‘No problem. You need to make sure the zip is fastened on your backpack,’ he said, handing the purse over.
‘Please wait.’ She pulled a ten pound note out of the purse and held it out. ‘For you.’
‘No, thank you.’
‘Please take it. There’s more than a hundred quid in here, I would have lost the whole lot if you hadn’t found it. Not everyone’s as honest as you.’
Smiler backed away. ‘No, really, it’s all right.’ He moved out of her reach and, turning, quickly walked away.
‘I’ll give it to charity, then.’
‘OK.’ Nodding, he speeded up. He had gone only a few yards when the voice in his head said, ‘Well done, Smiler.’ He knew the voice belonged to Rita.
Feeling a very rare warm tingle inside, he headed for home. The idea that he had just donated to some charity completely fascinated him. He couldn’t remember ever feeling this good.
He had reached the gate when he had a flashback-Tiny searching for Aunt May.
Tiny finding Aunt May!
‘Yes!’
He ran down the path and into the house.
‘Whoa,’ Kristina yelled, 'we can't have him in here. He’ll destroy any evidence that there is.’
‘No, you don’t understand, Tiny will find them. He’s brilliant at tracking. He found Aunt May, didn’t he?’ He looked eagerly at Aunt May for confirmation.
Aunt May raised her eyebrows. ‘Did he?’ She patted the dog’s head. ‘So it was you. Clever dog.’
‘Yes, and he’ll be able to lead us to the swines who did this. I bettcha, honest he will. You should have seen him tearing around the village looking for Aunt May. You’ve gotta give him a try. She might have died if Tiny hadn’t found her.’
Kristina mulled it over for a moment then, shrugging, said, ‘OK, why not. We can’t even find a print here. So give it a go, let him off the lead so he can sniff around.’
Excited that he had been the one to come up with a plan, Smiler slipped Tiny’s lead off. ‘Go, boy.’
At first Tiny was more interested in trying to smother Aunt May in kisses, then Smiler shoved a couple of torn photographs under his nose. Tiny moved his head then, sniffing, swung back to the photographs.
‘Find, Tiny, find,’ Smiler repeated over and over, until suddenly Tiny started running round the sitting room, stopping to sniff at various places, before running for the door and starting to howl. Quickly, Smiler slipped his lead on, and opened the door.
‘I’ll come too,’ Kristina said.
Together they retraced the steps that Smiler and Tiny had just made on their way back a few minutes ago.
‘Hope he’s not following me.’
Kristina looked oddly at him. ’You trying to crack a joke?’
Smiler blushed and hid a hint of a smile.’ It’s just that this is the way we came back just now.’
‘OK, we’ll see if he goes further than you did. Who knows? He may lead us right to the culprit.’
A few minutes later, without losing steam, Tiny took them right up to the castle.
On the way up the long windy road that led to the castle, Kristina made the mistake of commenting on the fantastic view, and how grand the castle looked against the sky.
Smiler paused a moment, and pointed at another, much bigger castle, across the water on the mainland. ‘That’s Bamburgh Castle.’
‘I know.’ Kristina smiled.
‘This castle was built in 1550, around about the same time as the priory fell out of use. Stones from the priory were dragged up and used to build some of it. In the eighteenth century, the castle was briefly occupied by Jacobite rebels, but was quickly recaptured by soldiers who imprisoned the rebels. They dug themselves out, and hid for nine days close to Bamburgh Castle, before making good their escape… Did you know that this castle has been used in films?’ Ignoring Kristina’s sigh, he went on, ‘Yes, Roman Polanski used it for The Tragedy of Macbeth in 1971. Good film. They----’
‘Well, I never knew that at all,’ Kristina put in quickly, before he could go on.
‘There’s more.’
Kristina held up her hand. ‘I’m sure there is, love, but it’ll have to keep. We’re here now, and we need to find out who's hiding in here. That’s supposing the dog’s right.’
Reaching the door, Kristina took out her badge. ’Before we go in, are we sure they don’t let rooms out?’
