ribs are supposed to be fucking agony. Better hope you don’t get any.’

  Danny swung the iron bar above his head. I dived upwards and caught his wrist at the top of the arc. Surprise bought a vital second but he recovered quickly. We struggled, locked together, straining for an advantage, his eyes not leaving mine, years of pent-up hatred boring into me.

  I returned his stare with ice – our lives, everything we’d been, everything thing we’d done, was in this moment.

  Only one of us would survive.

  Marcus went for the gun in his jacket and didn’t get there – Finnegan shot him in the heart. He dropped full-length, a pool of blood spreading around him on the flagged floor.

  Scotch Norrie decided he was onto a loser and threw his hands in the air, preferring the live-to-fight-another-day option. Until then, my brother had been confident he could take me. Suddenly, he wasn’t so sure. His fingernails dug into my skin and he hissed his festering regret in my face.

  ‘Should’ve done for you soon as I found out. My little girl would be alive.’

  ‘Except you didn’t, Danny, and I’m going to kill you.’

  He took in the electric drill on the floor, wondering if he could get to it in time, decided he could and made his move; the iron bar fell to the floor; the drill whirred into deadly life in his hand. I grabbed the Beretta. Danny looked pathetic – an electric drill against three guns.

  Doubt fell like a veil over his eyes. Fair play to him, he blinked it away and brassed it out. ‘Gonna shoot me? Gonna shoot me over some tart and her sprog? You’re having a laugh.’

  ‘That isn’t why. Somebody needs to put you down.’

  ‘And that’s you, is it?’

  ‘And that’s me.’

  ‘Don’t believe you, little brother. Remember that time your first girlfriend—’

  I’d heard enough of his bullshit to last me the rest of my life. Felix brought the butt of his gun down on Danny’s head. Scotch Norrie’s brain raced to come up with something that might save his life. Fear thickened his already thick Glasgow accent.

  ‘C’mon, Luke. C’mon, man. This is between you and your brother.’

  He’d killed Mandy and Amy. Nothing he could say would make me let him go. The next words out of his mouth sealed the decision. His tongue flicked nervously over his lips. ‘The club. That was me. You can use somebody like that, can’t you?’

  The bullet entered his eye, came out the back of his head and ricocheted off the wall. Norrie’s brain would’ve registered a millisecond of blinding light, then nothing. No flames roasting the flesh from his bones. No super-heated air destroying his lungs.

  I’d given him an easy death. Few men deserved it less.

  Danny was naked and bound to the same pillar that had held me, his body flabby from lack of exercise and too much booze, the skin off-white and wrinkled; the instruments of hideous torture he'd used on others lying before him.

  His reaction wasn't what I'd hoped for. I'd wanted him to feel the humiliat
ion and fear he'd inflicted on others – I was going to be disappointed.

  He looked at the tools on the floor, stained with the blood of their victims, then at me.

  ‘This isn’t your game, little brother. You don't have the bottle for it… never had, never will. Better let Vincent take over.’

  Finnegan shuffled and stayed where he was.

  ‘He could do it, couldn't you, Vinnie? How's the leg, by the way? Not be pulling too many ladies though, eh!’

  I picked up the drill Danny had intended to use on me and moved closer, so he could see the cold truth in my eyes and realise I could and would kill him – for the innocent victims at the Picasso Club, Cheryl and Rebecca, Mandy and Amy and an Indian shopkeeper who didn't deserve to die.

  The vicious blade marked his forehead. My finger gently squeezed smooth the trigger.

  ‘You're wrong. Nothing would be easier. Except that would make me like you and I'll never be that. But know this, Danny. Everything you've worked for, everything and everyone you own, belong to me now.’

  That got to him. He screamed. ‘Fuck you! Fuck you! My sweat built it. You did nothing. Nothing!’

  He pressed his head to the drill, breaking the skin. A thin line of blood ran down the side of his nose into his mouth. ‘Do it, you useless fucker! Do it!’

  I threw the drill away, picked up the Beretta and taunted him.

  ‘Promised you'd get me into The Lucky Bastards Club, and you have. Cheers, bro.’

  Danny had always been unstable. From where he’d come from – where we’d both come from – maybe that wasn’t the surprise it might’ve been. What he thought of as my betrayal with a wife he'd never loved had sent him over the edge. He breathed hard through gritted teeth, stamping the ground at his feet – the great Danny Glass reduced to a crazed beast.

  I almost felt sorry for him.