A Family Divided (Dividing Line #3)

by Heather Atkinson

  Two men trudged up the drive, both tall and broad, the elder one the DCI. Ryan was glad they were both plain clothes so they wouldn’t scare the kids.

  “Mr Law, DCI Taylor,” he said, extending his hand, which Ryan reluctantly shook. It always went against his nature to be pleasant with police officers. Taylor was a powerful-looking man with a commanding presence, dark brown hair flecked with grey swept back from a large forehead. His eyes were hazel but filled with intelligence, which, in Ryan’s opinion, was a rare quality in a police officer. “This is DS Swift,” he said, indicating the younger man beside him. “Is Mrs Law available to talk to?”

  “Yes but be gentle. She’s still shook up after what happened last night.”

  “Of course, she is the victim here.”

  “Don’t let her hear you call her that,” he said, leading them inside.

  When the three men entered the living room, Rachel got to her feet.

  “Who are they Mummy?” said Leah.

  “They’re just here to discuss some business Sweetheart,” she replied, glancing at Ryan.

  He took the hint. “I think it’s snack time. Why don’t you show me what you want?” he said, gesturing to the kitchen.

  Leah and the two boys leapt to their feet and rushed out of the room, Ryan following and closing the door behind them.

  “How are you feeling Mrs Law?” said Taylor sympathetically.

  “I’m okay and please, call me Rachel.”

  “I’m DCI Taylor and this is DS Swift,” he said, pretending he hadn’t noticed her fluffy bunny pyjamas. “We just need to go over last night again.”

  “I understand. Would you like anything to drink?”

  “No thank you,” replied Taylor.

  She gestured for them to sit and she took the couch while they took the two armchairs.

  “I know it’s a pain but if you could go over last night’s events again,” Taylor said gently.

  Once again she dredged over it all, the events still very vivid in her mind.

  “We did out best to prevent that stampede,” she said, thinking she was going to be in big trouble for that. “But some idiot turned on the lights and when everyone saw the blood they panicked and ran. It wasn’t my staff, they’re too smart to do something so stupid. I think The Slasher switched them on,” she said angrily.

  “We know Mrs Law. You’re fortunate you’ve got such good quality security equipment. The cameras captured it all. You had the situation very well under control and you’re right, The Slasher himself hit the lights purposefully to cause panic. We thought at first it was to aid his escape, your doormen were on the ball. He hung back casually, perhaps to avoid getting stuck in the crush for the door and joined the line heading for the fire exits instead. Then he did something very strange. He was almost out when he turned back and went for you. This is a huge deviation from his usual pattern, as is the fact that he struck on a Friday and not a Saturday.”

  “You think it’s a copycat?”

  “Perhaps. Tell me about the knife again.”

  “It was large with a curved blade, like a hunting knife.”

  “What I’m about to tell you is confidential Rachel, so I trust you’ll keep it to yourself?”

  She nodded her assent.

  “We purposefully kept back details of the knife The Slasher used so we could sort the genuine attacker from the crackpots. The Slasher has always used something small, we think a Stanley knife. Nothing like the weapon you described, another indication that this is a different assailant.”

  “So someone’s read about his exploits and decided they want a bit of the same?”

  “Perhaps,” he said again.

  Rachel decided he was one of those people who didn’t commit himself to a theory unless he was one hundred percent certain.

  “Another possibility is that this was a deliberate attack on yourself.”

  A sense of dread welled up inside her and denial was her instant reaction. “No, I think you’re wrong there.”

  “Just consider it Rachel. You’re not often at the club anymore. On one of the rare occasions you do go in this happens. The assailant targeted one of your clubs and even attempted to attack you. I think this was all designed to hurt not just you personally but your business too.”

  “Who would do that?” she said, feeling her old life catching up with her again.

  “I was hoping you could tell me.”

