DARK JUSTICE: The Erin Dark Series

by Taylor Leon

  Cade hurried straight over to the bar when he saw me and waited while I ordered a glass of white wine.

  ‘You know Lloyd pretty well, don’t you?’ he said nodding ahead.

  I watched him out of the corner of my eye, as he took a swig of beer from the bottle, waiting for me to answer.

  ‘Is that what Arnie told you?’

  He smiled at that. ‘I guess you’re thinking the boss had me in his office, giving me a whole run down on you, huh?’

  ‘Did he?’ I took my drink off the bar and looked him deep in the eyes as I took a sip.

  He didn’t show even a flicker of emotion. He was smooth I had to give him that.

  ‘He spoke very highly of you,’ he said.

  I could believe that. I was a good cop. But I also knew he would have told him more.

  ‘And?’ I asked.

  He shrugged. ‘And nothing.’ He tipped his head back and took another slug of beer, just to make the point that there was nothing more to say on the subject.

  He finished the bottle, placed it back on the bar and motioned for another.

  ‘You sound like you have secrets you’re worried I’ll find out about,’ he said turning to face me. ‘So why don’t you tell me about Erin Dark and filter out the bits you don’t want me to know.’

  He was an attractive guy, and that look he gave me was genuine interest. I’d never had a serious relationship before, just several casual flings and none of them involved anyone from work. If Cade hadn’t been my partner then I may have bent the rules for him on looks alone, just this once. I’d noticed earlier that there was no ring on his finger. But that made no difference, nothing could happen between us, even if he was single.

  ‘That’s a very open question,’ I told him. ‘What do you want to know?’

  He looked up as the barman handed him another bottle of beer.

  ‘Well, I do know your father was a cop. Is that why you joined?’

  I joined because I wanted to find the bastard who killed my mother.

  ‘Something like that,’ I said. ‘I like putting the bad guys away. Next question.’

  He nodded approvingly and leaned back against the bar.

  ‘You have any significant others?’

  I laughed, almost spitting out my wine and a few of our colleagues looked over.

  ‘What’s so funny?’ he asked.

  ‘“Significant others”? No-one says that.’

  He rolled his eyes. ‘Well, do you have any?’

  I watched him for a moment, unsure what answer to give.

  ‘Yes.’

  Now he paused with the bottle at his lips, looking at me quizzically.

  ‘Oh right,’ he said, sounding a little awkward. Was it possible he had hoped I was single as well?

  You’re being an idiot Erin, reading too much into things as usual.

  ‘His name’s Sampson,’ I said.

  ‘How long have you been together?’

  ‘Two and a half years.’

  ‘Does he live with you?’

  ‘Yes, he does.’

  He seemed to be searching for the next question, taking short sips of drink as his mind was buzzing. ‘Where did you two meet?’

  ‘At a pet shop,’ I said, trying not to burst into fits of giggles.

  ‘You were both looking to buy a pet?’

  ‘I was.’

  ‘What was he doing there then? Oh I see, he was doing the selling.’

  ‘No, Sampson is my pet. He’s a schnoodle,’ I said it so deadpan that Cade paused, waiting for a wink or a smile to re-assure him he’d heard correctly.

  When I did give him the smile he needed, he laughed and clinked his bottle against my glass.

  ‘You got me there,’ he said.

  ‘How about you?’ I asked, outwardly sounding a little more confident with the question than I felt. What was the matter with me? I had never ever felt this way about anyone from work before.

  ‘Recently divorced,’ he said. ‘One young boy. Sean.’

  We were interrupted by a slightly drunk Arnie and Lloyd Tanner.

  ‘Ah, the man of the moment,’ Cade said, saluting Lloyd with his bottle.

  ‘I don’t believe we’ve met,’ Lloyd said.

  ‘This is Detective Inspector John Cade,’ Arnie explained to him. ‘He joined us this morning.’

  Lloyd nodded at Cade, then looked at me, then looked back at Cade.

  ‘So you’re Erin’s new partner,’ he said.

