The Choice

by KERRY BARNES

  Tears now streamed down her face. What the hell had she got herself into? Where should she go now? She drove aimlessly, trying to think of a safe haven. Just as her heart began to slow down, the news came on the radio. All she heard was the newscaster saying ‘Merrywell Lane has been closed off due to a serious incident at a travellers’ site where a body has been found after firefighters fought to put out a blaze. The incident is being treated as suspicious.’

  Gasping out loud, Jackie momentarily swerved, sending the car careering towards the other side of the road. ‘Jesus, no!’ Torvic’s face and thoughts of what he would do to her, if she’d been responsible for a blaze that had destroyed her caravan and burned alive his precious granddaughter, tore through her mind like a rogue tornado. She mentally recapped how it could have happened, praying that it wasn’t her trailer, because she remembered locking the bloody door. Tiffany would have probably been off her nut on the pills that she’d rammed down her throat. If that was the case, Torvic would be after her; he would kill her and no doubt set her alight.

  * * *

  Staffie had made scores of calls to every man he knew who either owed him or Mike a favour or who would be up for earning a few quid. Mike had put up a two hundred grand bounty on Torvic’s head.

  Neil and Shamus called their men and had them stationed at all of Zara’s restaurants –on standby – if Torvic showed his face.

  Lou Baker was sent to scour the surrounding areas of all the firm’s homes.

  And Eric had been dispatched to make arrangements for their relatives to pack up and get out. He wasn’t too impressed, though, with the fact that he wasn’t in on the discussions; he was only called if there were updates regarding Liam going missing.

  Lance took the next plane to Spain to join Terrence. They couldn’t be 100 per cent sure that Torvic wasn’t the man who’d taken Liam or whether one of his men had. Lance’s fear was for his girls. Although he was the most equipped to track down Torvic, he’d failed the first time around, and so the best place for him was to join forces with Terrence. He had his own contacts in Spain and would use them to find out what had happened to Liam.

  Zara poured Willie another brandy. ‘Here, Willie, drink this, mate. We’ll find him.’

  Sitting crouched over the desk, his face soaked in tears and hidden by his long straggly hair, he peered up and stared at Zara, almost looking through her. As his forehead puckered and his chin trembled, another tear tumbled down his cheeks. ‘Why my boy, eh? Why him?’ he quietly probed.

  That desolate tone in Willie’s voice brought an immediate response. Zara kneeled beside him and stroked his back, only too aware that he could easily push her away again. ‘Willie, I don’t know what to say, except you know we’ll do everything—’

  Unexpectedly, he spun around to face her, holding his arms out to hug her. She gripped him tight, feeling every muscle in his body convulsing as the uncontrollable sobs overpowered him. The moment was heartfelt, and she couldn’t help but cry with him.

  Willie’s cries stopped Mike from making the next call. He watched as his best friend was broken, and he knew how that felt. His arms fell by his side, and he sighed heavily. His past feelings of desolation and grief all came flooding back. The only thing to do was to take over from Zara and hold his mate. Grasping him, as if his arms would somehow protect Willie from the pain, he wanted to cry as well, but, instead, the two of them just rocked each other, united in grief.

  As Zara straightened up, she listened to Staffie. His words were getting harsher as he called all their known associates. ‘Staff!’ she called.

  Staffie had his back to her, and as he turned around, she noticed the anger in his eyes. ‘Make that bounty a million.’

  Staffie held his hand over the phone. ‘Ya what? A million?’

  She nodded. ‘It’s only fucking money, but it will get the bastards crawling out of the woodwork to help.’

  Staffie nodded and continued with his conversation. ‘Mate, we’re just upping the amount to a million for Torvic’s head on a fucking pole.’

  Willie pulled away from Mike, his eyes wide, as he looked at Zara with incredulity. ‘Did ya say a million?’

  Zara nodded with a sad smile. ‘I’ll pay whatever it takes to get your son back. It’s all my fault …’ Her words faltered as the guilt and shame from the consequences of her earlier actions hit home. She struggled not to burst into tears again.

