by Liz Mistry
Lalita wasn’t ready for his fist when it launched at her stomach. It hit her low and hard, winding her so she stumbled backwards, bent double, gasping for air. He stepped back in and grabbing her hair, yanked her head upwards, but Lalita thrust her hand inside her bra retrieving the pepper spray she’d concealed there. Downey had been so convinced by her little-girl-lost act that he’d assumed her only weapons were those in her bag. She’d relied on that. Now, it was time to see if her plan would work. The lid was off, so she sprayed, long and hard, enjoying his yelp, as he began clawing his eyes. Then the backsplash of spray hit her own eyes, stinging her, as tears rolled, unbidden down her cheeks. She hadn’t got the full blast like Downey had, but it was enough to blind her.
Stumbling, she tried to get past, but he stuck out his leg, kicking her legs away from her. She fell on top of him. He was breathing fast and groaning, but he grabbed her neck with one large hand and began to squeeze. Lalita struggled beneath his pincer grip. With one hand she tried to prise his fingers from her neck, as the other tried to reach the knife she’d stuffed down her sock, but he was too strong. She tried to cry out, but she was losing breath fast. Her eyes were blurring, waves of dizziness incapacitating her. What did it matter now anyway? No one would hear her. Visions of her daughters and her grandchildren shimmered in the half-light. Tears rolled down Lalita’s cheeks as her useless hand fluttered to her side and she faded away to nothingness …
Chapter 71
‘Can’t you go any faster?’ Nikki was aware that Saj was driving as fast as he could, but she couldn’t stop herself from urging him on.
But they were nearly there now and despite the adrenaline flooding her body, Nikki’s chest felt about to explode. She dreaded whatever they’d find when they arrived. If Downey had had his way, her mother would be dead. A flash of his sneering, taunting face made Nikki gasp out loud. Remorseless, he would take pleasure from reducing her beautiful mother to a pulp and celebrate the thought that Nikki would be the one to find her. ‘Come on, Saj. Come on.’
Saj soared through an amber light, pushing the boundaries, foot pressed to the floor. ‘We’ll get there Nik. We’ll get there.’
Nikki noted he didn’t use the platitude “in time” and she knew why. Saj was no more certain than she was that they’d get there in time. Archie had sent out a call for any police units in the area to head to Clive’s garage, but she couldn’t rely on that. She closed her eyes, trying to calm herself, but all she could see was her mother’s battered face staring at her from Downey’s car. She cursed herself. She shouldn’t have played Downey’s game. What she should have done was yell to Grayson to phone for backup and then she should have run out of the café to her mum, leaving Downey sitting there.
Her tortured thoughts and useless “what ifs” persisted as Saj screeched into Barkerend Road and within seconds they were pulling into the lane that housed Clive’s garage.
Heart pounding, Nikki barely noticed her surroundings as she freed herself from her seatbelt and stumbled from the still-moving vehicle, before running across to the corrugated metal door. Behind her, Sajid matched her speed and Archie’s yells of ‘Wait, Parekh. Let the SWAT team in first,’ fell on deaf ears. Her mother was inside there and she was going in – no one could prevent her, no one.
She rattled the handle, but the door was locked. Behind her, a thunder of feet approached and as she half turned, a deep voice yelled its warning. ‘Get out the way!’ She’d no sooner jumped to the side than the battering ram burst the door open.
Before anyone else could react, Nikki was through and into the dark space behind. Glancing round, she peered through the grey shadows, looking for her mother. Her senses were on high alert as she took in the evidence of Downey’s presence: food wrappers, chairs in a semi-circle, the heavy smell of fresh smoke and male sweat … and then she saw it.
At the far end of the cavernous space was another door – this one was slightly ajar, a dull yellow glow emanating from it. Despite the heavy weight of guilt pressing down on her, Nikki forced herself to action. She ran to the door and pushed it open, eyes raking the space within, but almost immediately they found the inert figure lying on the concrete floor, face bruised, and swollen, blue-tinged lips, open as if in a final scream and blood pooling all around.