  He stepped forward towards Cade. Well, it was almost a stumble, but he had Arnie clutching his upper arm to prevent him from falling flat on his face. He placed a fatherly hand on Cade’s shoulder.

  ‘This young lady means the world to me,’ he said. ‘And her father was an old friend, so you make sure you’ve got her back.’

  ‘I will,’ Cade said. I think he meant it as well.

  Lloyd turned back to me.

  ‘And how is Erin?’ he asked.

  ‘Erin’s just fine,’ I said and leaned forward, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek.

  His voice dropped. ‘You ask your father to give me a call,’ he said. ‘I haven’t seen him in months and now I’ll have more time.’

  ‘I’ll do that.’

  ‘And maybe then you can both come over for dinner. Angel would love to see you before she starts college.’

  Arnie leaned in. ‘Lloyd, can I borrow Erin for one moment?’

  ‘Of course, of course.’

  He stepped away and Arnie motioned towards Cade, who was chatting out of earshot.

  ‘I’m sorry we didn’t get a chance to do the proper introductions this morning,’ Arnie said. ‘How are you finding him?’

  I shrugged. ‘Early days, but he seems okay. What’s his background?’

  ‘He’s just been made up to Detective Inspector,’ Arnie said. ‘Comes highly recommended. His team wanted to keep him, but a better spread of resources was needed.’ He looked over my shoulder. ‘I think you two will be good together.’

  Everyone stopped talking as someone called for quiet and Lloyd took centre stage in the room to give a quick leaving speech. I only half listened. I kept glancing over at my new partner, who was now standing with a small group on the other side of the bar.

  At one point our eyes met like a bad cliché.

  And I heard Arnie’s voice in my head, telling me once again: I think you two will be good together.

  9

  THE OLD MAN was a verbal magician. The small crowd around him hung onto his every word.

  Six weeks to go, he told them. Six weeks to make a real difference. Use your vote. Make it count. It’s time to be proud to be British. To care about your country and your culture.

  Wayne Young had heard similar speeches from him hundreds of times over the years, but he was still moved. The Old Man was a master-class in oratory. Here in the small village square, standing on his small box with two burly looking bouncers on either side, he cast his spell over them all.

  Wayne watched for a few more minutes, then climbed out of his car and leaned against the side. He lit up a cigarette and watched the Old Man as he wrapped up.

  People stepped forward to pat his back, shake his hand. You’re no racist, they said. You’re one of us. A people’s politician.

  A people’s politician, Wayne thought. I like that. The left wing press called him ‘dangerous’, the right wing press, ‘a champion.’ Truth was he wanted his country back, away from all the outsiders who had come in, and were destroying the British culture.

  British culture, what does that even mean anymore? Wayne thought.

  The Old Man looked across and gave him a small nod, as he shook hands with a few more supporters. He was a big bear of a guy. With his piercing blue eyes, shaven tanned head and huge barrel chest, he was a large imposing figure, almost Presidential in his dark suit and crisp white shirt.

  Once he finished up, he crossed the green away from the crowd towards the waiting car, his two security guys and PA Sand
ra Buckingham a tall, striking brunette, in tow.

  Wayne dropped his cigarette and stubbed it out with his heel before he followed them.

  ‘Norris, over here!’ A large voice boomed from the opposite side of the road.

  The Old Man and his security detail snapped to the left.

  Wayne instinctively felt for the knife he always carried on him in the waistband of his jeans.

  There was a black guy, mid to late forties, slim with a tight salt and pepper afro, standing alone and pointing at the Old Man.

  ‘It’s okay boys,’ the Old Man said. ‘I’ve got this.’

  ‘Anthony,’ his PA warned.

  ‘It’s fine Sandra,’ he said. He glanced around quickly to double check there were no press or cameras around. He shook his head at Wayne, who in turn took a couple of paces back, letting the scene play itself out.

  ‘What do you want Duke?’ The Old Man called back.

  Duke Best, Wayne thought. I remember him now.

  ‘You know what I want Norris. The same thing I’ve always wanted. Justice.’ He crossed the street and eyeballed the Old Man, ignoring his security and PA on either side.