  Willie jumped up and grabbed her by the shoulders. ‘Now, you just forget what I said before. ’Course it ain’t your fault. I was just … Well, you know, babe. I never meant to blame anyone. We’re all in it together. I could’ve walked away … I just can’t fucking get my shit together, though. I should get over to Spain. It’s all the not knowing that’s killing me.’

  Mike felt drained with worry, and the overthinking was bringing him down. His phone rang, which made everyone stop what they were doing and stare at Mike, as he held the phone in his hand. ‘No caller ID.’

  ‘It’s Torvic, I bet. Answer it!’ she urged him.

  ‘Yeah?’ he said coldly to the caller.

  ‘Mr Regan, it’s Lowry from the nick. Listen, where are you?’

  Mike looked at Zara and shook his head. ‘Why d’ya wanna know where I am, Lowry?’

  The detective had taken himself off to an interview room, away from prying ears. ‘Mr Regan, just tell me you’re nowhere near Essex and haven’t been there over the past twenty-four hours.’

  ‘Essex? No, why? Lowry, what the fuck’s going on?’

  ‘I’ve some bad news. Jackie Menaces is your ex-wife, I believe.’

  ‘Yeah, but what about her?’

  ‘Her caravan was burned to the ground, and we believe it’s her body that was locked inside. The investigation team haven’t confirmed it’s hers yet, but the neighbours reckon they saw her just before the fire started.’

  Mike paused, giving himself time to get his thoughts together, while Zara and Willie looked on, anxiously holding their breath.

  ‘Jesus, do you have any idea who did it?’

  Lowry cleared his throat. ‘Well, that’s why I called. I was hoping you could help us … Er, Mr Regan, it wasn’t you, was it?’

  ‘What!’ he screeched. ‘No, it fucking weren’t. She’s me boy’s mother. What the fuck d’ya take me for? I ain’t that sick, mate.’

  ‘No, I didn’t think so, but I just had to ask … Do you have any idea who might have done this?’

  ‘None, Lowry, but she’s pissed a lot of people off. Christ, I don’t have anything to do with the bitch. I ain’t got a clue who she was involved with, but it sure as hell wasn’t me that did it.’

  ‘Do us a favour, Mr Regan. Give me some kind of proof that it wasn’t you, then I’ll get the force off your back.’

  Mike held his hand over the phone and relayed the conversation to Zara. ‘So how can I prove it wasn’t me?’

  Zara looked at the clock on the wall. ‘Ask him what time it happened.’

  Mike removed his hand. ‘Lowry, when did all this happen?’

  ‘About an hour ago.’

  ‘Right, mate, can you do this FaceTime thingy? I can show you where I am, and there is no way I would be here from Jackie’s in an hour. It would take at least an hour and a half with no traffic.’

  Lowry wanted to laugh at Mike’s terminology. ‘Yeah, go for it. I’ll call ya back.’

  Mike ended the call. ‘We’re gonna FaceTime.’

  Lowry called back and could see Regan. ‘Sorry about this, Mr Regan. It’s just I need to eliminate you as your name obviously came up.’

  Zara took the phone and showed Lowry the CCTV footage of the time Mike arrived at her house. It was clear that he couldn’t have been in two places at once.

  ‘Thank you,’ said Lowry, as he smiled to himself.

  Mike then looked at the screen and could see Lowry’s chubby red face, with a slither of mayonnaise still present at the corners of his mouth.

  ‘Will that be all, Lowry?’ />
  ‘Yeah. Listen, I don’t know if you’ve heard, but the Police Commissioner is off on leave for a while, so I’ve taken over for a bit. Is there any news to report back?’

  Mike gave a sigh. ‘Nah, but I’ll keep ya up to date. Cheers, mate. Bye.’

  He returned his phone to the back pocket of his Levi’s and puffed out a large mouthful of air. ‘So that tells me one thing, Willie. Torvic can’t be in two places at once either. If he burned that caravan down an hour ago, he wasn’t in Spain. And, believe me, if it was Jackie that broke him out of the hangar, then he would do away with her. She has too much of a gob on her – or perhaps I should say had?’

  Zara was still trying to absorb the news. She tilted her head and frowned.

  ‘Mikey, I know you hated her for what she did to you and Ricky, but, Christ, she’s been burned alive. Ain’t you bothered … even a bit, or has it not sunk in yet?’

