Death on a Dirty Afternoon (The Terry Bell Mysteries Book 1)

by Colin Garrow

  I held up a hand, only too aware of the tremor in my fingers. 'We're not here about jobs.'

  He inclined his head and for a moment I thought he might be about to laugh, then it seemed that a flicker of doubt skated across his face. He coughed and shook his head again. 'Ye've lost me, Terry. What's this about?'

  I pointed to David's employees. 'Don't ye know? I'm sure your minions do.'

  David turned his head towards them and tried another laugh, but the colour had drained from his face, the way it does in movies when the villain of the piece realises he's in the shit.

  'Look, er...I'm sure we can sort this out...'

  Ralph stepped forward. 'In here.' He took hold of David's arm and headed for the side room, dragging his luggage with him.

  I glanced over at Beardy, Benchy and the Less Ugly One, but it was obvious they had no intention of getting involved. Not this time.

  I closed the door behind me. David turned to face us, his back to a pile of British Gypsum bags. Ralph and I stood opposite him in the small space. There was nowhere to go.

  'Now look...'

  'No, you look.' I held up a finger, but the tremor was still there. Typically, my bottom lip decided to join in as well. I closed my mouth, clamping my teeth shut, striving to get control of myself. Thankfully, Ralph was more than up to the task in hand.

  'Ye put your boys onto Terry.' It wasn't a question.

  David licked his lips. 'Look, I only found out this morning they were involved, I had no idea.'

  'Aye, right.'

  'Really, Terry, you have to believe me. You've got to understand –'

  'They had a gun, David, a fuckin gun.'

  His eyes went like saucers. 'Jesus. I didn't –'

  I stepped forward and grabbed the lapel of his jacket. 'Don't make on ye didn't know. How d'ye think fuckface in there got a hole in his foot?' I gave him a shake and pushed him back against the bags.

  'Terry, man, I didn't know it was them.' His face had regained some of its colour and was now heading toward the beetroot spectrum. 'I gave the job to –'

  He stopped abruptly, as if it'd suddenly dawned on him what he was saying.

  'Go on,' I said. 'Ye gave the job to who, exactly?'

  He dropped his head. When it came, his voice was barely a whisper. 'This Jamaican guy I know. Call him Brian, or Barney, or something...' He gave a pathetic shrug. 'How was I to know he'd farm it out to those guys in there? I mean, my own workers! It's farcical.' He shook his head and laughed harshly. 'You couldn't make it up.'

  'Aye, well,' I said. 'Didn't have to, did ye?'

  'Look, Terry...'

  'Thing is, Davey Boy,' said Ralph, 'it still comes down to you, doesn't it? So, what we're goin to do...' He placed a hand on my chest, pushing me gently to one side. 'Is go into the removal business.' Slowly and deliberately, he took out the tool roll and extracted the secateurs.

  David stared at him. 'What? You're not serious?'

  Ralph glanced at me. 'Ye up to this, bonny lad? It's fine if ye're not.'

  I nodded and muttered, 'I'm up to it.'

  Ralph seized David's right hand. 'You take the other one.'

  Moving forward, I pressed myself against my brother-in-law, grasping his left arm and holding it away from his body so he couldn't move. It occurred to me that with his arms outstretched like this, we were unwittingly creating a kind of unsophisticated crucifixion. I would've laughed if the circumstances had been different.

  David began to thrash about, pulling at my arms, struggling to free himself. Changing position, I braced my feet to gain a better stance. But still he heaved this way and that, kicking out at my legs. Our chests pressed together and the unexpected heat from his body was disconcerting. A wave of nausea washed over me and there was a bad taste in my mouth.

  'Get the fuck off me, now!'

  Holding him firm, I glanced at Ralph for guidance. He clearly had no difficulty keeping David's other hand still. He gave me a sharp, questioning look. Was this what I wanted? I nodded.

  David thrust his chest forward, letting out a low groan, then slumped forwards, exhausted. He turned to me, his eyes pleading. 'Terry, man, there's no need for any of this, is there? We can work something out.' His voice was hoarse and I could smell cigarettes on his breath. I wondered if Jessie knew he smoked.

