It was the most horrendous thing Carl and Joe had ever seen or heard, and they both knew that the images would stay in their heads for ever. But Eddie was fascinated – a bit too fascinated, Clive realised when he glanced up after a few minutes and caught Eddie filming him on his mobile.
‘What the fuck are you playing at?’ he bellowed.
‘Aw, quit moaning,’ Eddie scoffed. ‘You’re not even in it – look.’ He turned the mobile around and showed it to him.
‘You can see my hand,’ Clive protested. ‘And my trainer.’
‘Some fingers and the toe of a trainer,’ Eddie corrected him. ‘No one’s gonna know it’s you from that, you knob.’
‘Yeah, well, you still shouldn’t be doing it,’ Clive admonished him. ‘It’s disrespectful.’
‘Disrespectful?’ Eddie repeated, laughing wildly. ‘Fuck, man, have you actually seen what you’re doing?’
‘Just quit it,’ Clive warned him.
Smirking, Eddie slotted the phone back into his pocket and prodded Joe in the gut with the gun. ‘See that?’ He nodded towards Clive. ‘That’s what you call loyalty. Now get over there,’ he ordered, gesturing towards the chair. ‘I said MOVE!’ he roared, grabbing Joe by the front of his jacket when he didn’t immediately obey and hurling him across the room.
‘Aw, man, come on, there’s no need for this,’ Carl blurted out. ‘He’s done nowt wrong. What’s up with you?’
Eddie lashed out, smashing Carl across the back of his head with the gun. ‘Open your mouth again and I’ll blow your fucking brains out!’ he warned.
Turning back to Joe now, Eddie kicked him in the back of the knees to make him sit down. Then, snatching up the rope that Fred had placed on the second chair, he tossed it to Carl. ‘Tie him up.’
‘Why?’ Carl moaned, rubbing at his head and giving him a confused look. ‘What’s he done?’
‘He’s a copper,’ Eddie informed him, his gaze riveted to Joe to gauge his reaction.
‘Don’t talk shit,’ Carl said with conviction. ‘He’s one of us, man. Through and through.’
‘Yeah, that’s what I used to think,’ Eddie said, slamming the gun into Joe’s temple and staring down at him. ‘But that was before Daz recognised him.’
‘Daz?’ Carl pulled a face. ‘What’s that two-faced cunt got to do with anything? He don’t even know Joe.’
‘Oh, but he does,’ Eddie hissed. ‘You see, it seems he saw our friend here having a drink with some of his five-o mates over in Wigan earlier tonight. Isn’t that right, Joey boy?’
Keeping his cool, Joe shook his head. ‘I’ve got no idea why he’d be telling you something like that, considering I’ve never even met him. But I’ve heard enough about him to wonder why a smart man like you would take his word over mine when I’ve shown you nothing but loyalty.’
‘That’s right,’ Carl agreed. ‘Joe’s one of the best. You can trust him with your life. I do.’
‘If I want your opinion I’ll ask for it,’ Eddie spat. ‘Now tie him up.’
‘Aw, come on,’ Carl said, resisting Eddie’s orders. ‘Don’t do this. Daz is a fucking liar, you know that. He’ll have made it up ’cos he’s jealous of Joe taking his place on the crew.’
‘Thirty seconds,’ Eddie warned. ‘And then you know what’ll happen, don’t you?’ He flicked a pointed glance towards the dog.
Reminded of the night when Eddie had set the dog on Daz, Carl turned pale.
‘Twenty-seven . . .’ Eddie drawled.
‘Just do as he says,’ Joe told Carl, seeing the terror in his eyes.
‘Oh, man, this is so wrong,’ Carl groaned, his hands shaking so badly that he dropped the rope twice before he managed to loop it around Joe’s wrists.
Circling the chair when his prey was bound, Eddie said, ‘So, come on, Joe . . . let’s have the truth. And we’ll start with your real name, shall we?’
‘You know my real name,’ Joe replied, bracing himself in anticipation of the blows that he knew were about to come.
‘Wrong answer,’ Eddie said, lashing him across the face with the gun. ‘Try again.’
‘Aw, Jeezus, man, don’t!’ Carl yelped, crying now as he watched the blood spurt from Joe’s broken nose.