  “I’ve no idea.” She took exception to his cynical look. “I know you’re aware who I was, but I’m not that person anymore. I’m a legitimate businesswoman now, nothing more. Yes, I have trodden over people in the business world but it’s been purely legal and they aren’t the type of people to do something like this. Could you see his face on the CCTV footage?”

  “No, sorry. He was either wearing his hood or keeping his head down. So you haven’t upset anyone recently?”

  Rachel thought of Alex then immediately dismissed the idea. “No, not that I’m aware of.”

  “Perhaps you’re right and it was just a copycat, but this attack did seem focused on you.”

  “Or maybe I was just unfortunate enough to be in the wrong place at the wrong time?”

  Taylor gave another perhaps, which seemed to be his favourite word.

  “Tell me straight, am I in trouble for the stampede in the club?”

  “No. There was nothing you could have done to prevent it. People can be silly panicky creatures. You and your staff are to be commended on your actions. No one died, which is a miracle in itself. You’ve got proof on the security footage that you did everything right so if anyone tries suing, which they might, you can tell them to get stuffed.”

  Rachel nodded, relief washing over her.

  “Well, I think I’ve got everything I need for now,” he said, getting to his feet, the DS who had remained silent for the entire interview following suit.

  “Oh, before I go, have you watched the news this morning?” said Taylor.

  “No, we’ve had the kids’ stuff on.”

  “Maybe you should take a look? It seems you’re quite the heroine,” he smiled.

  “I am?”

  “James Ford has been singing your praises from his hospital bed, telling anyone who’ll listen how you saved his life, as has Carrie Jones.”

  “Who?”

  “The man who was crushed and the woman who got slashed and you pulled into the cloakroom. No doubt you’ll be all over the papers too tomorrow. The press got hold of it too late to go to print this morning.”

  “How are James and Carrie?”

  “They’ll be fine and in no small part that’s down to you. Thank you for your time Rachel. We’ll be in touch.”

  She closed the front door behind them, noting the pack of journalists clustered outside the gate, who frantically started snapping when they saw her. She knew she’d have to face them eventually, they wouldn’t give up until she’d given them something but she wasn’t up for it right then, especially not in her pyjamas.

  “How did it go?” Ryan asked her when she padded into the kitchen, the children seated at the table tucking into Cheerios.

  “Fine, there’ll be no comeback,” she said, accepting a mug of coffee from him. “Everything was caught by the CCTV cameras and Taylor said we did everything right. No one was badly hurt either. It could have been a lot worse.”

  “Yes it could,” he said meaningfully.

  Rachel thought of what Taylor had said about her being deliberately targeted, but there was no way she could tell him that in front of the children.

  “I’m going to have my coffee followed by a hot bath then I’ll face that lot out there,” she said.

  “Are you sure you’re up to it?”

  “Yes. It might make them go away.”

  The hot water soothed away the majority of Rachel’s aches and pains, only her back still ached slightly when she’d jarred it after trying to get out of The Slasher’s reach. She dressed carefully in light blue jeans and a
long sleeved black jumper before applying just a light touch of make-up, so she appeared presentable but a little vulnerable, just the image she wanted.

  As she strolled down the drive to the gates Ryan watched from the window with Leah, explaining to her what was going on and Rachel was glad she didn’t have to have that conversation. They didn’t want her hearing it from someone else or seeing it on the television.

  Rachel pressed the button on the inside of the gates, which swung open and the cameras started snapping, journalists calling out their questions.

  “Rachel, how does it feel to be the hero for once?” asked a reporter with a cheeky grin. He was a seasoned journalist with a big mouth but in a funny way, she quite liked him.

  “I think that’s stretching it a bit Luke,” she replied with a wry smile. “There was an incident in Martina’s Bar yesterday evening involving The Slasher that my staff handled with extreme efficiency.”

  “So efficient there was a stampede for the exit?”

  Damn Luke. “That wasn’t their fault. The Slasher switched on the lights to cause panic. There was nothing we could have done to prevent it and they all went above and beyond last night in an attempt to help the injured and steer the rest to safety. Two of my doormen even chased the attacker on foot.”