Chapter 72
A door banging roused her and voices drifted to her ears. Lalita didn’t know if they were friend or foe, but it didn’t matter – not now. Not at the last minute. They were too late. But she wouldn’t go down without one final burst. Her hand fluttered to her waistband, all strength nearly gone. Then she thought she heard Nikita’s voice in the distance, far off – urging her on, so she pulled and with her last ounce of strength before she choked to death. She aimed her hidden Taser at Downey and fired. His grip loosened, just enough for Lalita to drag in a lifesaving breath, then the Taser did its job, one of its prongs connecting with his arm. His hands spasmed, tightening round her neck once more, before falling away.
‘You bitch … you little whore.’ Downey’s voice rasped as he tried ineffectually to grab her. Although the Taser hadn’t hit him full on, it was enough for Lalita to crawl out of his reach. With cold determination, tears almost blinding her, Lalita reached down, the movement giving her so much pain she almost vomited. With effort, she pulled her trouser leg up and after a couple of tries managed to pull out the knife she’d concealed in her sock.
Downey was on his knees now, and this was her only chance – her last chance – to end it – once and for all. Forcing herself to grip the knife in both hands, despite the agony from her broken finger, she pulled herself to her feet and standing over Downey, steely-eyed, she spoke, in small spurts, each word punctuated by a pause. ‘This … ends … today.’
Using the last of her strength, she thrust the knife between his shoulder blades. Then as he groaned and tried to roll onto his side, she yanked it out and thrust once more into his side. But, as she went to drag it from the wound once more, the effects of the mild Taser shot he’d received faded and he kicked out at her. Weak, Lalita fell to the floor as Downey yanked the knife from his own wound. His face ghastly white, he still managed to sneer at her. ‘You’re right, Layla. Today is the day it ends for you.’
And, as his men entered, clearly alerted by the noise, he lifted the knife high and stabbed her again … and again … and again, until they heard the sirens in the distance.
As the lifeblood drained from Lalita Parekh, Downey, bleeding and clutching his side, was helped from the room by his friends. Seconds later as she drifted into oblivion, Lalita heard the sound of a car starting up and driving away. She’d lost.
Chapter 73
The paramedics arrived soon after and took her mum to the hospital. She was seriously hurt. The paramedic, whom she knew well from previous incidents, was sympathetic but matter-of-fact. ‘This doesn’t look good, Nikki. She’s lost a lot of blood. Has suffered severe trauma to her throat and may have been deprived of oxygen for some time. She may have internal bleeding from the repeated stab wounds and …’ she put her hand on Nikki’s shoulder, uttering the words Nikki did not want to hear ‘… it’s unlikely she will make it.’
Unable to speak, Nikki nodded her acknowledgement and walked away. Her priority now was finding Downey. Her mother was in the best hands she could be and Nikki was driven by a rage that threatened to immobilise her if she didn’t keep moving, keep thinking. Like an automaton, she phoned Marcus. Her voice emotionless and factual, she relayed what had happened and then left it for him to bear the brunt of the news.
‘Nikki, Nikki …?’
She heard Saj calling her name, but it was dreamlike – not quite real. When he touched her arm, she turned.
‘Nikki, you need to get changed and then go to the hospital. Come on, I’ll take you.’
She looked down at her hands, they were sticky with blood – her mum’s blood. Her jeans and T-shirt were drenched. For the first time, she noticed her T-shirt was on inside out and fr
owned. She’d worn it that way all day and only noticed now, when it was drenched with her mother’s blood.
Her mind flew back to the scene in that garage – when she’d seen her mother lying there, lifeless. She hadn’t cared about the blood, she’d just run right over, knelt beside her mother and checked for vitals. Her heart had stopped beating, but Nikki wouldn’t give in. She started pumping her mother’s chest, willing her heart to kick in. ‘Come on, Mum, come on. You can’t let that bastard win now.’
She’d still been doing compressions, Saj blowing air into her mother’s lips, when the paramedics arrived.
Thrusting the memory aside, her lip quivered, so she bit down hard on it. She couldn’t lose it. Not now. She had to find Downey.
