“I wouldn’t think so, Karl. Patrick is a solicitor. Solicitors don’t go around burning down clubs, do they?”
“Well, somebody wanted my clubs gone and I won’t rest until I know who and why.”
Erica climbed under the duvet. “I’m tired,” she yawned. “Are you coming to bed?”
“No, I need a drink,” Karl grunted, slamming the bedroom door and making his way down the stairs.
EIGHTY-FOUR
Joe was woken early the next morning by the sound of banging on the door of his flat. The bedside clock showed seven fifteen.
“Who the bloody hell’s that?” he muttered to himself as he climbed out of bed and walked over to the door.
“Marion? What on earth’s the matter? Do you know what time it is?” he grumbled, releasing the chain from the door.
“Never mind that,” Marion cried breathlessly, “I have something to show you.”
Marion pushed past Joe and went into the lounge. “Look,” she said, retrieving an A4 piece of paper from her bag. “Look at this, Joe.”
Joe walked over to the table and picked up the document.
“It was amongst some old papers of Paula’s,” Marion said excitedly. “I hadn’t paid much attention to them before. In fact, I’d offered everything belonging to Paula to young Charlotte, but look here. You know what this means?”
Joe was silent as he stared at the document, a death certificate, in the name of Thomas Edward Meadows. Thomas Edward Meadows was the name of Erica’s father, the paedophile who Erica believed she had bludgeoned to death when she was fourteen years old.
“It says he was stabbed,” Marion cried excitedly, pointing to the entry stating the cause of death. “Look, ‘multiple stab wounds’, that’s what killed him. Erica has been innocent all this time. It must have been that bloody Karl that killed him and let poor Erica take the blame.”
Joe stared at the document for several seconds.
“The bastard,” he hissed. “I’ll kill him. I swear to God, I’ll kill the lowlife bastard!”
Marion reached over to Joe and held his arm. “Calm down, love,” she said softly. “There’s time for revenge when we get Erica safely away from him.” She guided Joe to the couch and they sat down.
“I bet that’s what Paula was blackmailing him with,” she said thoughtfully.
“I know Erica confided in Paula about what she had done to her father when they were in care,” Joe said quietly.
“We can’t let him get away with this,” Marion said determinedly. “That’s two people Karl’s killed. He’s got to be stopped.”
“Don’t worry,” Joe spoke almost in a whisper. “Karl’s going to get what’s coming to him. I can promise you that.”
“You need to take Erica as far away from that evil bastard as you can get.”
“That’s just what I’m planning to do.”
“You’ll have to be careful though. You know what he’s like. He will come after you.”
“Don’t worry about him. Karl won’t be making trouble for either of us. I think it’s about time I cashed in my insurance.”
“What do you mean? Cashed in your insurance?”
“Never mind. Just a little something I’ve been saving up.”
Joe went into his bedroom and returned a few minutes later dressed.
“Be careful, Joe. Karl can be…”
“Don’t worry, Marion. I can handle Karl. He’s probably on his way to the club now. I’ll ring Erica on my way there.”
“Joe, don’t you think we should call the police? Let them handle it?”
“No, not the police. This is something I have to deal with. I should have dealt with it a long time ago. Oh, by the way, before I forget, I have some news about your granddaughter.”
“Charlotte? What’s she been up to?”
Joe outlined what had occurred the previous evening at the Sapphire Club.
“Oh, the silly girl, she’ll be getting herself killed. She’s not still at Erica’s, is she?”
“No, Erica rang me yesterday. Charlotte left with that guy from Ireland. Patrick, I think he’s called.”
“If Karl finds her he’ll…”
“Don’t worry, he won’t find her. She’s quite safe. Charlotte asked me to give you this.” He handed Marion a piece of paper. “It’s her new mobile number. She wants you to give her a ring as soon as you can.”
“Oh, the poor kid, she must be terrified.”
“Charlotte is a very capable young woman, believe me,” Joe said, walking purposefully towards the door.