  'I'm sure we can –'

  He stopped as the secateurs bit into his little finger.

  David didn't scream. Rather, he let out a sort of feeble half-yelp, a quiet objection.

  Ralph maintained his position, David's wrist gripped firmly in his meaty hand, the newly-assaulted little finger nestled between the blades of the secateurs, blood dripping from the cut.

  'Now,' he said. 'As ye can see, it's only superficial, no real damage done. Yet. But I'll easy cut it off if ye like. No bother at all. All it needs is a little squeeze.' He grinned. 'And then there were nine.'

  David's eyes were so wide I thought they might actually pop out of his head. 'Don't cut it off, please don't...'

  'Then tell us what we want to know.' Ralph's voice was soft, almost kindly.

  David swallowed noisily.

  'Alright. I've got this contract, see, renovating old buildings. It's part of a new development to create sustainable dwellings for older people. You know the sort of thing, low rent and –'

  'Aye, whatever,' said Ralph. 'Get on with it.'

  David nodded vigorously. 'It's worth a lot of money but there are deadlines and massive fines if I don't get the work done on time.' He paused, glanced at me, then dropped his eyes. 'I was told you were interfering. That I had to...discourage you. Somehow.'

  'Told by who?'

  He looked up. 'I can't say.'

  I let go the breath I'd been holding. 'Sven Andersson.'

  'What?' David frowned, then seemed to give himself a bit of a shake. He nodded quickly. 'Yes, he's the main investor, see? Along with Sanjay Ahmed and a few others.' He was into his stride now, words tumbling out. He shrugged.

  'So it was Sven who told you to sort me out?'

  David's face scrunched up and he looked away. 'Pretty much.'

  'Pretty much? Either it was or it wasn't.'

  'It was a phone call.'

  'From him?'

  He seemed less certain now. 'One of his cronies.'

  I shook my head. 'Bastard.'

  Ralph loosened his grip on David's finger but not before promising recriminations if the rest of our questions weren't answered.

  Unfortunately, as it turned out, my dear relation wasn't part of the inner workings of the Andersson gang, so his involvement amounted to little more than doing what he was told in return for hefty backhanders. He maintained he'd had nothing to do with the caravan fire or anything else, except the business at the farmhouse. It all sounded a little absurd and I struggled to see why he'd have got involved with the Anderssons in the first place. Surely it couldn't be just for the money? But then something else occurred to me.

  'What ye goin to tell Jess?'

  His face hit the deck. 'Oh Christ, you won't mention this to her, will you, Terry?'

  I shook my head. 'No, I won't. You will.'

  He half-laughed. 'No, really. You don't know her.'

  'I think I do, actually.' I rested a hand on his shoulder and noticed my tremor had disappeared. 'Tell you what - you tell us something that's actually useful, like where Carol is, or who killed Ronnie, etc etc...and I'll see what I can do.'

  His mouth dropped open. 'What's happened to Carol?'

  I wasn't convinced he didn't know, but had to admit he did a pretty good impersonation of looking surprised when I related the events of the previous night.

  'There's a place you can try where they might be keeping her. It's a house up the West End, on Nugent Crescent.'

  'No, we've been there,' I started.

  David waved his injured hand. 'No, not that one. I mean the one next door.'

  I looked at Ralph. 'Next door?'

  David nodded. 'That's where
they –' He stopped and looked off to one side, as if trying to recall what it was he'd been about to say. I had the distinct impression he thought he'd said too much.

  Ralph leaned forward and grasped David's injured finger, twisting it backwards. 'That's where they what?'

  David squealed and pulled his hand away, tucking it under his arm. 'That's where they keep the girls.'

  'Oh, fuck.' I lashed out and caught him around the neck. 'And you knew about this? You fuckin knew?' My hand began to tighten.

  Ralph took hold of my arm. 'Divvent kill him, Terry, or your sister'll kill you.'

  This was true. I let go.

  David doubled up, gasping for breath and holding his neck. After a moment, he managed to straighten up. 'I've never been there, Terry, you have to believe me.'

  'So how d'you know about the girls?'