  Staffie and Willie had the same surprised expression as they waited for Mike’s response.

  ‘Don’t fucking look at me like that. I ain’t being heartless. It’s just that I’ve far more serious shit to sort out now. Like your boy, Willie. So that gives us some hope regarding Liam. If Torvic is still here, then Liam may have just gone AWOL or … fuck knows where the kid is.’

  Within a second, the phone rang again. This time, it was Arthur. Mike rolled his eyes, thinking that Eric hadn’t convinced his father to leave the house. ‘All right, Dad?’

  ‘No. Ya mother’s just lost the fucking plot. She’s still ranting and raging. We were all ready to bloody go when Jackie turned up. Ya mother’s gone and—’

  Mike broke in. ‘You what? Did you say Jackie?’

  ‘Yes! Bloody Jackie. Well, anyway, ya mother’s just gone and ripped half the girl’s hair out, and now she’s fuming because I held her back. I thought she was gonna claw me own face an’ all! Fucking hell!’

  ‘Are you sure? I mean, did you actually see Jackie?’

  ‘Son! I may be older than you but I ain’t fucking senile! Yes, Jackie! Whether she’s recognizable now, though, is another matter. Ya mother’s just battered her.’

  Mike rubbed his forehead, trying to digest the information. ‘What did she want?’

  ‘I dunno. She said she had some information for you, but ya mother never let her get the rest of the words out. She propelled Jackie off the doorstep, dragged the girl to the ground, and mauled her …’ His annoyed tone changed to a giggle. ‘I tell you, an alley cat has nothing on ya mother!’

  Mike’s face remained serious, his mind on the ramifications of what Lowry had been telling him. So, while on any other occasion he would have laughed, he was in no mood to do so now.

  ‘Dad, just get Mum in the car and go, will ya? I’ll explain later. I just don’t have time now.’

  Mike returned the phone to his pocket as he looked over at Zara.

  She was pacing the floor, deep in thought. Then something hit her. All the jigsaw pieces that had been tumbling about in her mind were now joining as one.

  ‘You know what’s happened, don’t ya? It ain’t Jackie that’s been burned in that fire. I bet you it’s Torvic’s granddaughter, and I wouldn’t be surprised if Jackie went to your parents to find you and tell you what she’d done. So the question we need to ask ourselves is what does Jackie know? You need to track her down and get the answers, PDQ.’

  Chapter 8

  Liam tried to open his eyes, but the bright white light above his head made it impossible for him. Still partially sedated, he tried again, but his eyelids felt as though he was carrying boulders. Trying to move his arm, he panicked; he couldn’t move at all because he was strapped down. The fear forced the adrenaline around his body and made him want to puke. As soon as he was able to force his eyes open and fight against the bright light, he thought he’d then be able to see where he was. But he couldn’t work it out because he was still blinded by the glare. His throat was sore and extremely dry. It was the smell that hit him; it was a clean, antiseptic odour, one that he recognized, but, for the life of him, he couldn’t fathom where from.

  ‘Help!’ He tried to scream, but the sound that left his mouth was a muffled croak.

  Suddenly, he heard voices and saw shadows. There was more than one person in the room.

  ‘Knock him out!’ came a stern, cold, and yet well-spoken voice.

  ‘No!’ Liam shouted, as he tried to struggle free. Thoughts of torture ripped through his mind and images of being strapped down and mutilated – his limbs cut one by one – made him want to scream. ‘Oh God, no!’ he cried. Silence. The room became fuzzy, and a warm feeling enveloped him. However, he did manage to catch the last few words.

  ‘I am not happy about this at all, though,’ said the man with the stern voice.

  ‘You are in debt. Now, if you don’t do this, it will be you who’s on that table, and we won’t use anaesthetic. Besides, a million in the bank will set you right up,’ replied a deeper, harsh voice.

  So terrified by what he’d just heard, Liam craved sleep. Within a few seconds, his wish was granted: he was out cold.