‘Thanks, Saj, I’d like to get changed, but then we’re going after Downey. Marcus will look after everyone. My job is to find Downey.’
Saj looked like he wanted to argue, but as Nikki walked over to his Jag, he shrugged, moved over to tell Archie what the score was and then drove Nikki home to change.
*
The shower was too hot – but at the same time not hot enough. Head bowed, Nikki let the scalding water pummel her, watching the blood turn pink as it circled the plughole before disappearing. When it finally ran clear, she switched it off, dried herself and pulled her hair into a damp ponytail, before dressing in jeans and T-shirt and heading downstairs.
Predictably, Saj had made tea – sugary tea – and despite herself, she smiled and took the cup. After one sip that landed in her stomach like a rock, she shuddered and placed it back on the table. ‘Any sightings? Anything? CCTV?’
‘Not a damn dickey bird. It’s like he’s disappeared off the face of the earth. Who knows if he’s even still in Bradford?’
‘I saw cameras on the garage premises.’
‘Yep – disabled – I wonder why. We got nothing, Nik. We don’t even know what car he left in. Springer sent the heavies to pressurise his known contacts again, but so far – zilch.’ He paused. ‘I’ve even got Ali on the case. If there’s anything to be found, we can rely on him to find it. He feels guilty as shit over what happened to your mum.’
Nikki brushed that last statement away. She’d no time for other people’s guilt – not until they’d caught him. Picking up her jacket, she headed for the door, avoiding Saj’s eyes when she asked, ‘Any word from the hospital?’
‘No change, Nikki. They’re operating on your mum now.’
Until his response, Nikki hadn’t been aware she’d been holding her breath. Now, she released it before saying, ‘Let’s go find Downey.’
Chapter 74
Turns out Flower Hill is some sort of place for folk past their sell-by date. Lots of white bungalows dotted around with trees and flowers and all sorts. It’s fenced off from the main street, with a long drive, winding round, but I find an entrance near the top – a shortcut for those strong enough to walk up to the row of shops at the top. I see a few doddering old fools strolling up the hill, probably using their last breath to take them up there, but I can’t go into the complex – not while it’s light. I’d stand out like a sore thumb. So, I’ve no option but to wait till it’s dark.
I head off down the road. There’s a park at the bottom, so I can always sit on a bench and have a bevvy before going back up the hill. I nip into the off-licence on the way down and buy a few cans and a meal deal. Then, I head down to the park. Lister Park, it’s called. Looks nice – quite a busy little place, but I find a bench near the top where it’s quieter and eat my sandwich, washing it down with a few beers. I need to find out exactly which of those white pebble-dashed houses belongs to my target, so I can make my plans. I finish the last dregs of my fourth can and pack the other two in my rucksack for later and then I wander over to some bushes and have a piss. Trust my luck though, some stupid Paki lady with a horde of kids sees me and mouths off. I nearly let her have it, but just in time, I draw back. Can’t risk drawing any more attention to myself than I’ve done already. Should’ve checked to make sure I was alone before relieving myself – rookie mistake, but I won’t make that again.
It’s getting dark now and the streetlights come on, casting a nice little glow into the park. It’s time for me to head back up the hill and scope out the old man. I hoist my rucksack onto my back, and, enjoying the slight buzz as the alcohol fizzes through me, I set off. By the time I reach Flower Hill, most of the houses have their curtains drawn, lights casting silhouettes behind them. I hesitate by the top gate, looking around for activity in the complex, but it’s dead. The only sounds are the creaking of bird feeders moving in the slight breeze and the rustle of leaves in the trees. I edge down the path, eyes darting from side to side. I try to make sense of the door numbers. They’re all higgledy-piggledy and it takes me ages to find the one I want, but finally I do and I’m in luck. The old bloke’s house is in the centre of the hill with a few houses around it, but what’s good about that location is the huge chestnut tree that has branches reaching as far as his small walled-off bin area. Perfect for me to keep watch.
It looks like this is the back of the house, because although there’s a light on, it seems to be coming from down a corridor. Should I risk peering in the window? Sod it! Why not? I deposit my rucksack under the chestnut tree and take out my weapon – best to be prepared. There’s no one around; the whole place feels like a graveyard, so I creep forward. Excitement and anticipation send tingles up my spine as I get closer and closer. Oh, this is such a good feeling.
