by Emma Tallon
When the address came up in Fraser’s search, he had known at once that it was Michael. The profiler’s words had crept back into his head. Humans are creatures of habit. Psychopaths are drawn back to places they know and that logically assist their needs. Michael was a fully fledged psychopath – this much they knew from the last mess they’d had to clean up. Freddie kicked himself for not allowing him to be locked away then. He’d sent him off under a new identity to South America with a new name and passport for a fresh start. He’d thought Michael could start again, that maybe the change would help him get better. But this had just been wishful thinking. This wasn’t an illness; this was just who he was. Dark, angry and empty to his very core.
Michael growled and shook his head as though trying to get something out of it. ‘No, no, I told them to stay off the cameras. Idiots!’ he shouted. ‘You have to do everything yourself.’ He pressed the knife harder against Anna’s throat and a trickle of blood made its way down her neck as the tip pierced her flesh. She whimpered and bit her lip.
‘Michael…’ Freddie’s eyes darted wildly from Anna to his brother and he stepped forward slightly, his hands rising up in the air. ‘You don’t want to hurt her. She’s your family.’
‘Pah! Family!’ Michael laughed without humour. ‘You didn’t think much of your family the night you faked my death and shipped me off in disgrace, did you? No pride for your family then, was there? Oh no, you let the world think I was dead. No longer a Tyler. Ousted from the family business. Well, it’s my business too – you don’t get to do that.’
‘He was saving your life, Michael.’ Paul walked into the middle of the open hallway where Freddie and Seamus stood staring up at Michael and Anna on the stairs. Misery was etched on his face as he looked up to his little brother. ‘You fucked up. Freddie was just trying to keep you alive. Hargreaves wanted you dead.’
‘Then we should have killed him,’ Michael yelled, his voice shaking with emotion. ‘You should have taken him out like you take out every other threat to the Tylers.’
‘He’s the Secretary of State for Justice, Michael – you can’t just take him out,’ Freddie exclaimed. ‘And aside from that, you kidnapped and tortured his daughter, an innocent girl who had nothing to do with anything. There are rules in this life that have to be adhered to and you broke them. I did the best I could, gave you a chance to start again.’
‘Start again?’ Michael narrowed his eyes. ‘I went from being a baron of the underworld to some nobody in a country I didn’t want to be in. Stop acting like you were being a brother and just admit the truth. You wanted me gone so you could have this all to yourself. And you, Paul’ – Michael turned to his other brother – ‘you could have stepped in but you didn’t. You just blindly follow him like some fucking sheep,’ he spat.
Paul shook his head and fought back a wave of grief. He had loved his little brother all his life. Losing him last year had been like losing a limb, but like Freddie he had known it was the best they could do for him in the circumstances. His voice wavered as he replied. ‘We wanted you back here more than you can ever know. What we did, we did for you. To find out now that this, all this’ – he held his arms out helplessly – ‘is you… How could you, Michael? How could you do this to us? We’re your family.’
‘You ain’t my family. But this is my business and I’m here to take it back. You’re going to live the rest of your days in a fucking cell, whilst I take back what you took from me. And I’ll take a little more to boot.’ Michael turned to look at Anna and a manic smile crept across his face. He leaned into her hair and took a long, loud sniff, his eyes on Freddie, daring him to protest. ‘We’ve got a bright future ahead of us. Isn’t that right— Argh!’
As he reached the last three steps Anna faked a fall, slipping down and back against Michael rather than pulling away against the knife. Her ploy worked and he pulled the knife away for just a second, long enough for her to turn around and pull the gun out of the waistband of her leggings.
She cocked the trigger and pressed it against Michael’s forehead at the same time that he grabbed her arm and pressed the knife back to her throat.
