by T. J. Lebbon
‘Then tell me. If you don’t know where they are, tell me where they might be. If not home, where would they go? Somewhere safe. Somewhere close where they might spend the night if they can’t stay at home.’
‘Why can’t they stay at home? What’s happening?’
‘I’m asking the questions,’ Lip said. He hefted the book. The cover had fallen off, and as he held it up the pages slumped open, making a gentle whisper as they fanned. He turned it towards the weak starlight streaming through open curtains, squinting. ‘Lord of the Rings. Good book.’
‘I … haven’t read it.’
Lip considered this for a moment and decided it didn’t matter.
‘Please don’t hurt Paul any more.’
‘If you don’t start telling me what I need, I’ll beat his brains out with this book you haven’t read.’
The woman, Mandy, didn’t answer.
‘Last chance,’ Lip said. He lifted the book. The man was curled on the edge of the bed, hands drawn up to cover his head.
‘Maybe … her parents’? They live in Nottingham, I think.’
‘Closer,’ Lip said. ‘Like I said, somewhere nearby.’
‘Um …’
He hit the man. Hard. He could smell blood. Page edges were sharp, the corners of the remaining back cover mean.
‘I don’t know!’ Mandy said, voice distorted by tears. ‘I really don’t, I don’t understand why you’re here or what’s happening, we haven’t done anything, I don’t know—’
Lip’s phone rang. He held up his free hand until the woman stopped talking, then pulled the phone from his pocket and looked at the screen. Sonja.
He sighed, then connected. He said nothing.
‘Lip, I know where they might be. At least I have three options, and between us we can cover them.’
The man crawled up the bed and Mandy held him. He bled onto her.
‘You’re sure?’ Lip asked.
‘Yes.’
‘How do you know?’
‘New information,’ Sonja said. ‘You get anything?’
‘No,’ Lip said. He stared at the pale shapes on the bed, wretched creatures whimpering instead of roaring, submitting instead of fighting. His focus had been broken. The outside world had intruded. ‘I’m just picking up my car.’ He let the book slip from his hand.
‘Meet us in the town’s main car park. You know it?’
‘Yes. I’ll be there in five minutes.’ He disconnected before Sonja could say anything else and pocketed the phone.
Mandy and the man were making sounds. He recognised these noises because he had heard them so many times before. Similar to the involuntary sounds they had made whilst fucking, these were instinctive, animal whimpers of pain and fear, groans or subtle cries of dreadful anticipation as they balanced between this moment and whatever might come next.
But for Lip, the moment was broken. He looked down at the book on the floor, little more than a shadow in the poor light. Touched it with his boot, moved it across the carpet. Gone from his hand, it no longer resembled a weapon.
‘I’m going,’ he said. He turned for the door and heard the sound of sudden movement on the bed.
The man rested one knee on the bed, his other foot on the floor. Coming for him. He was shaking. His face glimmered, blood black in moonlight.
Lip pinned him in place with his stare.
‘If you contact your friend, I’ll come back. I’ll do you first.’ He pointed at the man. Then at Mandy. ‘After him, you. Slowly.’
They probably wanted to say more, beg, assure him of their silence. But Lip left them, walking calmly downstairs and exiting through the removed patio door.
His Jeep was still parked across the street on the opposite pavement. As he climbed inside and started the engine, he glanced up at the woman’s house. The lights remained off. He had left darkness in their lives. His expression did not change, but inside he allowed himself a small smile.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Night Watch
Dom swallowed a couple more painkillers. It felt like they were working. Either that or he was becoming used to the discomfort, and Daisy cleaning his face had eased the pain somewhat. He wasn’t sure whether or not his nose was broken, but his head throbbed, a pulsing discomfort behind his eyes. He could still see from both eyes, though the right was puffy and swollen half-shut.
None of this mattered. Pain would go away, and a broken nose would heal. All that mattered was his family. He had to concentrate on the present and the future, not the past he had messed up so comprehensively. Blame and shame could come later.
