by Unknown
Peering at the inspector, the doctor said, ‘Might I ask if this man has ever had a psychiatric evaluation?’
‘No idea,’ Keeton said brusquely, immediately suspecting that Lewis might be trying to pull a fast one and get himself off the charges by claiming diminished responsibility. ‘And to be honest, doc, I’m not interested. If you can just give me the discharge, we’ll be on our way.’
Nodding, the doctor said, ‘As you wish.’
Thanking him, Keeton exhaled tensely as the doctor walked away. Lewis wasn’t seriously hurt – that was all Keeton cared about. But he had seriously hurt at least one copper, and stabbed Larry Logan – which should bring a hefty sentence all of its own. Attempted murder, if Keeton got his way.
10
‘What do you mean, you can’t get me bailed?’ Dex hissed, peering at his solicitor across the interview-room table. ‘What the fuck do I pay you for?’
‘It’s not that easy,’ Keith Hall hissed back, his brow deeply creased as he looked at the cuts and bruises covering Dex’s face. It was a week since Lewis had been arrested at the sham game show, and he still looked terrible. But rather than make him look like a victim of police brutality, it just made him look even more villainous than usual, and Keith was worried that the judge at his client’s pre-trial hearing would take one look and label him a worthless thug.
‘What have they actually got on me?’ Dex asked now.
‘You’re already wanted for jumping bail on the TDA,’ Keith reminded him, ‘so there’s no chance you’ll get bail this time. But that’s the least of your worries, because they’re going after you for aggravated assault of several police officers – which you’ve already got a history of, so that won’t look good either. And then you’ve got the attempted murder of Larry Logan as well.’
‘He deserved it,’ Dex spat, his eyes flashing with a lust for vengeance.
‘Maybe he did,’ Keith retorted impatiently. ‘But not in front of the entire fucking police force and a CCTV camera. How the hell am I supposed to get you out of that?’
‘You don’t get it,’ Dex said quietly. ‘I can’t stay here. They took my DNA.’
‘I know,’ Keith murmured, his gaze darting to the door when he heard a movement outside. Lowering his voice even further, he said, ‘Look, just give me time to get my stuff together, and let me see if I can get a reduction, if not a dismissal, on the grounds of provocation and entrapment. The TDA’s minor compared to that, so we could be looking at only two to three if the other charges get chucked out. But you’ve got to stay cool while I’m working on it, or you won’t stand a chance.’
Slamming both fists down on the table top, Dex said, ‘How the fuck am I supposed to stay cool with these cunts jeering at me through the cell door, telling me what they’d do if they could have two minutes alone with me. Pussy cunts won’t come into the cell alone, though, ’cos they know I’d break their spineless backs in half!’
‘And this is exactly what I’m talking about,’ Keith told him firmly. ‘Carry on like this and you’ll be playing right into their hands. They’re on dodgy ground with the methods they used to effect arrest, and they know it, so they’re going to do their damnedest to wind you up while you’re in custody to make you really lose it.’
‘If you don’t pull your finger out and get me bailed, they’ll get what they’re looking for,’ Dex growled. ‘But it won’t just be assault or attempted murder, it’ll be the real fucking deal. You’ve got to get this sorted now so I can disappear.’
Resting his elbows on the table, Keith clasped his hands together and peered at Dex. He’d known him for almost ten years, and had actually been a mate of his before qualifying and becoming his solicitor, so he knew enough about him to realise that he was hiding something. Dex was smart enough to usually stay a couple of steps ahead of the police, so they’d only had him on relatively minor charges so far. But Keith guessed from his demeanour that there were worse things to be uncovered than the present charges they were levelling at him. And now that the police had his DNA it would be only a matter of time before they found them.
Needing to know what he was dealing with, he said, ‘What are we talking here, Dex?’
‘No details, but it’s bad,’ Dex replied evasively. ‘So just do what you’ve got to do to get me out on bail. Leave the rest to me.’
Nodding, Keith said, ‘I’ll do what I can. But it might take time, and they’re not going to make it easy.’
‘I pay you to make it easy,’ Dex reminded him, giving him a long meaningful look.
‘I said I’ll do what I can,’ Keith repeated tersely.