“Be careful, Joe,” Marion said but he was already out on the street, heading towards his car.
Left alone, Marion picked up the phone and dialled the number Joe had given her.
EIGHTY-FIVE
It was just before eight when Lydia arrived home. Worried by the text she had received from Matthew late the previous evening, she had driven the three hour journey home at speed. As she entered her lounge, Matthew was standing by the window staring out into the garden, his hands thrust deep in his trouser pockets. David was sitting in the armchair smoking.
“Had a good time, dear?” David asked in a tone laced with sarcasm.
Lydia stared at her husband in disgust. He looked different, she thought. He seemed to have aged twenty years in the short time she had been away. His hair was untidy and his clothes dishevelled. She noticed he held a glass of whisky in his hand.
“Welcome home, mother,” Matthew said quietly as he walked over to his mother and gently kissed her on the cheek.
“What’s happened? Your text said it was urgent. Has he lost his job? I thought the hearing wasn’t until next week.”
David gave a harsh laugh. “Go on, Matthew. Tell your mother. I know you’re dying to.” He gulped down the remains of the whisky and reached over to the table to pour another.
“Isn’t it a bit early to get pissed?” Lydia spat. “Even for you?”
“If I want a fucking drink in my own house, I’ll fucking well have one, you stony faced bitch,” he slurred.
Lydia sat down heavily on the couch and turned to her son. “Matthew, what the hell’s going on?”
Matthew sat beside his mother and put his arm around her shoulders. “Mother,” he said softly, “I thought it only right that you should know. Father has a daughter.”
“A daughter? I don’t understand.”
“He has a daughter to a prostitute. Isn’t that right, father?”
“So it would seem. She must be almost twenty now by my reckoning.”
“I met her the other day,” Matthew continued. “Her name is Charlotte and she’s living in Karl Maddox’s house.”
“She’s what? Oh no, I don’t believe this. Tell me it’s not true, David.”
“Matthew seems to think it is. I’ve never met her so I wouldn’t know.”
“Who’s the mother?” Lydia asked, turning to her son. “You say she’s a prostitute? Are you sure?”
“Charlotte told me so herself. She said her mother died when she was a baby. She got adopted by Erica Maddox’s sister who lived in Ireland.”
“David, please tell me this isn’t true. It can’t be true. Even you couldn’t be so cruel.”
“I hope it is true,” David said angrily as he got up from the chair and walked unsteadily over to his wife. “I hope I do have a daughter. A sweet, beautiful girl just like her mother was.”
Lydia rose from the couch and raised her hand to slap David’s face. He grabbed it and roughly pushed her back onto the couch. Matthew bolted forward to shield his mother.
“That’s enough, you leave her alone, you bastard,” he yelled. “Are you alright, mother?”
Tears streamed down Lydia’s face. “Just get that bastard out of my house.”
“Don’t worry, I’m going,” David sneered. “I don’t want to spend another minute in this fucking mausoleum.”
“Get back to your whores where you belong,” Lydia screamed at him. “I’m going to d
ivorce you, David. By the time I’ve finished with you, you’ll have nothing. Nothing, do you understand?”
David staggered out into the hallway and unsteadily made his way upstairs. A few minutes later he came down carrying a holdall.
“I’ll collect the rest of my things later,” he hissed as he opened the front door. “I’m going to find my daughter.”
He slammed the door loudly behind him to the sound of Lydia sobbing uncontrollably.
EIGHTY-SIX
It was just after eight when Erica heard Karl shut the front door noisily and rev up the car’s engine. She waited until he was gone before she dared to venture downstairs. Picking up the telephone, she rang Charlotte’s number but the phone rang unobtainable. Panicking, she rang Joe’s mobile and it was answered almost immediately.
“Erica, I was just about to ring you. Is everything alright over there?”
“No,” Erica sobbed. “Karl’s gone crazy. He’s accusing Charlotte of trying to have the Sapphire burnt down last night. That can’t be true, can it?”