Tom peered out from the side of the hedge and watched as Sammy raised his hands to his head in despair. He held his breath and tensed his body, ready to run to the next hiding place. He had been moving from spot to spot as silently as he could. It was the one advantage he had, that he knew the site inside out and Sammy didn’t. Tom knew he couldn’t outrun Sammy and that he had a gun, so he decided to lay low and keep moving until the other man gave up. It looked as though Sammy had reached that point now, as with a slump of the shoulders he marched off back into the house.
Waiting another couple of minutes in case it was just a ruse to flush him out, Tom squinted at the dark doorway, trying to see if Sammy was still there. He didn’t appear to be.
As quietly as he could and keeping low to the ground, Tom ran around the back of the house to the stables. Skirting round the side he made his way into the small space between the rear wall and the overgrown boundary fence, then glanced over his shoulder one more time to make sure he was still alone.
He crouched down by a wooden panel in the back wall and pulled up one of the slats. It moved easily and silently. He reached in with his arm and rooted around. After a couple of seconds he made contact with the rough material of the gym bag.
‘Bingo,’ he whispered. He pulled it out and unzipped it for a quick look. There was still a decent amount of money left in there: Freddie’s money that Michael had taken from the bank. The keys for the bike were there too, attached to the ring on the zip. He pulled these off.
Michael didn’t know that Tom had seen him sneak behind here a couple of times. He’d decided to check it out and had found the little hidey-hole and the motorbike. It was clearly Michael’s getaway should things go wrong, his Plan B. Except he hadn’t had time to utilise this, it seemed.
Not one to pass on an opportunity, Tom figured he might as well take it for himself. It wasn’t like Michael was going to need it. He shrugged the bag onto his shoulder and pushed the motorbike out from behind the stables. Warily checking that Sammy hadn’t come back out, Tom rolled it forward onto the track and mounted the sleek vehicle. He pushed in the keys, twisted them and the bike roared to life.
With one last fearful glance at the house he pushed down on the throttle and set off as fast as he dared on the rocky ground. He shot around the side of the house and straightened up as he set off down the long drive.
He prayed that no one was behind him about to shoot. He crouched down and pressed harder on the accelerator. Beads of sweat formed on his lip. Anxiety pierced his heart and sent it hammering against his chest. He waited for the shot to come, to knock him off his bike, but it never came. He reached the end of the driveway and veered out onto the main road.
He’d done it – he’d got out! Tom celebrated in his head as his heart began to slow back down. His joy was swiftly dampened though as he thought about what this now meant. He was now on the run. He would have no choice but to live in exile. There would be no returning to his life. His home, all his friends, his family… he couldn’t go near any of them anymore.
Tom sped down the country roads, a million thoughts running through his head. It was all Freddie and Tanya’s fault. If they had just treated him with a little respect, he would never have gone to work for Michael in the first place.
Now what was he going to do? He had to do something to change this situation; he couldn’t live like an escaped convict forever. His lips formed a hard line. For now he had his freedom. He had freedom and money and as much time as he needed to come up with a plan to sort this all out. And he would sort this out. He refused to lose this time, no matter what it took to win.
His eyes glinted in the dark as a sudden idea hit him. As the smile slowly curled across his face, Tom slowed down and changed course. The enemy of my enemy is my friend, he thought darkly. And it’s definitely time to make a new friend.
Michael laughed in Anna’s face, a loud, manic laugh, but Anna stayed deadly still. Freddie didn’t move, scared he might tip Michael over the edge. ‘Oh, you found my gun, did you? Nice try, sweetheart,’ he mocked, ‘but I don’t keep it loaded. First rule of firearm safety.’
‘I know you don’t. I checked,’ Anna replied, her voice shaking slightly.
‘So what, you thought I’d just forget and I’d hold my hands up and let you ride off into the sunset?’ Michael snorted. ‘Not much of a plan.’