‘Just to certain guests, I think that’s what Aunt May said. Her friend’s a cleaner here.’
A few minutes later, they were inside the castle and finding it hard to keep up with Tiny as he dragged them along corridor after corridor. He finally came to rest outside a door that he started to scratch.
‘Oh,’ Kristina said, ‘they’ll sue for damages.’
‘Stop it. Down, boy.’ Smiler pushed Tiny’s paw down.
Obediently, Tiny lay down. Pressing his nose to the bottom of the door, he began to sniff. Jumping up a moment later, he howled.
‘Guess this is it, then. Hope he hasn’t been chasing a friggin' cat.’ She looked at Smiler.
‘No… Well-I don’t think so. No. Definitely not a cat.’
‘Hmm.’ Looking unconvinced, Kristina knocked on the door. A moment later it opened, revealing the occupant.
‘You! Smiler said in disbelief.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
Shelly was perched on a bar stool, her short black skirt showing a lot of bare thigh as she crossed her legs. Picking up her glass, she took a sip of what looked like gin. Between her and the girl serving behind the bar, who thought she was looking for her boyfriend to give him a surprise and catch him with another girl, it was water. For what was to come, she needed a very clear head
There was no getting away from the fact that the place was a dive-sticky carpets, sticky bar, noisy clientele. Loud music was leaking out of the door into the dark. But it was just the sort of place that she wanted. The sort of place where recruits were picked up and introduced to the little yellow pills.
Guess summer's on the wane, she thought, looking at the clock on the bar wall. Eight o' clock, and the sky was growing dark already, though that was probably the storm clouds that were brewing. Still no flaming sign of what she was looking for, though. Perhaps it was time to move on to the next dump. She slid off the stool and, raising her glass to the barmaid, she drank the water and headed for the door.
She spent the next hour touring half a dozen bars, a couple full to the brim on a buy one, get one free night, the others just about empty. With no sightings of anyone who looked like they might be involved with the Leader, she decided to go back to the hotel.
She took a slow walk along the High Street. A few people were about, but it was mostly pretty quiet. She was passing a hotel that looked a whole lot better than hers, when at last she had her first bit of luck. The trio she was looking for stepped out of a car right in front of her. For a brief moment she was stunned but managing to hold it together, she took a step forward.
He’d cut his hair, but she would recognise him anywhere. He oozed arrogance. It flowed from him in waves. You are the shit beneath my shoes, his body language screamed.
Inside she was burning. Her need for revenge became even stronger than she ever thought it could as, outwardly calm, she passed within three yards of them. At the side of the hotel was an alleyway. She ducked inside and leaned against the wall and took a deep breath.
How the hell did I do that? Walk right on past them?
Her heart was pounding in her ears, but she was smiling.
If I can walk past them like that, then I can do what I plan to do! I can do anything I fucking well want to.
The next moment she changed her mind. Can’t do it… No way.
The trembling in her hands transferred to her whole body. If I can score, at least I’ll stop shaking. Then I’ll be able to do it.
Bastards. It’s their fault I’m addicted.
Should have picked some up. Certain that creep in the red hoodie at the
first pub was working it. Pity he only had dope on him.
‘Can’t do it,’ she mumbled.
'Yes, you can.' She looked quickly around. There was nobody there. Then the voice came again, from somewhere inside of her. 'You can do this.'
Freaked out for a moment, she froze. It was a voice she didn’t recognise, certainly not her own. What the hell is in those little yellow fuckers that the bastards are filling the streets with?
'You can do it.' The voice faded away on the last word.
Who?
But there wasn’t even an echo. Must have imagined it, going fucking crazy now.
OK, if I’m losing the plot, I might as well go for it. Got nothing else to lose now. Everything else is gone.
‘Danny,’ she muttered. Even the sound of his name tore her apart. Taking a deep breath, she squared her shoulders and, trying to stem the trembling in her hands, looked round the corner.