I’m nearly there at his back door when the outdoor light flicks on. I stand still as I hear the lock disengaging and then … he’s there. Right in front of me, a rubbish bag in his hands. This is too damn good to be true. He’s not looking at me – his attention is focused on the job in hand. A shiver goes up my spine. Dare I? I grin. Course I do – I’m the man, after all.
I creep forward, glad I brought my weapon. Pays to be prepared – and I’m nothing if not prepared. He doesn’t notice a damn thing till I’m almost right in front of him. He looks up startled, his eyes behind his milk-bottle specs, huge and owly. I raise my arm, screwdriver ready but, as it descends, the old man turns to the side and I end up nicking his arm. Still, I push onwards, using my body weight to force him backwards and into his kitchen. As he falls to the floor, I grin, raise my arm again, enjoying the anticipation. One more stab and he’ll be pliant. This one gets him in the belly. I turn, ready to slam the door shut, but there’s a figure blocking it. Panic makes me take a step back and then, barely registering that this figure, like me, is hooded, I slam the screwdriver towards him too, but I miss as he sidesteps. Bastard! I see his fists rise and I barrel my way past him. Taking to my heels, I run like the wind, pissed off and furious that my plans are scuppered. Who the fuck was that?
Getting my breath back, I call Elvis Taxis – Elvis? Who the hell calls their taxi firm after a dead hamburger-addicted singer? As I wait far enough away so as not to be conspicuous, I ponder on the presence of the other hooded stranger. A burglar? Probably. In fact, quite likely. Everyone knows those old folks stash their life savings under their beds, don’t they? As I get into the taxi, the sirens approach and I wonder who found Mr Moretti and, more importantly, if he’ll bleed out before the paramedics arrive.
Chapter 75
Nikki had to keep moving. If she stopped, she’d collapse into the darkness of grief and there was no time for that – not till she had Downey. Not till he was no longer a worry for them. They were driving towards Eccleshill, when her phone rang. Nikki was glaring out the window, scrutinising everyone they passed, hoping that by some fluke she might spot Downey in the sea of unfamiliar faces. Desperate for information; a sighting of Downey – anything that brought them closer to the man who had injured her mum so badly. With a quick glance at Saj, she grabbed her phone from the Jag’s dashboard, trying to still the rush of hope that tumbled inside her belly. The number was unfamiliar to her, and she was on the point of sending it to voicemail, suspecting it was
one of the cold calls she’d been plagued by recently, when she reconsidered. It could be one of Downey’s mates, calling back – reconsidering their stance on giving the coppers info on their mate.
Switching to speakerphone she answered. ‘Hallo, DS Parekh here.’
The voice on the phone was vaguely familiar, but very hesitant and Nikki crossed her fingers, hoping this was their big break – that this person would take them a step closer to Downey. That all the hours of pounding the streets had finally paid off.
‘You said to phone you. Anytime day or night, if I had any information.’
Nikki exhaled quietly, and bit her lip. The caller sounded ready to hang up and Nikki had to be careful. She needed to bring this person on board. Despite her impatience – her anguish – Nikki pasted a smile on her face and hoped it shone down the line. ‘Of course, I’m always available for information. Can I ask who’s speaking and what information you have?’
‘It’s Daniel. Daniel Lammie …’ His voice trailed off. A slight hitch in the last word told Nikki the man was near to tears.
She frowned. Lammie. Who the hell was that? Saj touched her arm and mouthed: ‘Liam Flynn’s partner.’
Shit, how could she have forgotten? So caught up in the quest to locate Downey, she’d put the rest of the investigation to the back of her mind. However, right at that precise moment, the last thing Nikki wanted was to be distracted by a distraught and grieving partner, who might have nothing important for her. Before she could fob him off with a call back later or by redirecting him to Springer, an image of his face as he sobbed for the tragic loss of his boyfriend came to her. Swallowing her impatience, Nikki said, ‘How can I help you Daniel?’