‘No, that wouldn’t be much of a plan, I agree. Which is why I searched until I found the bullets. Third drawer down in the dresser, opposite the desk,’ Anna said, her voice growing stronger. She pushed the gun harder into Michael’s head and he blinked, hesitating. ‘My plan was a little different. You see, I probably would have just walked away, left you to the police to rot in some mental asylum, but we’re beyond that now. You finally pushed me over the edge this morning when you shot my best friend and caused me to miscarry my child. Mine and Freddie’s. Our blood,’ she shouted.
‘Oh my God…’ Freddie gasped, looking down at the blood around Anna’s feet for the first time. Fury and pain filled his face and he started forward. ‘You son of a bitch!’
‘Not another step,’ Michael growled, tightening his hold on Anna’s arm.
Freddie stopped and gave a roar of frustration. He looked up at the two people in front of him and for a minute the crazed madman holding Anna at knifepoint transformed into the happy little boy Freddie had known and loved. An image of Michael at six years of age flashed into his head. He was laughing and running round the garden, innocence and happiness radiating from his smile. A wasp stung his hand and he ran to Freddie, crying.
It’s OK, mate. Come here – let me take a look. Freddie had sucked out the sting and wiped the tears from his eyes. Such a brave boy. Do you want an ice cream?
Yes, please, Freddie! You’re the best!
The little voice echoed off back into the dark corner of his most treasured memories. He felt his heart die a little as he realised that the man in front of him now was no longer the boy he’d helped his mother raise. He wasn’t even the man Freddie had loved a year ago. He was nothing but a monster, wearing his brother’s skin. Because the brother he had known and loved would never have done any of this.
‘You broke into our home, you stole from us and tried to set your own brother up with the police. You kidnapped me and shot my best friend. You’ve killed our baby,’ Anna’s voice broke, ‘spilt our blood without a second thought. Now I want nothing more than to return the favour,’ she said with naked hatred in her eyes. ‘But that’s not my call to make.’ She tilted her head towards Freddie but didn’t take her eyes off Michael. ‘It has to be yours, Freddie.’
Freddie took a deep breath and looked at Paul. He could see the grief on his brother’s face but as he asked the silent question, Paul nodded his agreement. They both knew this could only end one way now. No matter how they felt, Michael had crossed too many lines for even blood to save him.
‘Finish him,’ Freddie said, his voice ragged, but resolute. ‘Pull the fucking trigger.’
‘You’d kill your own brother, Freddie? You couldn’t manage it last time, could you? No, you know she hasn’t got it in her,’ Michael taunted. ‘She’s no killer. She’s not built like you and me.’ He laughed.
Anna narrowed her eyes, coldly ‘Some women burn in the fire, Michael, and some women are born from it.’ She saw fear in his eyes as he suddenly realised that she did have it in her. He opened his mouth to try and stop her but he was too late.
The sound of the gunshot reverberated around the house and Michael’s body crumpled to the ground, lifeless.
‘Anna,’ Freddie cried out as she fell to the floor. He ran over and grasped at her neck, terrified that Michael might have still managed to slice it. He nearly cried in relief when he found it still intact. ‘Thank God.’ He held her shaking body to him as she wept in shock and relief. Sammy and Seamus quickly ran upstairs past Michael’s body to check that there was nobody else in the house.
‘Freddie, the baby…’ Anna’s face crumpled as she tried to tell him.
‘I know. It’s OK…’ He looked down and felt anguish spear his heart. He’d wanted this baby from the second Tanya had told him. But it wasn’t meant to be. ‘It’s going to be OK,’ he soothed.
‘It’s not – the baby’s gone,’ she replied, her cries bitter.
‘I know.’ He held her, knowing that nothing he could say would make it better. ‘Listen, we need to get you to a hospital. Come on, can you walk?’
‘Yes,’ she replied, letting him help her up. She stared down at what was left of Michael. ‘I’m so sorry, Freddie…’
‘It was the only way,’ Freddie admitted. He swallowed down the grief that threatened to spill over. Right now he had to look after Anna. He would mourn Michael later. ‘We’ll deal with all this together, don’t worry.’