  ‘Don’t start that again,’ Norris growled.

  ‘I’ll never give up. You know that don’t you?’

  ‘You don’t let me forget.’

  ‘And I’m going to keep reminding you, until you get your comeuppance.’

  Wayne knew how badly the Old Man would want to strike this bastard down, beat the shit out of him. But he wouldn’t. Not now. There was a time, a long time ago, when he wouldn’t have given it a second thought. But things were different today. He was a politician. A people’s politician. He demanded respectability. He needed respectability.

  ‘The NID was responsible for the deaths of your wife and son, the perpetrators were caught, trialled and imprisoned,’ the Old Man said. ‘Case closed.’

  ‘You led the NID. You gave the orders.’

  ‘I lead the One Identity Party. We’re a political party standing for election.’

  ‘Just two sides of the same coin. I just came here to tell you that it’s over, Norris.’

  The Old Man sighed. He looked at the two security on either side of him. ‘I’ve had enough of this.’ He turned his back on Duke Best.

  Duke Best said to the back of his head. ‘I’m going public. You’re finished. I just wanted to make sure you knew it was me.’

  The two large security guys each grabbed Duke under a shoulder and started pulling him back across the road, even as he carried on calling. ‘I’ve got names, Norris! People who will talk. I’m coming after you. I’m bringing you down.’

  Wayne looked around. There was an elderly couple across the street who were watching the scene unfold. Some kid riding through on his bike. The crowd behind them had now largely dispersed and was out of earshot. It could have been a lot worse, but the Old Man was still going to be really pissed.

  Wayne walked over to him and watched as the two heavies deposited Duke back onto the pavement, dropping him so he landed on his knees. They made a show of dusting their hands as they crossed back over to the waiting car.

  ‘Doesn’t give up, does he?’ Wayne said.

  The Old Man smiled weakly. ‘That’s probably the only thing I admire about him. His persistence.’

  ‘Anthony, we’ve got to go,’ Sandra said. She deliberately ignored Wayne. He used to think it was because of how he looked. A lot of people found his pale pockmarked face and large brown eyes ugly, unnerving even. But now he’d got to thinking it was more because of what he represented. The invisible part of the organisation the Old Man used to run, never discussed with Sandra, never acknowledged. He was the reminder of what her boss was. He was the link with the Old Man’s past, a bond between the two men forged over many years. Motives and actions may have been airbrushed from the history books, but there were some things that would always remain.

  ‘Wait in the car Sandra, I just need a moment with him,’ the Old Man said.

  ‘Anthony, let’s just go, we shouldn’t be talking like this in the street-’

  ‘Get in the car,’ the Old Man growled.

  She gave him a fierce look then spun on her high heels and climbed into the BMW. One of the security men walked around to get in the driver’s seat, the other stood straight and waited for his master.

  ‘We can’t be seen together like this,’ the Old Man said. ‘You can’t be seen at all.’

  ‘I see you’re still wearing a suit and charming people.’

  The Old Man said, ‘I have a real chance of winning a seat here.’

  ‘So you get a seat, what then?’

  ‘Power. Influence,’ the Old Man said, ‘Different means to the same ends.’

  ‘Times may change, but people don’t. You don’t.’

  The Old Man sighed. ‘I saw the news earlier. Was it really necessary to kill the boy as well?’

  ‘Eye for an eye.’

  ‘I know how much Mark meant to you...’ Letting the sentence hang the Old Man turned and looked Wayne right in the eyes, placing a hand on his shoulder. Wayne felt his compassion. Only the Old Man really knew the pain and agony he’d felt for the last five years. He was the only one he’d let in to see, how he’d almost ended it all back then. The Old Man had saved him. The creature he’d created had brought him back from the edge.

  ‘Do you really need to do all this though?’ the Old Man added. ‘The risks are so high and for what, revenge?’

  ‘I swore I would punish them,’ Wayne said.

  The Old Man nodded. He could see the steely determination in his friend’s eyes.

  ‘And then?’ he said.

  ‘I finish what Mark started. What we started.’