‘Real name?’ Eddie repeated.
‘Joe . . . Weeks,’ Joe said, his eyes swimming with tears of pain.
‘Wrong again,’ Eddie snarled, slamming the butt of the gun down between Joe’s legs now. Grinning with satisfaction when Joe screamed, Eddie circled the chair, giving his victim time to recover the power of speech. ‘Ready to tell the truth yet?’ he asked then.
‘I am telling the truth,’ Joe sobbed.
Eddie tut-tutted. ‘I really thought you knew me better than this,’ he drawled, shaking his head as if he was scolding a disobedient child. ‘If there’s one thing I hate more than a thief, it’s a liar. At least you can hide your shit to stop a thief getting their hands on it, but you never know where you are with a liar. That’s why you cunts have sniffer dogs, isn’t it? ’Cos you know they can suss out a liar from miles off. They smell the fear, sniff their way right through the bullshit. Like my dog here . . .’
‘Please don’t, Eddie,’ Carl moaned when he unlooped the dog’s lead and walked the animal over to Joe.
‘Last chance,’ Eddie said, smirking down at Joe.
Joe’s breath was coming in ragged gasps now. ‘I’m telling the truth,’ he insisted.
‘Can’t say I didn’t give you a fair chance,’ Eddie said as he released the dog.
It whimpered, and then lay down with its head on its paws.
‘Get up, you pussy fuck!’ Eddie commanded, booting the dog in its ribs. He let out a roar of rage when it yelped and tried to slither between Joe’s feet to hide under the chair. Then he dragged it out by its back legs and started to kick it around the room.
‘Pack it in!’ Clive bellowed, leaving what he was doing and rushing at him. ‘Look what you’ve fucking done, man!’
Breathing heavily, Eddie looked down at the bloody mess twitching at his feet. The dog’s legs were clearly broken, and there was a deep indentation in its side where its ribs had punctured its lung.
‘This is her fucking fault for softening it up with all that fucking stroking!’ Eddie hissed. Then, his eyes glinting with pure madness, he turned on Joe. ‘And yours, you cockeyed twat. Only she ain’t here to pay for it so you’ll have to pay double, won’t you?’ He aimed the gun at Joe’s leg and fired it.
‘Fucking hell, man!’ Clive complained, holding his ears as the sound of the shot reverberated off the walls and clanged off the metal shutters. ‘You could have give us some warning!’
But Eddie wasn’t done yet, and he blasted a hole in Joe’s other leg.
‘ENOUGH!’ Clive yelled. ‘This is getting way out of hand.’
‘No, it ain’t – it’s only just started,’ Eddie told him.
‘You shouldn’t have done that,’ Fred said quietly. ‘You should’ve waited till you were finished here, then took him somewhere else. This wasn’t part of the deal, so I’m out of here. You can finish it off by yourselves.’
‘No one’s going nowhere until the cunt tells me what I want to hear,’ Eddie said, his voice icy as he levelled the gun at Fred now.
‘What you gonna do – shoot me as well?’ Fred asked.
Staring him straight in the eye, Eddie said, ‘Don’t test me old man. Don’t fucking test me.’
28
As he stood on the slip road, Daz felt as if his legs and his thumb had frozen solid. By the time he finally got a lift his teeth were chattering wildly. He climbed into the front passenger seat and nodded a thank-you at the driver.
‘Where you headed?’ the man asked, pulling off the hard shoulder and easing onto the motorway.
Daz’s mouth was numb but he somehow managed to tell him that he was going to Wigan.
‘Now there’s a blast from the past,’ the man said, smiling nostalgically. ‘Used to go to the pier, back
in the day. Wigan Casino, greatest place ever, that. That, and the Twisted Wheel. All-nighter, followed by a trip to Blackpool for the all-dayer. Man, they were the days.’
Glancing at the man out of the side of his eye as he prattled on about all the drugs him and his mates used to take to keep them up all night – which made Daz’s own intake sound like kids’ stuff – Daz sized him up. He was middle-aged and obviously some sort of travelling salesman, judging by the smart suit jacket hanging from the hook above the back door and the expensive shirt and tie he was wearing. Soft fuck, if ever Daz had seen one.