  'I don't, really. Just something I overheard while having a drink with Ahmed. One of his men called him and Ahmed said something about the new woman they'd got hold of and that she'd be going in with the other whores next door.'

  Chapter 16

  We shoved David in the back of the car and took the coast road to Newcastle. No-one spoke until we were on Westgate Road and within a mile of our destination, by which time the rain had started again. I'd have preferred total darkness to this autumnal half-light, so was thankful when the skies began to take on a suitably gloomy outlook that seemed more appropriate to our mission.

  As we approached the turn-off, I remembered my car and directed Ralph to the bottom end of the road. The Nissan was exactly where I'd left it.

  'Where ye going?' said Ralph as I jumped out.

  With a hand already in my pocket, I remembered I didn't have the keys. If I'd thought about it, we could've picked up the spare set from the taxi office, but of course, we'd been in too much of a rush to think logically. Trying my luck, I pressed down on the boot lock, giving it what I hoped was the magic thump, but it stayed locked. Moving round to the driver's side window, I peered through the glass and amazingly, the keys were right there in the ignition. Maybe the bad guys had hoped it would get nicked and save them the trouble of getting rid of it.

  I found what I wanted and relocked the car.

  'What the fuck ye doin with that?' said Ralph, as I climbed in beside him.

  'Think it looks real?'

  'Looks bloody real to me,' he said, leaning away from me.

  I shuffled round in my seat and aimed the Luger at David's head. 'Bang, fucking, bang.'

  'Jesus, Terry, be careful!' His hands shot up in front of his face.

  'Aye, it's funny havin a gun pointed at ye, isn't it?' I shoved the weapon inside my jacket out of sight. 'Don't worry, it's only a replica. Got it off Bummer Harris. Just in case.'

  We turned around and parked up on the main road, then made our way back down to Nugent Crescent. David limped along behind us, still clutching his injured hand.

  Reaching the green door, we stopped outside the next house along.

  'This it?'

  David shrugged. 'How would I know?'

  I stared at him. 'Well, is it or isn't it?'

  'He said it was next door. That's all I know.'

  Ralph rolled his eyes. 'Right, only one way to find out.' He started up the path. Grabbing his sleeve, I pulled him back.

  'Wait. What if it's the wrong one?'

  'If it's the wrong one it doesn't matter, does it?' and before I could object, he'd knocked on the door.

  A moment later, it swung open and a wizened face peered out.

  'Yes dear?'

  Ralph cleared his throat. 'Sorry to bother ye and that, but I wondered if Mr Ahmed was here?'

  The old woman shook her head. 'No pet, ye want number 37.' She smiled and nodded then closed the door.

  We backtracked past the green door to the next house along.

  'Second time lucky, eh?' said Ralph, starting up the path again. He banged on the door, then glancing over his shoulder muttered, 'Better get your gun out.'

  I took up a position beside him, holding the Luger out of sight inside my jacket. When the door opened, it seemed like everything stopped.

  My lips went through the motions of forming a sentence, but no sound came out.

  To be fair, the expression on Donny White's face showed he hadn't expected us any more than we'd expected him. His mouth opened and closed a few times, as if worked by a thread. Finally, he murmured, 'Oh, it's you.'

  For a moment, I was too stunned to do anything, then as Donny came to his senses and tried to shut the door, I barged past him, pushing him back against the wall.

  'Who else is here?' I kept my voice low and stuck the Luger under his chin.

  'The lads are in the kitchen.' He raised a shaking finger and pointed along the passageway.

  'And the women?'

  He closed his eyes, then nodded his head. 'Downstairs.'

  Ralph closed the door quietly, then with Donny in front and David bringing up the rear, we headed towards the sound of voices at the back of the house.

  My tremor had come back with a vengeance and my hand was shaking so much I could hardly keep hold of the weapon. I whispered in the fat man's ear. 'Downstairs, ye said?'

  He nodded and opened a door on the left.

  Glancing inside, I saw a flight of stone steps leading down into what must be the cellar. I nudged Donny with the gun. He began to descend the stairs, and I was gratified that he had the sense to do so quietly.

