Choked

by Tania Carver

  ‘Not surprised after what she’d been through.’

  ‘No. And apparently she was never the same afterwards. Had to live as a recluse. But I’ve found something else, too. Some kind of weird sex parties.’

  Anni smiled. ‘How weird?’

  ‘Get your mind out of the gutter, Hepburn. I don’t know. But Watts and Hibbert alluded to them. In fact they were supposed to have been part of them. Rumour was that Watts and Dee Sloane had something going and the brother didn’t like it. Then something else happened. Remember that case a few years ago? Dead cockle pickers at Wrabness?’

  ‘Yeah. Migrant workers. Left out when the tide came in. Big court case.’

  ‘Yeah, huge. And it was the Sloanes. It could have broken them. But they got away with it.’

  ‘How?’

  ‘Witnesses retracted their stories, a couple even disappeared. No evidence of negligence. Death by misadventure. The Sloanes got off as lightly as possible. They started to diversify their business interests shortly after that.’

  Anni screwed up her crisp packet, threw it in the bin. ‘Not people to mess with.’

  ‘Nope. And apparently a few of their business rivals have disappeared after dealing with them too.’

  ‘You mean gone out of business?’

  ‘No. I mean disappeared. Without a trace. Investigations took place … ’ He shrugged. ‘Nothing. Like they’d vanished off the face of the earth. Sloanes completely untouchable.’

  ‘Jesus. So where does Stuart Sloane fit in? Is he after revenge too?’

  ‘God knows.’ Mickey took his phone out. ‘I’ll give Jessie a call. She might have discovered something. She’s been working this case too.’

  ‘Don’t you think she would have contacted us if she had?’

  ‘Maybe.’ Mickey smiled. ‘Maybe she’s scared of you. Doesn’t want to call in case you answer.’

  ‘Maybe she fancies me,’ said Anni.

  ‘Maybe.’

  ‘And you can take that look off your face as well, Philips,’ she said, laughing.

  Mickey dialled the number.

  82

  Tyrell watched as Amy ended the call and put the phone away in her jeans pocket. Her shoulders slumped, her eyes stayed downcast on the floor. She didn’t look good.

  The whole situation didn’t look good.

  Tyrell glanced at Josephina, back to Amy. The woman shook her head. ‘We’ve been set up,’ she said.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Little Josephina’s mummy doesn’t want her back as much as she said.’

  Tyrell was confused. ‘I don’t … ’ He looked at Amy, searching her face for answers. He read familiar emotions in her eyes. Anger. Madness. But he saw something new, something he hadn’t yet seen there. Despair. And somehow he found that more distressing.

  The crowd on the bales were still looking in the other direction, still screaming. He stood behind them at the back wall, between two hay bale seating areas, feeling like the still point in a raging storm. The calm eye.

  But he was anything but calm. His heart was racing, panic threatening to overwhelm him. He could see Josephina’s mother beside the ring, a mass of people between them. She looked distraught. Josephina was straining, desperate, crying to be free, to go and see her. Her cries were lost in the screaming crowd. He looked again at Amy. She had gone back into herself, unmoving.

  ‘What … what did she say?’

  Amy didn’t reply. Didn’t even acknowledge that she had heard.

  Must be the noise, thought Tyrell. He tried again, louder.

  ‘What did she say? What’s happening now?’

  ‘She’s betrayed us,’ said Amy. It sounded like the voice of a dead person.

  Tyrell shivered. ‘What? What d’you mean?’

  Amy turned to him. Her eyes too were like those of a dead person. ‘She told someone else. And they’re coming for us. They’re going to take you away. And me.’

  From the way she was speaking, Tyrell thought he was expected to feel shocked or angry. But all he felt was relief. They could take him away. Put him back in prison. And he could rest.

  ‘But I’m not going to let her win. And I’m not going to let him win either … ’

  ‘What d’you mean? Who are you talking about?’

  ‘The kid’s no good to us now.’

  ‘So we can let her go?’

  Another sigh from Amy. She looked him straight in the eye. And what he saw there scared him. ‘Don’t be stupid. No. We kill her. Now.’