Daisy sat on the comfortable chair beside him, nibbling on another bar of chocolate. She was very quiet, but alert, eyes wide and startled. Emma was behind her desk with her feet up. She looked at Dom without expression, seeing something more distant. They had opened the blinds to allow moon- and starlight inside, but other than that there were no lights. Andy had insisted they turn off the lamp. Dom only knew Emma was awake because of the faint glimmer of her eyes.
Andy stood close to the door. They’d left it ajar, and he was keeping watch.
None of them had spoken for ten minutes. They were waiting for Jane Smith, who Andy said would be with them soon. What happened then, Dom had no idea.
He remembered the sickening impact of Frank falling from the windmill. The weight of the rock parting the smashed windscreen and impacting his face. Daisy’s expression when she saw her dad bloodied and in pain.
‘I need to pee,’ Daisy said.
Dom took a deep breath and stood, groaning as his head thumped, but determined to move on his own. It wasn’t as bad as he’d feared. No dizziness, and the pain was no worse than a monster hangover. Mind over matter.
‘I’ll go with you,’ he said.
‘I’ll go,’ Emma said. ‘I need one too.’
‘You sure?’ Dom wanted to do something, to act in defence of his family. He’d been sitting down nursing his wounds for too long, allowing Daisy to clean his face and Emma to feed him painkillers. Perhaps it was nothing more than misplaced ego, but he wanted to take charge.
Emma was already up and heading for the door. Andy stepped aside. She didn’t even look at him.
‘We’ll have to be quiet,’ she said to Daisy. ‘Brian isn’t always sleeping on his shift. We’ll hear him if he’s doing the rounds, he breathes like an asthmatic buffalo.’
Daisy did an impression, but did not laugh.
‘Where’s the toilet?’ Dom asked.
‘Past the vending machines. We won’t be long.’
He grabbed her hand, and they shared a squeeze.
‘Dad, we’re fine,’ Daisy said. ‘I know karate.’
‘Be quick,’ he said. Emma and Daisy both looked at him, a moment paused. It was the phrase they used to urge Jazz out of the house to pee.
Andy checked both ways along the corridor, then stood aside to let them pass.
‘Any sign of something wrong, call my phone.’
Emma looked at Dom, eyebrow raised.
‘Mine broke,’ he said.
Emma nodded, and she and Daisy left. Andy pushed the door to behind them, leaving an inch gap. He leaned against the wall and watched them go.
‘How’re you feeling?’ he asked without looking at Dom.
‘Like I was hit in the face with a brick.’ Dom picked up a bar of chocolate from Emma’s desk. It hurt to bite and chew, but it tasted good. ‘Where’s the money?’
‘What? Seriously?’
‘You brought a bag full of mouldy clothes to give to your family. I can’t believe you left the cash where it was.’
‘You’re really concerned about your share, now?’ Andy asked.
Dom took a step towards him. Andy was bigger and stronger and, as was becoming clear, far more used to dealing and witnessing violence. But still he tensed against the wall.
‘I don’t give a fuck about share,’ Dom said. ‘But if your Jane Smith wants paying, I need to know we can afford
her.’
‘Sure, Dom,’ Andy said. ‘I’m not that bad. I tucked it in the spare wheel well of your car when I was putting the bag in the boot.’
‘We can’t use our car again.’
‘Already thought about that. I saw a white van out front, maybe it belongs to the security guard. If we can’t get the keys I can hot-wire it.’
‘Then we’re driving around in a stolen vehicle.’
‘What else do you suggest?’
‘Where’s your car?’
‘Abergavenny.’
‘Maybe we should drive the van there when the time comes, take your car. Unless they know where you live.’
‘They won’t,’ Andy said. He sounded confident.
‘Can’t risk it. Park in Waitrose car park, walk through the woods above the new housing estate, get to your place that way. We can suss out if they’re watching, then get in across your apartment block’s back garden.’
‘Sounds like a plan.’
Dom sat down again. He didn’t like not having Emma and Daisy here with him. He should have gone with them.