Nodding, Dex said, ‘Go see me ma when you leave here and make sure the lads have cleared the house out, ’cos I don’t want her dragged into this. And tell our Pat to stay low and get some tickets for somewhere hot, yeah?’
‘Anywhere specific?’ Keith asked, gathering his paperwork together.
‘He’ll know.’
‘Anything else?’
‘Yeah, tell me ma to tell Gaynor to pull all my money in and keep it safe till I get out. She knows where it’s at. You got all that?’
Nodding, Keith stood up. ‘I’ll do my bit, Dex. But you’ve got to do yours – just take it easy till I get back to you, or you’re screwed.’
‘So long as these cunts lay off with the lip,’ Dex replied coldly.
Shaking his head, because Dex truly was his own worst enemy, Keith tapped on the door and told the officer who was standing guard outside that he was leaving.
‘Make it quick,’ Dex called after him, glaring at the young PC as if he’d like to rip his head off his shoulders and stick it as far up his arse as it would go.
An attractive young policewoman was walking hurriedly along the corridor when Keith came out of the interview room. Nodding at her as they passed, he walked on a couple of yards, then stopped when he heard her asking the PC – who was now waiting for back-up to come and help him take Lewis back to his cell – if he’d seen Inspector Keeton. Instincts prickling, Keith casually squatted down and unzipped his briefcase, then rifled through it as if he was looking for something among the papers that it contained.
Telling her that he thought he’d heard the inspector say that he was going to the canteen, the PC tilted his head to one side and watched her as she walked away.
‘Nice arse,’ Keith commented amusedly.
‘Nice everything,’ the PC agreed, with a laddish grin. Then, looking down at the case, ‘Lost something?’
‘Just checking I’ve still got my mobile,’ Keith said, re-zipping the case and straightening up. ‘Can’t be too careful with this lot, can you?’ He cast a meaningful glance at the interview-room door.
‘Not with the likes of him,’ the PC grunted quietly.
Amused that he’d lowered his voice, probably scared that Dex would hear him and kick off, Keith smiled. It was a myth that solicitors and police officers treated each other like enemies. TV coppers and briefs might circle each other like dogs trying to sniff out each others’ weaknesses without revealing their own, but it was just wordplay in reality, and there was rarely any actual animosity. In Keith’s experience, it was better to appear to be leaning more towards the police side of the line, because you learned far more that way.
Glancing at his watch now, he ran a hand through his hair, muttering, ‘Oh, great, I’ve missed my train. Anywhere I can grab a cup of tea in here while I’m waiting?’
‘Canteen’s down there,’ the PC told him, pointing the way. ‘Round the corner, second left. Anyone asks, just tell them Mick Dillon okayed it.’
Thanking him, Keith set off at a casual pace. But he speeded up as soon as he turned the corner in the hopes of being in time to eavesdrop if the woman was telling Keeton anything pertinent to Dex’s case.
Keeton was shovelling the last forkful of lamb curry into his mouth when Keith walked into the canteen, and Carla was just sitting down at his table with the coffee she’d bought herself. The table was situate
d close to the sandwich bar so, keeping his face turned in case the inspector recognised him, Keith walked over to it and pretended to be looking at the display.
‘Gawd, that was hot,’ Keeton said, putting his fork down and wiping his face on a napkin. ‘But you can’t beat a good curry for clearing the sinuses.’ Smacking his lips now, he patted his belly with satisfaction. ‘Right, I’m all yours.’
‘Nothing definite, but we might have a hit,’ Carla told him, sipping on her coffee. ‘Harry flagged up a cold case in Salford from seven years back, and – fingers crossed – Lewis might be a match.’
‘Yes!’ Keeton hissed jubilantly. ‘Is it big enough to nail him, or just something trivial?’
‘Big enough,’ Carla replied, smiling at the look of triumph in his eyes. ‘Remember the gang who broke into the house and tortured the guy who lived there?’
‘Then raped his mother when she heard noises and went to investigate,’ Keeton said, the gleam in his eyes turning to ice. ‘You saying that was him?’
‘Could be.’
Shaking his head, Keeton exhaled loudly. ‘I always knew he was a bastard, but I didn’t think even he was capable of something like that.’