  ‘Are you going to tell me how?’

  Wayne shook his head. ‘No, it’s best you don’t know.’

  ‘Don’t you trust me?’

  Wayne looked into his old friends deep blue eyes. ‘It’s not a question of trust. I trust you with my life.’

  ‘So?’

  ‘Times have changed. Isn’t that what you said?’

  ‘“People don’t”, that’s what you said.’

  Norris looked over into the back of his car. Wayne followed his gaze. Carly Jones, his thin waif like girlfriend and thirty years his junior, looked uncertainly at them from the back seat.

  ‘You think she’s good or bad for your image?’ Wayne said.

  The Old Man turned back and narrowed his eyes. ‘She’s neither. She just makes me feel good.’

  ‘Kane said something to me,’ Wayne said, changing the subject, his voice suddenly all serious. ‘He told me they already knew about Mark and George before he turned.’

  ‘Who knew?’

  ‘The police.’

  ‘That’s not possible. It was Kane who gave them up,’ the Old Man said.

  ‘He said he just gave them names of baggage handlers. Nothing high profile. Not Mark. Not George. He didn’t even know they carried out the bombings.’

  The Old Man shook his head. ‘You believe him?’

  Wayne shrugged. ‘I had a gun to his son’s head, so he would have said just about anything, but…’

  ‘But you’re not sure?’ The Old Man looked whimsically into the middle distance and the retreating figure of Duke Best.

  ‘Now I’m thinking Hugo Marr,’ Wayne said.

  ‘Hugo Marr,’ The Old Man repeated. He looked down at the ground contemplating the possibility.

  ‘You know he went to ground soon after Mark was killed?’ Wayne said. ‘Disappeared right off the radar.’

  ‘He wasn’t the only one.’

  ‘I know, I know. But remember what Denny said when he came out. He’d heard rumours inside….’

  ‘Hugo Marr,’ the Old Man thought hard. He thrust his hands deep into his pockets. When he looked back up there was genuine sorrow in his eyes. ‘If it is him then what do you want to do about it?’

  Wayne didn’t reply, just stared back impassively a
nd watched the Old Man ponder.

  Wayne had always hated Hugo Marr. His arrogance. His money. His lack of purpose. He sold his weapons to whoever was willing to pay. No cause was too small. No target out of bounds.

  The Old Man hated him as well. Hugo Marr had insulted him, laughed at him. Told him he was finished. Wayne knew the Old Man bore grudges. He knew the Old Man couldn’t have changed that much.

  They had both used Hugo Marr in the past because he served a purpose and because he provided a service. But five years on, there were others that could be brought in for forward business. New kids on the block. Hugo Marr wasn’t indispensable anymore.

  ‘We need to set up a meeting,’ the Old Man said eventually. ‘You need to look at the whites of his eyes, then pass judgment.’

  ‘I need some things from him first,’ Wayne said. ‘Maybe make that the reason to meet.’

  ‘What things?’

  ‘Hugo Marr things.’

  The Old Man nodded, understanding what that meant. He turned towards the car door that was being held open for him, then checked himself before climbing in. He looked back over his shoulder at Wayne. ‘I do understand, you know.’

  ‘That this is for Mark?’ Wayne said.

  The Old Man smiled. ‘For Mark.’

  10

  ‘ANOTHER BLANK,’ Cade said to me when he came off the mobile.

  We were sitting in his car outside his son’s nursery. Cade needed to pick him up in a couple of minutes, and he was just making calls while we waited, trying to trace other ex-NID members.

  ‘Looks like Arnie was right,’ I said. ‘All the surveillance just got moved onto something else.’

  He glanced at his watch. ‘You didn’t need to come out here,’ he said.

  ‘It’s no problem,’ I said. ‘Besides, I’d like to meet your son.’

  He smiled warmly. ‘I’ll be right back,’ he said and climbed out.

  The green and white sign across the road outside the semi-detached house declared, NANCY’S NURSERY, and beneath the lettering were childish-drawn stick-figures of kids…one kicking a ball, one running, and another…. Well, I couldn’t really make out what that one was doing.