‘I don’t know you at all,’ Dom said. He looked at the man by the door, this person who pretended to be his friend, and in the darkness Andy could have been anyone, thinking anything. A shadow was an accurate representation of who and what he was.
‘You know me better than anyone has for years,’ Andy said.
‘Maybe that doesn’t say much,’ Dom said. ‘You’re more like them than you are like me.’
‘It’s peace and quiet I wanted,’ Andy said. ‘I intended to be a loner, comfortable in my own company. And the company of an occasional woman. But we met and got on well, and became closer than I wanted to allow. That’s the truth.’
‘You killed your cousin today. You don’t seem cut up about it.’
‘He tried to kill us, Dom. When we were there to put things right—’
‘You pulled a gun to try and put things right?’
‘Yeah. Well. We never got that far.’
‘Where did you even get it?’
‘There are places, if you know where to look.’
‘So all these trips you take, the mountain climbing, parachute jumping. That time last year you went for three weeks to climb Kilimanjaro. All those times, were you off around the country robbing places?’ Dom didn’t really believe that. He couldn’t, because that would mean he’d been even more of a fool than he feared. But equally, he had no idea how much of the Andy he thought he knew was still there. Maybe he was no more real than a shadow-man.
‘No, they were all genuine. I’ll admit maybe they’re attempts to get the adrenalin flowing. I left my family with every intention of going straight, living a normal life. I paid Jane Smith to help me do that. But when I figured out they were going to hit the post office …’ The shadow moved. A shrug.
‘Temptation was too great,’ Dom said.
‘Yeah.’
‘So what did Lip do that made you leave?’
Andy turned to look at him. Something happened with the light. Maybe clouds cleared from the sun, because his face was a pale oval, stern and almost inhuman.
‘He’s a monster,’ Andy said. ‘Soon after he and Mary hooked up, Sonja brought him into the fold. I was against that from the start. He was a stranger, but I guess Sonja saw a like mind.’
‘You call your mother by her name?’
‘The word mother implies love. Anyway, we were planning on turning over a holiday park in Cumbria. You know, caravans, tents, clubhouse. The amount of cash that passes through those places in one weekend, you wouldn’t believe. Lip was invited along for the ride and he accepted. Couldn’t tell if he was excited or confident. You can’t tell anything with him, most expressionless bastard I’ve ever met.’ Andy trailed off, looking along the corridor again. He glanced at his phone.
‘So what happened?’ Dom prompted.
‘Plan worked well,’ Andy said. ‘We broke in at night, raided the office, got the safe into our van without anyone noticing. It was all going smoothly. Then a cleaner appeared from out of nowhere, wheeled bucket and mop, the full works. She clocked us, turned around, tried to walk away.’
‘She saw your faces?’
‘No. We wore masks. But before anyone could speak, Lip had shoved her through a door into a store room.’ Andy sighed heavily. If he was faking his unease at these memories he was a great actor. ‘There was no call for what he did. None at all. She’d almost shrugged when she saw us; she wasn’t worried about us robbing the place. She’d probably still get paid. She was casual about walking away, as if it was the most normal …’
Andy checked his phone again. The brief flare of the screen lit his features. Stern, grim.
‘Lip picked up the dropped mop, smacked her around the head, and shoved the handle end into her eye. I heard the pop. The squelch. It was … horrible. I’ve never heard anything like it before or since. He leaned on it, all his weight, pushed it down into her brain. She died pretty quickly, I guess. She was the first person I ever saw die. After that—’
Someone screamed.
Dom leapt up, tugged the door open and pushed past a surprised Andy. Maybe telling the story had taken Andy from the moment, stolen his alertness. Dom was ahead of him along the hallway, moving as quickly and quietly as he could.
Maybe I imagined it, he thought. My head’s taken a knock, maybe my skull is fractured after all—
Another short scream, followed by a shout from Emma. ‘Leave her alone!’
‘Where is he?’ A man’s voice, accented, perhaps Scottish.
‘Don’t hurt her, don’t hurt—’
‘Where is he?’
‘I don’t know!’
