The Silent Man: A British Detective Crime Thriller (The Harvey Stone Crime Thriller Series Book 1)

by J. D. Weston

  Harvey thought about what he might say. He wasn’t a man of words. His skill was with his hands. A battle of words against John Cartwright would end in failure, so Harvey chose to say as little as possible as seldom as possible.

  “You want me to make peace with Donny so he can take over from you and you can retire?”

  “One day, yes, Harvey. I do.”

  “You want me to shake his hand so he can start his new life without feeling my shadow over him? Without feeling like a disappointment?”

  “Yes,” said John, as if Harvey had solved a riddle that had been staring him in the face.

  “Okay,” said Harvey.

  “Okay? Is that it?” said John.

  “What do you want me to say? I’ll do it. I’ll do it for you and that’s it.”

  John nodded. He knew he would get no more than that from Harvey.

  “Good. Thank you, Harvey. That means the world to me.”

  Harvey didn’t reply, and behind him came the measured footsteps of Sergio and the slow, methodical steps of Julios. Harvey would recognise the sound of his footsteps anywhere.

  Julios came to stand beside Harvey. The big man’s shoulders were level with Harvey’s face, and despite Harvey’s strength and abilities, the shadow he lived beneath belonged to Julios.

  John, reignited with Harvey’s promise, sank his drink, and as Sergio placed Harvey’s water on the desk, John offered Sergio his empty glass to refill.

  “Right, Julios, Harvey, today is a big day. In less than an hour, this garden will be filled with people. There’ll be a band, thirty catering staff, and about two hundred family friends who want to send Donny off. It’s going to be the perfect day, and for that to happen, I need my two most trusted and capable men to manage security.”

  Harvey nodded. He could think of little worse than having to mingle with whoever it was that John had invited. The distraction of work would be a welcome one.

  “One last thing,” said John, as Julios and Harvey made to leave. They turned as Sergio entered the room carrying two bags.

  “What’s this?” said Harvey, knowing the answer before John had even opened his mouth.

  “Suits,” said John. “The finest suits money can buy. Sergio will help you with your ties if you don’t know how.”

  Chapter Five

  Unshaven and yawning, Myers pulled up outside the home that he’d worked so hard for and then given away. The deep lines etched around his eyes and across his forehead were the scars of that hard work and were all that now belonged to him.

  He’d rushed out of the house. Of course he’d rushed, and he’d cursed himself for rushing. He cursed at the way she only had to open her mouth and the world seemed to fall into her lap. He wasn’t doing it for Alison. That’s what he had to tell himself. He was doing it for Harriet. And why wouldn’t he? She was his daughter. She didn’t belong to Darren. She belonged to him. She was his flesh and blood.

  He honked the horn for the second time and those thoughts of love and affection for his only child began to blur into the ever-ready curses that seemed to breed in his throat.

  He thought of the half-empty coffee he’d left on the kitchen side and even contemplated stopping by a coffee shop on the way to Harriet’s school, but the detour would take too long, and Harriet would be rushing.

  “Where are you?” he whispered to himself, and he was about to honk for a third time when the front door opened. Harriet appeared, and although the front door hid her from view, Alison was there. Her outline was framed in the frosted glass that Myers had paid for, and the colour of her pale flesh showed through. He pictured the short summer dress that he couldn’t see but knew she would be wearing.

  Harriet ambled down the front path, rummaging in her bag for something, then waved to Myers as she grew closer.

  “In your own time, Harriet,” Myers whispered. “Just like your mum.”

  The passenger door opened, and Harriet climbed in.

  “I’m late,” she said.

  “I can sense the urgency,” said Myers. “Do I at least get a good morning?”

  She leaned over and kissed him on the cheek, then rubbed her lips.

  “Don’t you shave anymore?”

  Myers indicated to pull out and checked his mirror.

  “Usually. When I’m not dropping off my ill-mannered daughter, that is.”

  “What? I’m not ill-mannered.”