  83

  ‘Oh thank God,’ said Helen, her heart rate slowing, hand clutching her chest. ‘It’s you.’

  Dee smiled. ‘Who else were you expecting?’

  Helen managed a small, tight laugh. ‘I don’t know. It’s just … ’ She looked round, gestured at the piled-up boats. ‘You know. Scary. Never know who could be hanging around in there.’

  Dee’s smile didn’t waver. ‘You’re right. You don’t.’

  Helen gave another laugh, stood there regaining her breath. ‘So,’ she said, ‘are we off?’

  ‘Have you got everything you need?’

  Helen pointed to her suitcase. ‘Everything in here. For now.’

  ‘You didn’t tell anyone that you were coming here, that you were meeting me?’

  ‘No. I told you I wouldn’t.’

  ‘And you weren’t followed?’

  A mental image of the two police officers flashed briefly into her head. She discounted it. No. There had been no one following her. She had checked. ‘No. Just me.’

  ‘Good.’

  ‘Have you got … ’ Helen paused, not wanting to appear mercenary, ‘the money?’

  ‘Everything’s sorted,’ Dee said. Then she nodded, as if deep in thought, as if reaching a conclusion about something. ‘Yes. Everything’s sorted.’

  Helen smiled. ‘Great. Let’s go.’

  Dee placed a hand on Helen’s arm. There was power in the grip. Heavy restraint.

  ‘Ow, that hurt. What are you … ?’

  Helen’s sentence remained unfinished. Behind Dee, from further in the piles of stacked boats, a shadow detached itself. A huge shadow. It came slowly towards Helen, appeared in the street light. It was a man, one of the biggest she had ever seen. Hulking, grey-skinned. Arms wrapped in dirty, bloodied bandages. His eyes caught the light. Glittered, dancing to a demented tune Helen hoped she would never hear.

  He moved slowly towards her.

  ‘You’re right,’ said Dee, cruel laughter undercutting her words. ‘You never know who’s hanging around in here … ’

  84

  Jessie and Deepak were out of the car and making their way towards the piled-up fishing boats when they heard the scream.

  ‘Come on,’ said Jessie.

  Deepak was already running. Across the grass, down the path. Keeping out of sight of the main walkway, making sure he couldn’t be seen. He reached the side of the stacked boats. Began to edge his way cautiously and silently but quickly along to the lit path, keeping hidden as he went.

  Jessie caught up with him, joined him. Together they reached the corner.

  Another scream, muffled this time, forcibly restrained.

  They shared a glance. Deepak nodded.

  They were both poised, ready to rush forward.

  Jessie returned Deepak’s nod.

  Ready to spring forward, surprise whoever was there.

  Then her phone rang.

  85

  Tyrell looked down at Josephina. Saw her round, tear-filled eyes staring back up at him. No, he thought. I’m better than that. ‘I’m not a killer,’ he said aloud. ‘I don’t care what they say, I’m not a killer … ’

  His mind slipped back. He couldn’t help it; he was so stressed, it just happened. He was back in the house, back in that room. On that day. With that shotgun cradled in his arm.

  He remembered. It had been his mother’s wedding day. And he was so happy for her. He had been out for a walk, round the grounds, away from the
house, the family. Enjoying himself. Planning his future. And when he had come back, he had found …

  He knew what he had found. Bodies everywhere. Blood. Mess. The man he was trying to call his father. Like something from a horror movie. And his mother. Oh God, his mother … lying next to him. He was holding her, as if he had tried to protect her. Both of them dead. Gone.

  That was when he had retreated. Found somewhere in his head to hide, to stay. And he had been there ever since.

  But there was something else, some other memory …

  Jiminy Cricket. Appearing before him, telling him what to do. And he had done it. Done as he was told. So numb, so dead from what he had just seen, he had done it.

  And another memory was there too …

  He closed his eyes. Didn’t want to bring it back, yet knew he had to. His mind was a fairground ride now. It might make him feel sick, it might scare him, it might make him wish he was dead. But he had to go through with it. He couldn’t get off until it had ended.