Dom reached the corner and swung around, dashing past vending machines towards a half-open door on the left. Someone had turned the bathroom light on. He knew Emma would not have done that. He could hear footsteps behind him, and Andy hissing something at him, but he couldn’t hear the words, and he’d take no notice anyway. Every moment felt like an eternity, each breath forever. So much could happen in an instant.
Lip picked up the dropped mop and shoved the handle end into her eye.
‘Where is he, where is he, where is he?’
‘Please, my office, I’ll take you just don’t—’
Dom hit the door at a run.
In the split second he had to observe, he understood what was going on, and instinct took over.
Emma was standing with her back against a row of three sinks on the left, hands held out beseechingly. To the right, past a spine wall built to hide the bathroom interior from outside, was Daisy. A man was holding her, one arm around her waist, the other pressing a gun barrel into her cheek. They had their backs to a line of five toilet cubicles.
Everything became clear in Dom’s mind, a series of thoughts that probably lasted less than a second but which flowed with a startling clarity.
I might slip on the floor.
He has a gun.
If I stop, I lose the surprise.
If I run, he might pull the trigger.
Is this Lip?
That last thought almost hobbled him. But Dom was driven by a momentum both physical and mental, a pure, unadulterated fury at what this man was doing to his daughter.
He took one more long step and then jumped.
Daisy grasped the man’s arm, levered it away, and dropped.
The gun fired. It was incredibly loud in the large tiled room, but Dom barely noticed.
His right hand caught the man’s collar, his left grasped his wrist and flung it back, lifting the gun high as the second shot blasted out. A mirror smashed. His momentum drove the man back against a cubicle door. It swung open and they fell inside, Dom kicking with his legs to drive the man down before him. The pan struck the stranger in the back and his eyes widened in surprise and pain. But they were also hard and cold, and his sneering grin convinced Dom that this was not someone who gave in easily.
The man’s head snappe
d forward and up, connecting squarely with Dom’s nose. Pain roared. A flare was ignited behind his eyes. But instinct kept him there, and he brought up his right knee, driving it hard between the man’s legs.
He cried out, then groaned.
Behind him, Dom heard shouting and the sounds of a struggle – raised voices, an impact, a pained cry. But he could not risk turning around. Blood was flowing from his nose, and he pushed forward and up, snorting and splashing blood into the man’s face and eyes.
The gun fired again, so close to his ear that it felt like a solid punch. The man thrashed and struggled, writhing so much that he wriggled out from beneath Dom and started sliding upright against the cubicle wall.
Dom refused to let go of his gun hand, rising with him, half-blinded by pain and blood.
The man head-butted him again. He laughed. ‘Fucker. Like that, do ya?’ Glasgow kiss, Dom thought, and even through the pain and confusion he managed a laugh. The man’s left hand rooted between them, swung free again, and Dom heard Daisy shout, ‘Dad!’
If he’d turned to look at Daisy, he might have died. But he recognised the urgent warning in his daughter’s voice. Left hand still clasping the Scot’s gun hand, Dom released his collar and fell against him, crushing him against the cubicle wall and swinging his right hand down, blocking the knife blow that might otherwise have gutted him.
The man grunted, swung his hand back for another stab, and Dom bit into his face. He clamped his teeth as hard as he could, feeding off the image of the man holding Daisy with a gun to her head, and the knowledge that he had already pulled the trigger.
The man squealed. Dom tasted sour skin and blood, and felt the knotted hardness of gristle.
Pain sliced across Dom’s right arm. Teeth still clamped, he ripped his head to the side. He still had something in his mouth. The man screamed, Dom spat, and then something hard struck him across the face.
Stars bloomed, darkness loomed, as he slid against the cubicle wall.
‘Dad, no!’ Daisy shouted.
I let him go, Dom thought. I had him and I let him go, and now Daisy and Emma are just standing there and—
He lashed out with both hands. His left hand struck cool metal which instantly flared hot as the man fired the gun again. The porcelain toilet bowl shattered, shards scattering like ice rain. Dom drove up with his head lowered and felt it connect squarely with the man’s face, forcing him back against the wall.