  Myers raised his hand to thank the driver behind and caught a glimpse of Harriet’s shoes.

  “What happened to the shoes I bought you?”

  “Nothing,” said Harriet. “I just wanted to wear these.”

  “They look brand new.”

  “Darren bought them for me.”

  “Darren? Why is Darren buying you shoes?”

  “He’s my stepdad.”

  “Not yet he’s not. He’s got my house and my wife, at least let me hang onto my daughter.”

  “They’re just shoes, Dad.”

  “Well,” said Myers, feeling a molehill swell to the realms of a mountain. “If you need shoes, ask me. If you need anything, ask me.”

  Myers slowed for a red light and rolled to a stop.

  “Whatever,” she mumbled.

  “I mean it, Harriet.”

  “Okay. Okay.”

  “I’m sorry. I know I nag. It’s hard.”

  Harriet said nothing. She stared out of the window at the car beside them, waiting for the lights to turn green. Myers followed her gaze and saw the driver, a young Asian man wearing a cap and a hooded sweatshirt.

  Harriet’s eyes closed as she saw what her father saw.

  “Dad, don’t-”

  “He’s not wearing a seat belt.”

  “It doesn’t matter. Please. Not while I’m in the car.”

  Myers laughed. “Oh, come on. Do you honestly think I’d pull him up with you in the car? Give me a bit more credibility than that.”

  The lights turned green and the Asian boy accelerated. Myers took his time to release the brake and ease away from the lights, much to the annoyance of the car behind who had initially let him out of the turning.

  “Can’t we just get on?” he said. “I don’t see you often. It would be nice to get on with you when I do see you. We used to have fun, didn’t we?”

  Harriet said nothing. She lifted her bag to her lap and began to rummage around inside. The bag was brown check with gold coloured fasteners and fittings. Myers recognised the brand.

  “Where did you get that bag?”

  “It was a gift,” said Harriet, and dropped it to her feet to get it out of Myers’ sight.

  “A gift. Is it real?”

  “I don’t know. Probably not.”

  “It looks real. Who bought you that?”

  Harriet turned, and finally met his stare.

  “It was Darren, wasn’t it?” said Myers, shaking his head. “Well, to be honest, I’m not surprised he can afford to buy you shoes and bags. I paid for his house so he must have plenty of spare cash.”

  “Actually, no. It wasn’t Darren. A friend gave it to me.”

  “A friend? That’s a three-hundred-pound bag, Harriet.”

  “Dad, don’t start. This is why it’s so hard.”

  “From now on, Harriet, if you want something, you ask me. Is that understood?”

  “Whatever, Dad,” said Harriet, and turned her head away to peer out of the window.

  “Are you tired, Harriet? Are you sleeping okay?”

  “I’m sleeping fine, Dad.”

  “What about school? How are you dealing with the pressure? Exams are soon. Are you ready? Are you worried?”

  “I’m dealing with it, Dad.”

  “You look tired, sweetheart. There are bags under your eyes.”

  “I’m okay.”

  “Are you sure? Maybe you need a weekend away with your old man.” He tried to inject a bit of fun into his inquisitive tone.

  “I don’t need anything, Dad. I just want to be left alone.”r />
  “Okay, but if you need to talk or if you need help-”

  “Yeah, got it, Dad.”

  Harriet said nothing more, and with the school ahead, Myers slowed and indicated to pull over.

  “I’ll pick you up at three thirty,” said Myers.

  “Don’t bother yourself,” she replied. “I’m going to a friend’s house.”

  Harriet opened the door and was climbing out when Myers grabbed her arm.

  “Aren’t you going to say goodbye?” he asked. “Do you need me to come in and explain why you’re late?” But Harriet just looked away, snatched her arm back, and just as the door was being slammed, Myers called out, “I love you, Harriet.”

  She didn’t look back. She didn’t even look upset.

  Myers slammed his hand on the steering wheel. It was nine thirty and the street was void of kids. Harriet disappeared around the corner into the school and Myers buried his face in his hands, frustrated.