‘Yes, well, we’ll soon know,’ Carla said quietly. ‘But we’ll still have to find the rest of the gang if it was him.’
‘Shouldn’t be too hard to trace them.’
‘From seven years ago?’
‘Old habits die hard,’ Keeton said simply. ‘And we can start with his brothers, because they’re bound to be involved.’ Glancing irritably around now when somebody moved past his chair and brushed his head with their elbow, he glared at Keith’s retreating back and called out sarcastically, ‘Yeah, you’re all right, son, apology accepted.’ Tutting when he got no response, he turned back to Carla. ‘So, when does Harry reckon he’ll know for sure?’
‘Normal speed, or complete rush job?’ Carla asked, smiling again because the inspector had that bit-between-the-teeth look in his eyes.
‘What do you think?’ he said, already mentally rolling up his sleeves in preparation for wiping the Lewis family off the crime map.
Nora Lewis’s hand was shaking when she put the phone down. Her whole body was shaking, in fact, and she felt the ham sandwich she’d just eaten churning in her stomach. Shoving her chair back from the table, she got up and rushed out into the hall, yelling, ‘Patriiiick!’
Flying down the stairs, Patrick saw how pale her face was and thought she was having a stroke or a heart attack or something. Reaching out to her, he said, ‘What’s wrong, Mam? What is it?’
Slapping his hands away, Nora pointed at the boxes of stolen gear that were still stacked in the hall, and said, ‘Shift this.’
‘Jeezus!’ Patrick exhaled loudly. ‘Is that it? I thought you was fucking dying, you silly old cow.’
‘What’s up?’ Nora’s youngest son Jason asked, running down the stairs with Molly close behind.
‘I thought she was snuffing it,’ Patrick told him, rolling his eyes. ‘But she’s only narking about the bleedin’ boxes.’
‘Don’t take the piss out of me,’ Nora snapped, in no mood for games. ‘I want it shifted now! I’ve just had Keith on the phone, and he says they’re gonna hammer our Dex. So, no more messing about, just move it. And you . . .’ She jabbed a finger in Molly’s direction. ‘Get your shoes on and go tell that bitch of his to collect his money from wherever he’s got it stashed, ’cos he needs it all there when he gets out.’
‘Don’t see why I’ve got to tell her,’ Molly grumbled, stomping back up the stairs. ‘She’s got no business knowing where his money is, anyway. None of us know, so why does she?’
‘None of us is happy about it,’ Nora shouted after her. ‘But now’s not the time to play funny buggers, so just do as you’re told.’ Turning to Patrick now, she said, ‘Keith says you’re to go and buy tickets for somewhere hot.’
Patrick stopped in his tracks. For Dex to say something like that, he had to think that he was going to get charged with something heavy and was planning on doing a runner. And if it was coming on top for him, then Patrick would no doubt be getting a tug as well, because he’d been involved in everything that Dex had ever done.
‘Did Keith say what they’re charging him with?’ he asked, needing to know how urgent this was.
‘No idea,’ Nora said, yanking Jason down off the last step and shoving him towards the boxes. ‘He just said it’s bad, and you’ve to clear the house out before we get raided. So quit yakking and get on with it.’
‘Where are we supposed to put it?’ Jason asked, picking up the first stack, a sulky look on his face. He hated being the youngest, because the others used him as a joey and he always got the least when it came to divvying up the money.
‘Shove it in the car,’ Patrick told him, rushing back upstairs. ‘I’ll drop it at Mark’s on me way out.’
‘Mark’s a thieving cunt,’ Jason yelled after him. ‘Why don’t you take it to Keith’s instead? The coppers can’t go searching a solicitor’s gaff.’
‘He ain’t there,’ Nora said, lighting a cigarette and letting it dangle from her lips as she rolled up her sleeves. ‘He’s passing the case over to one of his colleagues, ’cos he’s going on holiday.’
Stepping aside to let Molly pass when she came back down just then, Jason dropped the boxes. ‘What do you mean, he’s going on holiday? He can’t. Our Dex needs him here.’
‘Yeah, well, I thought it was a bit funny an’ all, but that’s what he said,’ Nora muttered, more concerned about clearing the house out than arguing over details. ‘Hurry up and get that bloody car loaded up before I have a flaming stroke, will you? I can’t be doing with all this bother at my age.’