Forty minutes later, during which time he hadn’t stopped talking, the man eased to a stop on the hard shoulder and sighed.
‘This do you?’
‘Yeah, it’s great,’ Daz said, able to speak now that he was warm. Unbuckling his seat belt, he made as if to open his door. Then, twisting around, he slammed his elbow into the man’s overactive mouth before throwing an arm around his neck.
‘Wallet,’ he snarled.
Blood pouring from his split lip, the man tugged his wallet out of his pocket and handed it over without argument. But there was a comical mix of shock and betrayal in his eyes, a disbelief that Daz had turned on him after they’d had such a great conversation.
Daz emptied the wallet and tossed it onto the floor. Then, spotting the man’s phone plugged into the cigarette-lighter socket, he wrenched out the charger lead and jumped out of the car before running up the grass verge and disappearing before the man had a chance to recover his wits and think about chasing him.
Slowing to a walk, he glanced back and saw the car tearing back onto the motorway. He smirked to himself. Served the cunt right for being so trusting.
Still fuming about the way he’d been so unceremoniously warned to leave town after having gone to so much trouble to help Eddie out, Daz slid the man’s phone open and dialled 999.
He told the operator to connect him to the police and waited until an officer came on the line. Then he said, ‘Just thought you might like to know that Eddie Quinn is about to kill one of your lot. That’s Eddie Quinn,’ he repeated slowly to make sure that the man had got it. ‘And the copper’s name is Joe. And they both live on the Grange estate in Ardwick. But I’d hurry if I was you ’cos it won’t be the first time Eddie Quinn has offed someone.’
Disconnecting the call when the officer asked for his name, Daz tossed the phone into the grass and carried on walking. But he had a spring in his step now, and a smile of satisfaction on his lips.
No second chances for me, eh, Eddie? Well, none for you neither, you cunt!
29
Cheryl didn’t usually set off until around nine, but she left the flat at seven this morning because her mum had asked if she could take Frankie to his playgroup. Which was fine by Cheryl because she had a ton of washing to do and had promised to pop in to see Molly before lunch. And then she’d arranged to meet up with Vee for a spot of retail therapy – albeit only of the window-shopping variety because, as usual, she was flat broke.
She took the lift up to the fourth floor to get Molly’s cat out of the way before she set off and frowned when she reached into the plant pot to find the key lying flat under a thin layer of soil. She always shoved it in point down and made sure that it was well covered. But if somebody had found it and used it to break in, would they really have bothered to put it back?
Telling herself that it was more likely that she’d been more careless about it than usual yesterday because she’d been in a rush, Cheryl unlocked the door and wheeled the pram into the hallway. But immediately she was in, the hairs on the back of her neck began to bristle. She’d been coming in here for weeks and had come to recognise the strange atmosphere that was unique to an empty home: the stillness of the undisturbed air, the lack of fresh body odour. But it felt different today, and there was a faint perfumy scent in the air.
She whispered at Frankie to stay quiet and crept down the hall to take a peek into the living room. At first glance everything appeared to be as she’d left it. But then Cheryl noticed that the curtains had been drawn almost all the way across, and she knew then that somebody had definitely been here because she only ever came during daylight hours and had never touched the curtains.
And where was the cat?
Cheryl went into the kitchen, her frown deepening as she looked around for the animal. By now it would usually be sitting by its bowl, giving her dirty looks as it waited for its food. But it was nowhere to be seen. And there was a cup that hadn’t been there yesterday, standing upside down on the draining board.
Cheryl wondered if Molly had discharged herself from hospital and come home without telling her. It seemed like the most logical explanation but she wouldn’t relax until she knew for sure. So, easing the cutlery drawer open, she slid out a knife. Gripping it firmly and holding it out in front of her, she went back out into the hall and peeked into the bathroom before going to the bedroom.
The door was slightly ajar, and when she neared it she heard the soft sound of breathing coming from inside.
‘Molly?’ she whispered, pushing the door open and approaching the bed on tiptoe. ‘What are you doing coming home without . . .’ Trailing off when she saw the dark hair on the pillow, she gasped. Then, anger replacing the shock, she yelled, ‘Oi, what the hell are you doing in here?’ Seizing the blanket, she yanked it off, her fury increasing when she saw who was lying beneath it. ‘You cheeky bitch!’