“I’m afraid it is, but don’t worry about Charlotte, she’s quite safe. It’s you I’m concerned about.”
“What do you mean? Please tell me what’s going on, you’re scaring me.”
“Erica, I need you to trust me,” Joe said sternly. “You do trust me, don’t you, darling?”
“Of course I do, you don’t need to ask that.”
“Then please, do exactly as I tell you. I want you to pack a few clothes and your passport. I’m taking you away from Karl forever.”
“Joe, you know I can’t leave him. He’ll…”
“Erica, please just do as I say. Everything will be alright, I promise. Now hurry up, we don’t have much time.”
“Well, alright,” Erica faltered, “if you’re sure, but…”
“When you’re packed, get a taxi to the Belmont Café on Richmond Street, you know the one. I want you to wait for me there, okay?”
“Where are you going? Why don’t you come here and collect me?”
“There’s something I have to deal with first, but I should be with you before ten. Now hurry up and get out of that house as soon as you can.”
“Alright,” Erica said hesitantly. “I’ll see you at ten, and Joe…”
“Yes?”
“I do love you.”
Erica ran upstairs and quickly got showered and dressed before piling clothes into a suitcase. He heart was racing. She couldn’t believe that she was actually going to be leaving Karl after all this time. Walking over to the safe concealed behind a wall mirror, Erica tapped out the combination and its door flung open. She grinned as she remembered how she had watched Karl open it one night when he had been drunk. He thought she had been asleep but she had managed to memorise the numbers. She had been into the safe a few times over the years hoping to find the paperweight Karl had been blackmailing her with, but without success.
Erica had only intended to take her passport and jewellery but she was astounded to see several large bundles of twenty pound notes inside plastic bags. For a few seconds she stared at the money. Grinning, she reached out and placed the bundles into her bag. “You owe me this, you bastard,” she hissed. Removing her wedding ring, she placed it on the bedside table before going downstairs to order a taxi.
EIGHTY-SEVEN
Joe had almost reached the club when his phone rang. It was Karl.
“I’ll be there in ten minutes,” Joe spoke into the receiver.
“Make it five,” Karl snapped. “You and I have things to discuss.”
Karl was in the main club when Joe arrived. He looked angry as he strode menacingly towards him.
“What the fuck were you playing at last night, letting those wankers off scot free? Are you going soft?”
“They didn’t get off scot free. The lads gave them a good kicking. They’ve learnt their lesson, they won’t be back.”
“You shouldn’t have let them go until I’d spoken to them,” Karl screamed almost hysterically. “I need to know why they were targeting my clubs. I need to know exactly what that little bitch Charlotte’s involvement was in it, and I need…”
“What you need to do, Karl, is answer your bloody phone. Si tried to get hold of you half a dozen times last night.”
“I was busy,” Karl answered sulkily. “It’s up to you and Si to take care of things when I’m not around.”
“And that’s exactly what we did, for all the thanks we get. Anyway, I haven’t come here to talk about your poxy clubs.” Joe took out the death certificate from his coat pocket and held it up in front of Karl. “I came here to discuss this.”
Karl stared at the document. Joe could see the colour drain from his cheeks, leaving him looking pale and ashen.
“Where the fuck did you get that?” he demanded, attempting to snatch the paper from Joe’s grasp.
“That doesn’t matter. It says here that Thomas Edward Meadows, that’s Erica’s father, died from multiple stab wounds.”
“So?”
“So, you’ve been bullying Erica all these years by saying that she killed him with a blow to the head.”
Karl stared at Joe, a look of anger and suspicion on his face. “How did you know about that?”
“Erica told me.”
“Did she tell you that her father was a bastard paedophile?” Karl spluttered. “He ruined his first girl and was planning to do the same to her. He had to be stopped.”
“So tell me, what really happened that night Erica asked for your help?”
“It’s got nothing to do with you. That’s between me and Erica.”
“Not any more it isn’t,” Joe said defiantly.