  “But they didn’t catch him.”

  “Are you saying you could have done better Luke?” she said jovially, eyeing his pot belly, causing the other journalists to titter. “My thoughts are with those injured last night and their families.”

  “Why were the Police just here?” called out Zoe Westerly.

  “For another statement about last night’s events.”

  “Are charges being brought for the stampede that occurred in your club, almost causing the death of James Ford?”

  “No. CCTV footage of events in the club has been reviewed and the Police have said there are no grounds. My staff acted entirely appropriately. The panic was caused by The Slasher himself to aid his escape. Now if you’ll excuse me, I like to spend Saturdays with my family.”

  “Mrs Law, what does your husband think about the attack on you last night?” pressed Zoe.

  Rachel suppressed an irritated sigh, just wanting to scurry back to the safety of the house and spend the rest of the day on the couch. “Naturally he’s not very happy about it.”

  “Does he intend to exact revenge of his own on The Slasher?”

  Rachel feigned innocence. “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “Ryan Law is known for dispensing his own justice. I’d have thought he’d have started an investigation of his own.”

  “It seems to me Ms Westerly that you have watched one too many crime dramas and they have filled your head with melodramatic rubbish. My husband is a law-abiding citizen and will leave the investigating to the Police. That’s all I have to say.”

  They called out more questions but they were only half-hearted, knowing that when Rachel said she had nothing more to say, she meant it. She shut the gate and strode back up to the house, Leah flinging her arms around her the moment she got through the door.

  “Daddy told me what happened last night,” she said, looking up at her with Danny’s big blue eyes. “Are you alright?”

  “I’m fine, there’s nothing to worry about Sweetheart,” she replied, hugging her back for all she was worth. “It was just a naughty man who the Police are going to catch.”

  “You’re not going to the club again tonight, are you?”

  “No. It’ll be closed for a while anyway. I’m staying right here today.”

  “Good.” She clung onto her for a moment longer before saying, “I’m going to draw you a nice picture.” Leah ran over to the small plastic desk they’d set up in the corner precisely for this purpose. Leah loved to draw.

  “How did she take it?” Rachel asked Ryan.

  “Upset at first, but when she saw you put those journalists in their places she was okay. Do you know DCI Taylor is in Alex’s pocket?”

  “No I didn’t. Funny, I wouldn’t have thought he was bent, he seemed so conscientious.”

  “Apparently Sid isn’t the only one with a gambling problem and mounting debts. From what I understand Taylor’s no pushover, not one of Alex’s typical dancing monkeys.”

  “Does it mean anything that he’s been put on this case?”

  “Perhaps not. The club is on his patch and he has been working on The Slasher case.”

  “Oh.” She was a bit disappointed, she’d hoped Alex had pulled some strings for her, it would show he still cared. Although Beth had called, he hadn’t.

  Ryan glanced out of the window. “That lot seem to be packing up and going, your interview did the trick. Come on, let’s get back to our lazy day,” he smiled, holding his arm out to her.

  She smiled back and nestled into him as they returned to the couch, feeling better already.

  Alex sniggered as he watched Stephen Strang pound away at a very bored-looking Katia - the blond Slovakian girl who had smiled at him. She’d quickly got into the routine, learnt it was easier and safer to just do as she was told. Stephen’s fetish was for dressing up as a baby, going as far as to wear a giant nappy, a dummy and a bonnet and Katia seemed to relish spanking him, getting a little of her own back. She was tough and Patti said she showed promise. Katia might be one of the lucky ones who got promoted and helped Patti keep the other girls in line.

  Alex was sat in a secret little cubbyhole of his ‘gentleman’s club’, the room only he, Col and Patti knew existed that was filled with recording equipment and TV screens, linked to cameras in each of the club’s private rooms. He had tapes on each and every one of his clients, just in case they got too big for their boots or he needed to blackmail them into doing him a favour. That had been his main aim in setting up this club, as well as making a pile of money. He had some of the most powerful people in the city in his pocket, and not just men but a couple of women with exotic tastes too.