  Until it had shown him everything it had to show him.

  The other room. His brother. His sister.

  Or the two people his mother had wanted him to call brother and sister.

  Both lying there. Blood everywhere. But not dead. Moving. Looking up at him. Pretending. Like it was all some game.

  He looked across at Amy. And it was like he was suddenly struck by lightning. He knew. He knew exactly what was happening.

  ‘I’m not a killer,’ he said aloud once more. ‘And I never have been … ’

  He stared at Amy.

  ‘I know who you are.’

  She smiled. ‘Well done, Einstein. Now do what you’re told.’

  ‘I’m not a killer,’ he said. ‘I would never kill a child. Never.’ He clutched Josephina tightly to him. ‘And I won’t let you hurt her either.’

  ‘Just do it! Do as you’re told. Then it’s time to go.’

  ‘I would never kill a child. Never.’ He swung the gun round, pointed it at Amy. ‘I know who you are.’

  Amy was about to throw back a nasty, glib remark at him, but she saw the look in his eyes, stopped.

  ‘I know who you are. And what you’ve done to me. And my life.’

  She said nothing.

  ‘You’ve taken my life … ’

  He squeezed the trigger.

  86

  The Golem stopped, his arm round the woman’s throat, poised to snap. Dee Sloane had placed a restraining hand on his arm. They both looked towards the sound of the phone ringing.

  The Golem didn’t want to stop. It didn’t matter who was there, he could take care of them too. Take care of all of them. There was nothing he couldn’t do. Nothing …

  Dee Sloane was gesturing silently to him. Nodding her head, moving her arm. The back of the boats. Take the woman to the back of the boats. Continue there.

  He nodded and was about to move.

  That was when the woman screamed again.

  ‘Help me, oh God, help … help me … ’

  The Golem began dragging her, but it was too late. Her screaming had alerted the person on the phone. Or persons. Two of them. Both running towards him.

  ‘Leave her,’ shouted Dee. ‘Deal with them.’

  He dropped the woman, turned to the two newcomers. A man and a woman. The woman’s mouth was open and she was shouting something, making an identification of herself, giving him an instruction. She might even have said police, but he wasn’t listening. He was doing as he was told.

  He moved forward, grabbed her round the throat. She dropped her phone but it kept ringing. He squeezed.

  And stopped. Because he was aware of something on his back. He turned. The other one, the Indian man, had picked up an oar and was swinging it towards the Golem’s back. And again.

  The Golem felt only the slightest irritation, but the man’s aim was good and strong and he started to lose his footing. The man was tiring a little but still going. The Golem took his hand away from the woman, turned to face this new challenge. Swung out a fist.

  Missed.

  The man was small, wiry. Reflexes sharp. He dodged, twisted.

  The Golem swung again. The man ducked. The Golem’s fist connected with one of the stacked boats. The pile tottered, but didn’t fall. The Golem looked at his hand. His knuckles were skinned, splinters of wood sticking out of the exposed flesh like spikes, but he felt nothing. Dr Bracken’s pills were wonderful.

  Out of the corner of his eye, he was aware of the woman kneeling on the ground, scrabbling for the phone. That couldn’t happen. As she reached for it, fingers almost there, he kicked her arm. Heard the bone snap. She screamed, collapsed.

  ‘This is taking too long! Finish it!’

  Dee’s voice.

  The Golem turned, acknowledging his instructions. Turned back to the pair before him.

  She was right. Time to finish this.

  87

  Marina felt as though she had been paralysed and forced to watch her worst nightmare. She couldn’t move for fear Stuart Sloane would shoot her daughter. She couldn’t stay where she was because she had to do something. Josephina was staring at her. Eyes shining with tears, demanding answers. Why are you standing there? Why won’t you help me, Mummy? Answers Marina couldn’t give.

  The man holding the gun clutched her tighter.

  Time slowed down. The voices around her phased out, people began to move in slow motion.

  Marina’s brother screams, runs past her, heads towards the man with the gun. Moves slowly in Marina’s mind, yet also swiftly.