  “She’s just like her mum,” he whispered to himself, then laughed. “How the bloody hell am I supposed to get on with my daughter when she’s just like her mum?”

  He indicated, selected drive, and then pulled out of the parking space and into the path of an oncoming refuse truck.

  Chapter Six

  The meeting with John Cartwright had taken less than thirty minutes. In that time, the workforce had doubled, and they now moved as if somebody had taken charge and cracked a few whips. From the top step of the grand entrance, Harvey stood beside Julios, surveying the grounds. The property had a single entrance and exit, and the perimeter fencing was secured with a combination of barbed wire, electric cattle fencing, and, in places of prominence, a few cameras. The cameras had never been used. The one time the electric fence and barbed wire had done their job had been years before when a burglar had found himself trapped on top of the fence, cut to shreds. Harvey had been alerted by the man’s screams during the night and by the time he’d found the man in the dark, John had gotten there first.

  There was a mean streak inside John and, if Harvey was correct, that was the last time the burglar ever tried to break into a country estate without doing his due diligence. John had helped him down, feigning empathy for the poor man.

  Then he’d turned.

  He’d forced the man to strip naked at gun point, and then held him against the electric fence until he was sure to wake the villagers a mile away. Then, when John was running out of enthusiasm and was sure he had made his point, he’d forced the man to climb back over the barbed wire fence and find his way home with no clothes.

  “We’ll put two men on the gate,” said Julios, and Harvey wondered if he had recalled the time with the burglar too. The night most likely was lodged in the burglar’s mind for eternity. He would never forget the agony of the electric fence and razor wire and most likely still carried the scars.

  But for Harvey and Julios, it was a time they barely considered. It was nothing compared to what they were asked to do on an almost weekly basis.

  “Sergio has a guest list,” said Harvey. “But what about all these?” He gestured at the workforce, who were busy building the set of what was to be John’s proudest moment.

  “I asked him the same thing,” said Julios. “He would appreciate it if we could gain control of the situation.”

  “He hasn’t got a clue who’s here or how many?”

  Julios said nothing but his silence spoke volumes.

  Harvey spied a man in a suit. He was dressed to impress whoever was paying the bill. But unless that suit was handmade in Saville Row, John would be very much underwhelmed.

  “That’s the wedding planner.”

  “The what?” said Julios.

  “The wedding planner. The man that plans weddings. He’ll be in charge and he’ll have a list.”

  “People pay other people to plan a wedding?” said Julios.

  A rare smile washed over Harvey’s face and for a moment, the two met each other’s stares.

  “Apparently, it’s a stressful job,” said Harvey, and made off down the few steps. “I’ll talk to him. If he hasn’t got a list, he will have in thirty minutes.”

  “Before you go,” said Julios, and the tone shifted like dark clouds encroaching on a blue sky.

  Harvey stopped on the steps.

  “Where were you?” said Julios.

  Harvey didn’t reply.

  “I searched for you yesterday,” said Julios, and he shook his head. “Not a sign of you.”

  They locked stares for a moment. If there was one man who could read Harvey like a book, it was Julios.

  “Just out,” said Harvey, and Julios’ face twitched as he read between the lines.

  Harvey turned away and stepped down to the gravel.

  “Harvey,” another voice called when he had taken just three steps. He recognised the voice and stopped but did not turn. He couldn’t face Julios reading him.

  “John would like to talk to you again,” said Sergio.

  “I’ll be there in a few minutes, Sergio. I’m just doing your job for you.”

  “Thank you, Harvey,” said Sergio. His weak voice and Eastern European accent grated on Harvey at the best of times. “But he wants to talk to you now. He said it is urgent. Perhaps Julios can speak to the wedding planner?”

  He turned and found them both staring at him, Julios reading his every move and the aversion of his eyes, and Sergio clinging to the morsel of power he bore from being charged with delivering John’s wishes.

  Harvey didn’t reply.

  It was Julios who made the first move, breaking the battle of power.