  “Look at that, she’s already a professional,” grinned Patti As Katia moaned and shuddered in response to Strang’s cry of pleasure, his scrawny body going rigid over hers. “She should be given an Oscar for that acting ‘cos he’s giving her nothing to work with.”

  Patti took a deep drag on her cigarette and blew out a stream of smoke, causing Alex to grimace.

  “Jesus, get that thing away from me. You might not care about getting cancer but I do,” he frowned.

  “Alright, keep your fucking hair on,” she scowled although she did retreat to the back of the room. Alex had heard she’d once been a great beauty and some of her clients had been famous actors and rock stars back in the seventies, but now she was just another haggard, overweight woman. To look at her she could have been someone’s benign grandmother with her flowery dresses, silvery hair pulled back into a bun and rosy cheeks. She constantly carried a patent beige handbag, Hyacinth Bouquet style, slung over her left wrist, complemented by a pair of pristine white gloves. However Patti was a formidable, foul mouthed woman who could floor any man with one punch. The girls were terrified of her, except for the blessed few who helped her run the place. To them she was benevolent and very generous, bestowing her years of wisdom on them and ensuring they weren’t short of a few bob. It seemed Katia was to become one of that elite. Alex loved to watched Katia on the monitor, her body was phenomenal. She was almost as tall as he was with the longest legs he’d ever seen, fully perky breasts and curvy hips. She brought in a lot of money, her beauty drawing men to her like flies. When Strang got to his feet and started cleaning himself up, she rose too and he couldn’t help but admire how lithe and supple she was, experiencing a twinge of lust but he’d never paid for sex in his life and he had no intention of starting now. Beth briefly flickered through his mind. He’d never considered cheating on her before but there was something about the statuesque blond Slovakian that drove him crazy.

  “Bloody hell, will you look at that?” smiled Col when Katia bent over to retrieve her panties, giving them a
perfect view of her peachy backside. Alex shifted in his seat as he experienced a stirring down below.

  “So, have you got plans for this tosser?” said Patti, gesturing to the image of Strang, the fag dangling from her lips flapping as she talked.

  “Oh yes.”

  “What are they?”

  “Mind your own.”

  But it wasn’t Strang who was in Alex’s sights, he was only useful for winding up Rachel and Ryan. Right now it was the man in the private room next door to Strang’s who was beating a skinny black-haired girl, the ball gag in her mouth muffling her cries. The fat bearded creature with the dark eyes full of anger and glee was a city councillor, as were his two friends who were regulars at the club too. If he didn’t want the video of himself beating that girl to be sent to every TV station in the country as well as to the Police he’d do as Alex wanted. He wondered if Rachel and Ryan would still be so keen on playing by the book when they came across the first hitch to their grand plans.

  “Maybe we should get in there?” said Patti, getting worried as the man started to lay into the girl even harder, blood leaking from her nose, both eyes almost swollen shut.

  “Not yet,” said Alex.

  “He’s going to kill her.”

  “He’s just letting off some steam,” said Alex casually.

  “But Afrodita brings in a few grand a night. He’s going to ruin her.”

  “Alright, get in there Col.”

  Col nodded and hurried out of the room and Patti breathed a sigh of relief. It was fortunate she knew just what made Alex Maguire tick - money. But there was something on his mind other than a profit, something that was eating him up inside. Woe betide whoever put that cancer there.

  CHAPTER 6

  Rachel only gave the okay for the Maguires to visit when the journalists at the bottom of her drive had got bored and dispersed, which was the very next day. She was ashamed to admit that she didn’t want them seeing members of the most powerful criminal family in Manchester on her doorstep.

  “How are you Sweetheart?” said Martina the moment she was through the door, sweeping her into a maternal hug and Rachel felt guilty for being ashamed of her. She never used to be.