Coming back just then with his and Dex’s passports in his hand, Patrick gave Jason a shove.‘What you been saying to upset her, dickhead?’
‘I ain’t said nowt,’ Jason replied defensively, stooping down to pick up the boxes again. ‘It’s her. She reckons Keith’s going on holiday and passing our Dex on to some other cunt.’
‘Don’t start,’ Nora snapped when Patrick asked her what was going on. ‘You want to pick a fight, give him a ring, or go see him, but don’t keep questioning me, ’cos I’m only the bleedin’ messenger.’
‘I’ll see him, all right,’ Patrick muttered darkly, yanking his jacket off the hook and pulling it on. ‘If he thinks he’s taking off for a fucking sunbathe and leaving me and our Dex in the shit, he’s got another think coming.’
‘You?’ Nora peered at him questioningly. ‘What’s it got to do with you?’
‘Leave it, Mam,’ Patrick muttered, zipping up his jacket.
‘Don’t you try and fob me off,’ Nora snapped, blocking his path as he made to move to the door. ‘I need to know what you’ve been up to so I know what to say when the coppers turn up.’
‘The less you know, the better,’ he said, taking her by the shoulders and moving her gently but firmly out of the way. Pulling his hood up now, he eased the door open and peered out to see if the house was being watched. Satisfied that it was all clear outside, he ran to the car, calling back over his shoulder for Jason to get a move on.
It took Molly twenty minutes to reach her dad’s flat, and she was in a foul mood by the time she got there. She didn’t see why she’d had to walk when her uncle Patrick could have dropped her off. And why did she have to come, anyway, when everyone knew she hated Gaynor’s guts?
She’d never understood what her dad saw in the slag. She was a right vain bitch, always checking herself out in the mirror like she was Miss Fucking World, or something. But she was nothing special in Molly’s opinion: all make-up and expensive clothes – expensive clothes that Molly’s dad had paid for, because Gaynor was too bleeding lazy to earn her own money.
Molly resented her for that, almost as much as she resented her living in the flat while Molly had to share a tidgy room with her cousin at her nan’s. Still, at least her dad had been spending more tim
e at her nan’s since he’d jumped bail, so Molly got to see more of him than Gaynor did. And her nan had refused to let him bring the slag with him, which showed her exactly where she stood with the family – nowhere.
Jamming her key into the lock now, Molly went in and slammed the door behind her. Barging noisily into the living room, she sucked her teeth when she saw Gaynor curled up on the couch, wrapped up in the duvet, watching TV with the curtains shut.
Sighing when she saw who it was, Gaynor reached for the remote and turned the TV volume down. Molly was a living nightmare, and she wished Dex hadn’t given her a key because it was horrible to have someone walk into your home whenever they felt like it. But you couldn’t say a word against Dex’s precious little princess without him kicking off, so Gaynor had no choice but to grit her teeth and bear the little madam. Sometimes she really regretted having given up her own flat to move in here.
‘Your dad’s not called,’ she said now, hoping that Molly would turn round and walk straight back out.
‘I know that,’ Molly spat, not even attempting to keep the hatred out of her voice or eyes.
Frowning, Gaynor sat up. ‘Has he called you?’
‘None of your business,’ Molly sniped, stalking across the room and picking up a bundle of unopened letters that Gaynor had left on the table. Leafing through them, she said, ‘He says you’re to get all his money together as soon as poss and bring it to me nan’s.’ The last bit was a lie, but she didn’t care. If her dad was getting sent down, there was no way this bitch was getting her mitts on his dosh.
‘Leave the mail alone,’ Gaynor told her irritably, swinging her feet down to the floor. ‘It’s private.’
‘It’s me dad’s, and so’s this flat, so I’ll do what I want,’ Molly retorted, eyeing Gaynor’s pyjamas with contempt. It was three in the afternoon, and the dirty cow wasn’t even dressed yet. Defiantly pocketing the letters, she walked back to the door, shouldering past Gaynor who was standing up now.
Resisting the urge to give Molly a long-overdue slap, Gaynor folded her arms. ‘Has he said what they’re charging him with yet?’