Of the Leader and the Chinese guard there was no sign, but the other one, the English sadist, was talking to the concierge.
This is it. A chance I might not get again.
Her plan had been a poor one, but all she’d been able to come up with-to get inside whatever place they were using now, and hopefully take whatever chance she could to murder the bastards, before they recognised her.
Taking her insulin pen out of her bag, she took the top off and wound it to the full dose, which would be lethal to a non-diabetic. Armed and ready, she stepped round the corner, keeping her head down, because it was the eyes that would give her away. If her eyes once met with the fiend's, he would know her immediately.
As she reached him, she wobbled, tripped over and fell against him. Quickly, she jabbed him in the back of his ankle and pressed the plunger. Before he turned, the pen was back in her pocket.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
Mike sat in the café opposite Tony’s flat, facing the window. He wore a flat cap pulled well down on his brow. He expected his face would be flashed all over the ten o' clock news, but that was a good few hours away yet. As well as dragging the truth out of Tony, he needed somewhere to hide out for a while.
The café was one he’d visited two or three times before when waiting for Tony to make an appearance. He was late as usual, but the proprietor didn’t seemed to recognise him. If he had, the cops would have been here long ago. It was probably the only good thing that had happened in a while.
Pictures of 40s and 50s film stars were scattered around the walls, some of them long dead now, the rest probably hidden away in some old folks' home. Comfortable brown leather armchairs and long low coffee tables with magazines scattered on them filled the room.
All very nice, Mike thought, but the coffee’s shite!
In the corner a young girl, obviously a student, was updating her Facebook page, humming along annoyingly with the jarring music coming out of her headphones. An old couple somewhere in their eighties, who still looked very much in love, were sat in the opposite corner.
Love? What is love? Mike thought. The love from a mother and a father? Well, that I’ve never known. Unwanted from day one.
Sometimes Mike wondered about his mother - who she was, where she was. And his father, what was he doing now?
What had he ever done?
Were they just a pair of kids when I was born?
Do they ever wonder about me?
Do I really want to know?
But the older he got, the less he thought of them, though he guessed that the wanting to know would never go away. The only thing he did know was that he had been in the home practically from birth, and that two foster homes hadn’t worked out. ’Guess I was lucky the third time around,’ he muttered.
He’d promised himself that one day he would go looking, but it had never seemed like the right time. One thing, poor Dave won’t ever go looking. Wonder if the poor sod still has the nightmares. He remembered the time when they were about ten years old, when Dave, who had always seemed so very quiet and withdrawn, had told him and Tony of the terrible things that had happened to him for as long as he could remember.
Guess he and Smiler have a lot in common. Mike sighed and chewed on his inner lip.
But that day had not only changed Dave, whose spirit seemed a whole lot lighter when he at last opened up to Mike and Tony and got everything off his chest. He had finally started to smile. It had also changed Mike, bringing a darker element to his soul when he found out how his friend had suffered.
Tony, though, Mike thought, he had known love and lost it, one dark, rainy night when his parents' car had crashed into a lorry on the M1. Tony had sobbed as he’d told his tale to them, one summer night when they were camping in Aunt May’s garden.
Mike sighed. No way could Tony be involved with the bastards. Don’t care how much evidence points his way, there has to be an explanation. And one way or another I’m going to get it.
Rising, he moved to the counter and paid the bill, then went outside, nodding at the old couple as he passed them. Standing on the corner outside the café, he lit a cigarette and stared up at Tony’s window.
Where are you? he thought. And just how deep into this bloody shit are you?
He threw the finished cigarette away. As he did so, the light in Tony’s apartment went on. 'How the hell did he get past me?' Mike wondered, as he quickly crossed the road and entered the building.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
Shelly tried to scramble up as the guard turned to help her. He took her arm, and began pulling her up.
Inside she was shaking, terrified in case the insulin hadn’t worked. But suddenly he let go of her and started to sway. His knees gave way first -then slowly, silently, he started to crumple. When he came face to face with Shelly, he was totally disorientated, but for a brief moment he looked into her eyes and knew her.