“What do you mean? What has Erica been saying?”
“She said you told her that her father was dead, that she had killed him. But he wasn’t dead, was he, Karl? He was still alive when you dumped him in Coopers Alley. It’s time you started telling the truth about what really happened that night.”
“What does it matter now? The bastard’s dead. He can’t hurt any kid again.”
“Erica thinks she’s responsible. You’ve got to tell her the truth.”
“I don’t have to do anything,” Karl said menacingly. “He’s dead and as far as I’m concerned, that’s an end to it.” He retrieved a cigar from his jacket pocket and lit it. “Has Erica seen that?” he asked, nodding towards the certificate. “Does she know how that bastard died?”
“Not yet, but she will, I promise you that.”
“What’s in this for you anyway? I never had you down as a good Samaritan.”
“Erica has to know the truth. You can’t keep lying to her.”
Karl drew heavily on his cigar and slowly walked over to one of the tables at the far side of the room. He sat down and indicated for Joe to join him.
Joe declined, choosing to stand. “Well? I’m waiting.”
“Alright,” Karl said at last. “I’ll tell you if it’ll shut you up.” He drew heavily on the cigar once more before continuing. “When I went over to the house, Erica was hysterical. She told me what he tried to do to her, and that she had hit him with a paperweight. He was lying on the floor, his head covered in blood. I really did think he was dead. I put him in the boot of my car and drove over to Coopers Alley. I thought if I made it look like a mugging…”
“Yes, I know all this. But what happened next?”
“When I pulled the bastard out of the boot, he started to come round. He began grunting like the pig that he was and managed to stumble to his feet.” Karl put the glass to his lips and drank the contents in one gulp. “Before I realised it, I had the knife in my hand. I don’t know how many times I stabbed him. All I could think about was what he had been planning to do to Erica.” Karl’s breathing became laboured and he was trembling slightly as he continued. “He deserved it, Joe. The bastard deserved to die. You’d have done exactly the same in the circumstances, you know you would.”
“Who knows? Perhaps I would,” Joe sa
id, almost in a whisper. “Maybe he did deserve to die, but I would never let a fourteen year old girl believe she was responsible. I’d never have done that. That was a wicked thing to do.”
Karl leant forward putting his head between his hands. “Yes, I felt bad about that,” he sighed, “but you have to understand I was head over heels in love with Erica. I couldn’t bear it if she left me, and she’d never leave me, not when she thought I knew her dark secret.” He got up from the chair and walked over to the bar, poured himself another drink and returned to the table. “I’ve looked after her over the years. She can have anything she wants, money, clothes, anything.”
“She doesn’t love you,” Joe said sternly. “The poor girl’s terrified of you.”
“Rubbish. You don’t know what you’re talking about. Anyway, what business is it of yours? You’re just the hired help.”
“Erica’s leaving you.”
“Leaving me? What are you talking about? Erica would never leave me.”
“She’s coming with me.”
“Are you out of your fucking mind?”
“Karl, Erica and I have been lovers for years. Once she knows the truth, you’ll have no hold on her anymore.”
Karl sprang to his feet, screaming profanities as he hurled himself at Joe. Both men went crashing to the floor. Joe managed to free himself from Karl’s grip and get to his feet.
“That’s enough,” he yelled. “Erica’s leaving with me and there’s nothing you can do about it.”
“You try and take my wife and I’ll come after you. I’ll find you and I’ll kill you, I’ll kill both of you.”
“I don’t think so,” Joe hissed. “I have a little insurance of my own. Remember Paula?”
“Paula? Who the fuck’s Paula?”
“Surely you haven’t forgotten? Paula’s the girl you stabbed to death in Canal Street.”
“Oh, her? That stupid little bitch tried blackmailing me. She tried to take me for ten grand.”
“That’s a lot of money. What had she got on you?”
“Somehow she’d found out about how Erica’s father had died. She rang me and demanded the money or she would tell Erica and the police.”
Bad Blood Rising Page 26