  The man swings his gun sideways, away from Josephina. Even from this distance, Marina can see his finger squeezing the trigger, can sense that he is about to fire. She opens her mouth to scream. A dull roar emerges.

  Sandro reaches the gunman. And is on him. The gunman looks up, eyes wide with surprise, mouth attempting to speak, no words coming out.

  Sandro’s hand clamps round the gunman’s hand, wrenches the gun away from him, throws it behind him.

  The gunman tries to shout something. His words don’t make it.

  Sandro pulls back his arm, balls his fingers into a fist. Brings the fist down into the man’s face.

  Hard.

  Marina sees the man let go of Josephina.

  Her daughter is free.

  Time starts again. And Marina is back in the present. She can move once more.

  ‘Josephina!’

  Her legs free, she began shoving her way through the crowd. Sandro’s exit from the ring had attracted attention. People were beginning to look towards the back of the arena, trying to see what she was looking at, what she was running towards.

  She pushed, shouted, tried to force her way through, to get to her daughter. All around her were screams, rushing bodies, crushing her, stopping her from progressing. She caught only glimpses of her brother, her daughter, the crowd pressing in, obscuring her view. She pushed hard, moving forward all the while.

  Then stopped suddenly as a pair of big, heavy hands clamped themselves on her shoulders.

  She tried to shake them off, couldn’t. Turned to scream at them to let her go.

  ‘Don’t worry, love,’ said a familiar Welsh voice. ‘I’m here, I’ve got you. You’re safe now.’

  DCI Gary Franks.

  She turned back to where she had been headed.

  Her brother, her daughter were now completely lost to the crowd.

  88

  ‘Taking ages to answer,’ said Mickey.

  ‘Maybe she’s got a hot date.’ Anni was sitting on the desk once more, swinging her legs.

  Mickey waited. ‘Not going to voicemail, either. Strange.’

  ‘Not really. It is Sunday night. Easter Sunday. Maybe she’s at home. Not everyone’s like us. Some people have social lives.’

  The phone was answered. Mickey held up a hand, indicating this to Anni.

  ‘Hi, Jessie?’

  ‘Oh, so it’s Jessie now, is it?’ Anni was speaking just loud enough to b
e heard on the other end.

  Mickey waved his hand at her, trying to shush her. ‘Mickey Philips here. I’m just—’

  He stopped dead. The voice on the other end of the phone spoke.

  ‘You’re too late, Mickey Philips. Whoever you are. Much too late … ’

  The line went dead.

  Anni had a wisecrack planned. The expression on Mickey’s face froze it in her mouth.

  ‘Shit,’ he said. ‘We’ve got trouble.’

  89

  ‘No!’ shouted Marina, throwing off Franks’s hand. ‘My daughter, my daughter’s down there … ’ She wriggled free from him and ran forward. He followed.

  All around was chaos. Franks and his team had identified themselves as police officers and the crowd were panicking, desperately clambering towards the exits. The fight was over. The fight to avoid arrest for taking part in an illegal activity had begun.

  Marina pushed her way through with a new-found strength. She wished that strength had been in evidence a few minutes ago. Eventually the barn began to clear, and she could make her way through the crowd. She reached the spot where Josephina had been. Her brother and the gunman were being marched away by police officers, arms up behind their backs. The woman she had spoken to on the phone had gone too.

  ‘He’s my … my brother … ’ she called out, but no one heard her.

  She looked round, scanned the faces in the barn. Checked behind the bales, on the seats. Nothing. She turned to Franks, panic rising.

  ‘Where’s my … where’s my daughter?’

  He answered, but she didn’t hear him. She searched frantically. Pulled everything apart. But the woman was gone.

  And so was Josephina.

  PART FOUR

  RESURRECTION MONDAY

  90

  Midnight. And Easter Sunday became Easter Monday.

  Michael Sloane paced the floor of the hotel room. Or as much as he could, given the tiny space they were in. The Holiday Inn outside Colchester wasn’t where they usually stayed, but that was the point. No one would look for them there, Michael had said. Having spent less than half an hour in the room, Dee agreed.