  * * *

  With Mike on his way to see Jackie’s mother, Gilly, and Staffie taking Willie to the airport, Zara found herself alone. She had pushed Mike to go, insisting she was safe. She had the CCTV that would show any intruders, and her own arsenal. She allowed herself a wry smile. She was an expert in so many defensive disciplines, so she knew she could hold her own against all comers.

  Their considerable resources weren’t infinite. Because both her firm and Mike’s had to track down Liam and get to the bottom of this frightening mess, they didn’t have time to fuss over her safety, which she was pleased about. Her guilt over the whole situation ran deep.

  She checked the CCTV monitors and watched as Mike’s car, followed by Staffie’s, hurtled along the drive and through the entrance. She then pressed the lock button and observed the large, heavy gates automatically close behind them.

  Suddenly, the room became deathly quiet except for the ticking of her father’s grandfather clock. She ran her hand across her chest, feeling her bulletproof vest, and then fingered the gun just inside her belt.

  If Torvic knocked at her door or even peered through a window, she wouldn’t attempt to reason with the man – she would blow his brains out. As her stomach churned, she experienced a hot flush that left her with a nauseous feeling. But without the distraction of Mike, she knew she would be more clear-headed.

  Looking away from the monitors, she allowed her eyes to fall on the empty brandy glasses. Then she looked at the bottle of her father’s special Courvoisier Reserve. Her mind cast back to the day that Torvic mentioned how proud her father was of his vintage spirits and how she assumed he was a dear and close friend of Izzy’s. Something niggled her. She, of course, discovered later that Torvic wasn’t a friend at all but was in fact Izzy’s enemy, so how did he know about her father’s specialized knowledge of liquor? In truth, she assumed there were a few little details that he would only have known had they been friends. Her eyes then glanced around the room. Unless he could actually have seen inside this office, and, more to the point, could hear her conversations, there was no way he could have known.

  She racked her brains, trawling through small snippets of conversation from the past. Her mind went back to all the meetings she’d had with him up to the present. Something then clicked. She remembered that there were moments when he would say to her, ‘From what you told me, Zara.’

  But, she recalled, she hadn’t told him very much – at least not about Izzy’s tastes and views on life – and yet he seemed to know an awful lot about her father.

  Damn! Why had she trusted a complete stranger, all because he’d said he was her father’s close friend? And now a particular conversation did come back to her. Torvic – Victor, he’d said his name was – had brought her back from her father’s jewellery business in his taxi. There’d been a fight earlier. She’d had to sort out two thugs who’d tried to rob
her and ‘Victor’ had got her through the police checkpoint by telling the officer she’d just come out of an operation at King’s College Hospital. She’d even admitted to Torvic what she’d done to one of her attackers. His kindness had sweet-talked her in, and when they’d reached her home, she’d offered him a coffee, and they’d spent quite a while chatting about her life since Izzy’s death. It was then he’d said to her: ‘You trusted me a little too soon. I’d be careful who you trust.’

  And she’d laughed and replied, ‘Oh, Victor, believe me, I’m not silly. The reason I trust you is because I know my father must have been friends with you since only his closest buddies ever came to the house.’

  He’d appeared to know so much about Izzy that she’d had no reason to think otherwise. He’d played her for who she was at the time: a woman clinging to a part of her father’s past.

  Her mind began unravelling how Torvic knew about her relationships and other aspects of her life. Torvic had got into her mind and used small pieces of information to blindside her. He was certainly the arch manipulator. He’d known far too much about the Regans, about how to play Mike and Eric off against her, and yet, up until last night, she’d been just that one step ahead. A cold shiver ran up her spine; her palms became wet with sweat and pins and needles tingled her arms.

  So if Torvic couldn’t see inside her mind, perhaps he could see inside this room, her father’s office? But how could he? As her eyes glided back to the small antique bar and then to the opposite side of the room, she noticed the grandfather clock. Hmm. If he had installed a camera, then he would have been privy to so much. He would know about the hidden compartments where her father had kept the deeds, the bank accounts, and anything of substantial value. But if that was the case, why hadn’t he cleaned her out?

  She tried to retrace where she’d been over the last few weeks. Had the meetings taken place in her office or in the dining room? Had Torvic planted a device before her father’s death or afterwards? Her nerves ran ragged as she tried to remember everything.