Katya’s eyes flew open and she gazed up at Cheryl in horror.
‘How dare you break in here and make yourself comfortable like this!’ Cheryl yelled. ‘Get out!’
‘Please, you’ve got it all wrong,’ Katya spluttered, scrabbling to sit up without squashing the cat that was curled up beside her. ‘I-I didn’t break in. I used the key.’
‘And that makes it all right, does it?’ Cheryl snorted. ‘Well, let’s see if the police think it’s all right, shall we?’ She pulled her mobile out of her pocket.
‘No, please, wait! You don’t understand,’ Katya cried. ‘Joe . . .’ Trailing off when she realised what she’d said, she clamped her mouth shut and gazed up at Cheryl wide-eyed.
Narrowing her own eyes, Cheryl said, ‘What’s Joe got to do with this?’
Katya shook her head. Then, dropping her feet down to the floor, she reached for her boots. ‘I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have come here. I’ll go.’
‘Oh no, you won’t,’ Cheryl said firmly, standing between her and the door to stop her from leaving. ‘Not until you’ve told me exactly what you’re doing here, and what Joe’s got to do with it. How do you even know him, anyway?’
Katya sighed and clasped her hands together, gripping them between her knees. ‘I can’t tell you,’ she said quietly. ‘Please, just accept that it is better that you don’t know and let me go.’
‘No chance.’ Cheryl shook her head. ‘You either tell me or you tell the police – your choice.’
‘I can’t,’ Katya insisted, tears sliding down her cheeks now.
‘Right, fine,’ Cheryl snapped. ‘I’ll just go and ask Joe, then.’
‘No!’ Katya blurted out. ‘Leave him out of this. Please, I’m begging you. You don’t understand how dangerous this will be for him.’
Cheryl breathed in deeply and stared down at her. ‘All right, I won’t get Joe. But only ’cos he’s my friend and I don’t want you dragging him into whatever mess you’ve got yourself into. But I still want to know what’s going on, or I will call the police.’
Katya squeezed her eyes shut and nodded. ‘Okay, but will you let me go when I’ve told you?’
‘I’ll decide that when I’ve heard what you’ve got to say,’ Cheryl said, folding her arms. ‘So come on – let’s have it.’
Taking a deep breath, Katya told her everything.
When she’d finished, Cheryl sat down on the bed beside her with a deep frown on her face.
‘So, you’re telling me that Joe’s been coming to see you for weeks? And you�
��re the one who phoned the ambulance for Chrissie last night?’
‘Yes.’ Katya nodded.
‘But if you and your friends had just escaped, why would you come back?’ Cheryl asked. ‘I can’t believe anyone would be that stupid. Not if it was as bad as you reckon.’
‘I had to,’ Katya insisted. ‘She was hurt. And then I couldn’t get away because the police were everywhere.’
Cheryl struggled to get it straight in her mind. It sounded like some kind of novel, and she wasn’t sure whether she believed a word of it. She’d known Eddie for years and knew that he was a lot of things – but a vicious pimp? That just didn’t sit right with her at all. He might be violent with other men, but she’d never seen him touch a woman in anger like that. And she couldn’t believe that Chrissie would allow him to mess about with other women like that, either, never mind with prostitutes. And yet this girl was claiming that Chrissie had known all along, and had actively participated in their imprisonment.
‘Do you see now why I need to leave?’ Katya asked quietly.
‘It’s broad daylight,’ Cheryl reminded her. Then, sighing softly, she stood up and said, ‘Look, just stay put. I’m going to have a word with Joe.’
‘No, please don’t,’ Katya implored.
‘If he’s helping you like you claim he is, then he needs to know I’ve found you,’ Cheryl told her. ‘It’s all very well you being here but you obviously can’t stay. And if you’re telling the truth about Eddie, Joe needs to get you out of here before Eddie finds out. And he will, because he’s got eyes and ears everywhere.’
‘I don’t want to cause Joe any more trouble,’ Katya protested, crying softly again. ‘He’s been too kind already.’
‘Too right he has,’ Cheryl muttered, a little jealous that Joe had spent so much time with the girl, and that he obviously cared enough about her that he would put himself in danger with Eddie to protect her.
The Driver Page 25