Quickly, she made it to her feet and walked away, just as the driver came running round the car to see what had happened.
Dear me, she thought with a smile. That poor man must have had a heart attack.
Happens all the time!
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
Evan sat on his favourite chair, staring at the blank TV screen, wondering where the hell Danny was, staring for long minutes at the photograph he held in his hand of the smiling Alicia. He kissed the photograph, before pressing it against his heart. A single tear ran down his face, and that was all it took. Suddenly he was sobbing his heart out.
‘Where are you, Danny?’ he shouted, throwing a cup from the coffee table in front of him at the wall, where it shattered on impact spewing dark brown liquid over the wall. It seemed everywhere he looked in the flat, all he could see was Alicia.
‘Can't stand it... For fuck’s sake, Danny, hurry up. Got to get out of here.’
Danny was on his way to Evan’s flat, running about ten minutes late, having been back to his own flat to change out of the too-tight black suit into jeans and navy blue shirt. He had packed an extra pair of jeans, underwear and a couple of t-shirts in his holdall, just as Evan had said to do.
He was all for going after Shelly as Evan wanted, but couldn’t help but think that it was far too soon.
And so un-Evanlike, he thought, passing the bench where, only a week ago, the milkman had woken him into a totally different world from the one he’d fallen asleep in.
Evan is the calm one, the wait and see what happens one, and now he’s got crackerjack me traipsing off on a wild goose chase!
He’s not thinking straight. The poor sod hasn’t even had time to grieve yet.
Passing the local fish and chip shop, the smell lured him through the door. Some nice cod and chips for supper before we set off to wherever the hell we’re going to. Bloody lovely.
The owner, a tall, bald headed man, was stirring the chips around in the fryer when he looked up and saw Danny in the small queue of four or five people. He dropped the scoop, and for a moment his jaw also dropped. Watching this, Danny felt prickles run over his scalp. What’s up with him, like?
<
br /> Oh God! He’s gonna kick off big time. I just know it. The smell of trouble had replaced that of the fish and chips. Danny put his head down. All he wanted was his supper.
Suddenly the manager leaned over the counter and said loudly, ’What the hell are you doing out on the streets, useless bastard? After what you did to that poor lass Alicia, they should have thrown away the fucking key.’
Aghast, Danny muttered, ‘It wasn’t me.’ Swallowing hard, he said again, more loudly, ‘Honest, it wasn’t me.’
‘So it wasn’t you running along the street the other day yelling your fucking head off, saying she’s dead?’
‘Well…well, yes, but----’
Suddenly everyone in the shop tried to get away from Danny as if he was carrying some horrendous plague, and piled into the corner.
‘Honest, it wasn’t me.’ He implored the people to believe him. ‘I just found her in my bed. Why can’t you believe me? I had enough trouble with the friggin' coppers.’
One of the customers, a young girl with a ginger ponytail, muttered, ‘Creep.’ The other customers, four of them young men, mouthed their agreement.
‘Go on, piss off outta here,’ the manager said, with a sideways toss of his head in the direction of the door. ‘Don’t know how you’re even out on the streets. Bloody disgrace.’
‘So it is,’ an old woman said, poking her head out from behind one of the young men.
Danny began to back away. ’I only wanted some fish and chips,’ he muttered, frowning at them all.
‘Well, you’re not getting any here, so piss off. And I’m calling the cops now.’
‘Disgraceful.’ The old woman popped her head out again. ’It's not safe on the streets any more, with the likes of lunatics like you running around.’
Distraught Danny yelled, ‘I’ve told you it wasn’t me. I just found her didn’t I.’
‘Well, that’s not what I heard. An animal wouldn’t do what you did to that poor girl. Get out.’
Shaking his head, Danny walked out of the door. As he took one step outside, he swung back and yelled, ‘Shove yer fish and chips up yer fucking arse.’
Holy Island Trilogy 02 - Nowhere Man Page 12