Anna grabbed Freddie’s hand as he looped his arm around her waist and they walked slowly out to the car.
EPILOGUE
Anna walked through the hospital hallway holding a bunch of pretty peach roses. They were Tanya’s favourite.
Tanya had been in a bad way when Bill had dropped her off at the hospital and although she had been stabilised, she was still in a coma. The doctors had said there was a fifty-fifty chance she would wake from it and if she did there was a chance she would have to learn to use some of her motor functions all over again. Anna vowed to be with her every day until she came back to them again. So far it had been three weeks and there was still no sign of her coming round. No one dared to suggest to Anna that Tanya might not wake up. It wasn’t something she was prepared to hear.
After a brief hospital stay to make sure no further damage had come of her miscarriage, Anna was home and back to looking after the businesses – although with much more help from Carl. He had insisted on taking on more responsibility after watching Tanya drive herself into the ground trying to run things without Anna.
Placing the wilted flowers that had adorned the vase before in the bin, Anna arranged the new ones and filled it up with fresh water. She placed it on the table beside Tanya and sat in the chair next to it. She picked up her friend’s limp hand and held it between both of her own. Reaching up she pushed a loose strand of Tanya’s thick wavy hair off her peaceful pale face.
Anna swallowed. ‘Carl’s got some new cocktails for you to try.’ She tried to lift her voice to sound positive, but it sounded forced even to her own ears. ‘He says I’m no good as a taster as I only like certain things, whereas you’ – she forced a laugh – ‘well, we all know you’ll drink anything.’
The slow constant beeps of the heart monitor filled the silence as Anna continued to squeeze Tanya’s hand.
‘And you know, Drew has been asking about you. He’s been quite helpful, actually, in assisting with the comedy club. You know, when he’s not doing his acts.’
Anna stared at the tubes that seemed to run in and out of her friend at every possible point and tears filled her eyes.
‘Come on, Tanya. I need you to wake up. I need you here with me. Please.’ She laid her head down on her friend’s chest and cried.
After getting the girls the medical care they needed, Freddie and his men had gone back to the farm and spent some time arranging the fresh bodies into a position that looked as though they’d had an internal disagreement and all killed each other. They were careful with Fraser’s body, to show that he had been trying to help, the hero of the hour. It may have looked suspicious to a trained eye, but they left it with no trace that any of the rest of them had been there.
It had hit the news a couple of days later after Freddie had given the police an anonymous tip-off. Michael had been reported as Steven Munroe rather than Michael Tyler, after the police found his passport. They had no reason to suspect it was a fake. Freddie was glad, as they had decided as a family to keep the truth from Moll
ie and allow her to carry on thinking he was living a good life in South America. There was no point hurting her any more than was necessary.
Tom had not been seen since he had escaped from the farmhouse. Freddie had sent out searches but so far he hadn’t come up on any radar. He was certain that it would only be a matter of time though and when Tom was found, he was going to be made to pay for what he’d done.
Freddie sat at his desk in Club CoCo and stared sadly at the picture of himself with his two brothers when they were younger. Even though there had been no other way, Michael’s death would always weigh heavily on his heart.
There was a brief knock and the door opened. He slipped the photo away into the top drawer of his desk. Paul walked in and sat down opposite Freddie with a tired half-smile.
‘Alright, mate?’ Freddie greeted his brother fondly.
‘Yeah, I’m OK. Just got back from seeing Sammy.’ He rubbed the bridge of his nose. ‘We may have a problem.’
‘What sort of problem?’ Freddie asked with a frown.
‘Well, apparently one of his contacts has called to give us a heads-up. The Five Families want to know what happened to Frank Gambino. All they know so far is that he came to London, met with a few people – ourselves included – and then he disappeared. Joe Luciano is coming over with a bunch of his men. They want answers and apparently they’re starting with us.’
Freddie took a long deep breath. ‘Well, let’s get to work then brother. There’s a lot to be done.’
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