  “I will talk to this wedding planner,” said Julios. “Harvey, you go. See what John wants.”

  “Thank you, Julios,” said Sergio, then raised a single eyebrow at Harvey, turned, and disappeared back into the house.

  “Just keep John happy,” said Julios, as Harvey passed him on the steps. “We’ll talk later.”

  Harvey turned once more and watched the dance of the workers as they carried chairs and boxes around and the set began to take shape. Julios’ massive bulk descended the steps and an odd feeling of betrayal clawed at his gut. He didn’t enjoy lying to Julios. He was, in Harvey’s eyes, Harvey’s only true ally.

  “I’ll come and find you,” said Harvey, acknowledging his mentor’s words. Then he followed Sergio into the house.

  “Close the door,” said John, as Harvey walked into the room without knocking. “Take a seat.”

  Harvey stood in the same spot he had ten minutes before and said nothing.

  “I said, take a seat,” said John without looking up from signing a pile of papers.

  Harvey didn’t move.

  “You can stand there all day for all I care,” said John. “I’m not saying what I have to say without you sitting on your arse in that chair, Harvey.”

  John handed Sergio the signed paperwork, clicked the lid of his Monte Blanc fountain pen into place, and then placed it in the slim pocket inside his jacket breast that he’d had sewn in especially.

  Harvey sighed, dragged the chair back, and dropped into it, watching Sergio try to control the wry grin that grew over his face like the fingers of ivy that penetrated the house.

  “Thanks, Sergio,” said John. “Can you give me ten minutes, please?”

  “I thought I might be a useful-”

  “You’d be useful coordinating all those people outside to make sure this day goes as it should.”

  “But, John, I hired a wedding planner to-”

  “I don’t pay a wedding planner six figures a year. I pay you. If anything goes wrong, Sergio, it’ll be your head on the chopping block, not some wedding planner I’ve never seen before. So, get outside, talk to him, and make sure nothing goes wrong.”

  “Yes, John,” said Sergio, and the ivy withered.

  John waited for the door to close then took a sip of his brandy.

  “I just wanted to say something, Harvey. I might not get another chance before
the day is up.”

  Harvey didn’t reply.

  “I love you both, Harvey. You and Donny. I know you and Hannah were adopted, but you’re just as special to me. If Hannah was here today, I’d be saying the same thing to her. It’s Donny’s wedding day. It’s my proudest moment, Harvey. But I don’t want you to think that I wouldn’t be doing the same for you.”

  Harvey nodded.

  “Come on, Harvey, give me a little more than that. I just opened my heart to you. I know I’m hard on you. I know I can be tough to get along with. But I mean well.”

  “Have you met her?” said Harvey.

  “Who? Julia? Yeah, of course I’ve met her. She’s a cracker, Harvey.”

  “Where’s she from?”

  “I don’t know. Europe somewhere. Donny picked her up at some party with some businessmen he’s been getting to know.”

  “But you had Sergio do some kind of background check on her, right?”

  “Relax, Harvey,” said John, as he gazed through his office window and admired his plan coming together. “She isn’t even bringing her family. Doesn’t have any apparently. Every guest on that list is a friend of the family or a friend of Donny’s, so the only people you need to concern yourself with are the workers.”

  “She doesn’t have a family?”

  “Donny said she was a runaway. He said she lived on the streets. She turned her life around. Wait until you see her, Harvey. Even I was amazed that Donny could end up with her.” John raised a fresh cigar, flipped the lid of his silver-plated Zippo, and sparked the flame. He turned the cigar with care, to provide an even burn. Then the final act of the routine was to blow the thick, grey smoke into the air above him. “It’s going to be a day to remember, Harvey.”

  Chapter Seven

  A single photo had been placed in the centre of Myers’ desk. There were no accompanying notes, files, or history. Just a single photo of the silent man.

  Behind him, the office was brimming with policemen and policewomen. Above the hum of voices, clicking of printers, and tapping keyboards, Myers could hear the whispered chats. He could feel the eyes boring into the back of his head.