  At the foot of the stairs was another door, bolted top and bottom. Donny knelt down and eased the bolt out. The top one proved to be a little temperamental and squeaked as he slid it backwards.

  I turned to Ralph. 'You stay here. I don't want anyone shutting us in.'

  He nodded and reached into his outside jacket pocket, pulling out a small cosh. 'Mind, if they've got guns, we're fucked.' He grinned.

  I pushed the door inwards. It opened into a short passage leading to another door at the end, this one unlocked. As I opened the second door, I heard a gasp from inside. Pushing slowly forwards, I looked in.

  The room was about fifteen feet square, with four single divan beds in a line against one wall. A small lamp sat on a cabinet opposite. No other furniture was in the room apart from a dilapidated commode in the far corner.

  Carol was crouched on the end of the nearest bed, her hands and feet bound. Two other women sat on the other beds, similarly tied. I crossed the room in three quick strides and pulled the gag out of her mouth.

  'Terry!' Her voice was hoarse and tears were already streaming down her face. I glanced round. 'David - come on. Move!' My fingers were shaking almost uncontrollably as I struggled to undo the knots.

  David moved to the other girls and began pulling at the ropes.

  I checked on Donny and saw he hadn't moved from the doorway. 'You as well - do something.' Reluctantly, he shuffled over and began unfastening the third girl's bonds.

  It seemed to take an age to free them all, but eventually we got them on their feet. I guessed the other two women must be in their early twenties. They had an eastern European look to them and were dressed in outdoor clothes with shoes on their feet. Carol still wore the same clothes she'd had on when I last saw her. As soon as she was free, she wrapped her arms around my neck.

  'Thought I was never goin to see yer again,' her sobs muffled as she blubbed into my collar.

  I took hold of her shoulders and held her away from me. 'Plenty time for that later. We need to get out of here, alright?'

  She nodded, tearfully.

  I picked up the strands of rope, thinking they might come in useful.

  Ralph was peering up the staircase. He held a hand out to silence us. 'Don't move.'

  We stood stock still for a long moment until he made a come-hither motion with his fingers. 'Dead quiet, mind.'

  Carol's hand was in mine and she held on tight as we began our ascent. Ralph moved cautiously up the stairs, halting every other step to listen. By the time we got to the top, my
legs were like jelly.

  On our way down, Ralph had shut the door. Now he leaned against it, listening. He turned round, his voice barely audible. 'We get the women outside. David can take them to the car.' He wagged a finger at me. 'Me and you need to have a look in the kitchen.'

  My heart sank. Even though I was just as keen as he was to find out who was behind all this, I really didn't want to be coming face to face with them at this particular moment in time. Nevertheless, I nodded.

  Easing the door open, Ralph looked out, then opened it fully and waved Carol and me into the passageway. We headed for the front door, the others close behind.

  It was only when the outside air hit my face that I felt a sense of relief. I stood by the door breathing deeply until all three women were on the path. Ralph gave David the keys to the Volvo.

  'Give us ten minutes. If we're not there, get the hell out of here, okay?'

  David nodded and led the women out onto the pavement.

  Carol's eyes were on mine, but I waved her away. 'Go on. Go.'

  We waited until they were a good way up the road before going back into the house.

  Donny was standing by the door. 'Sorry,' he muttered.

  'Aye, so am I.'

  Ralph put a hand on Donny's shoulder and gave him a gentle squeeze. 'How many are there?'

  Donny shrugged. 'Three, maybe. Unless anyone else's come in the back way.'

  'Excellent.' I looked at Ralph. 'What's the plan?'

  He leaned down towards me. 'We'll leave the front door open, just in case we need to do a runner. Your mate here can go first.' He gave Donny a hard stare. 'You give us away and I'll fucking plant ye, alright?'

  Donny nodded.

  Moving forward, the fat man led us along to the door at the end. This opened into what, in any normal house, would have been the lounge, though the way the chairs were set out, it looked more like a dentist's waiting room. Obviously, this was for clients, while they waited for their appointments.

  At the other end of the room was another door. Donny took hold of the handle. The voices were louder now and I reckoned Donny was right - there were at least three of them.