‘How well did you know our Sean?’ she asked.
He smiled. ‘We did a few runs together…’ He paused as he judged her expression. ‘But the least said about that the better. He was a cheery wee guy, that’s what I remember most. Was always the sparkiest person in the room. Him and Danny were a riot when they got together. A proper double act.’ His smile softened. ‘Poor bastard.’ He twisted in his seat to face her. ‘And the polis never listened to you? That must have been murder, darling. Pun intended.’
‘It was hellish and my name’s Cara.’ She turned in her seat to meet his gaze, her expression a request for him to start talking.
He took the hint. ‘Right. Stan.’ He pointed at himself. Studied her. ‘You sure you want to hear this, Cara? It wisnae nice.’
‘I think I’ve heard the worse of it already, Stan. Please. Just tell me what you know.’
‘Right.’ He faced ahead and looked out of the window as if he was gathering his recollections into some kind of order. ‘We didn’t work for the Gadds. We worked for another mob – best if I don’t mention any names – who are in competition with those boys. Sean was paid to run young Christopher off the road in retaliation for something Gadd did. Just a warning, you know? But, with Sean and Danny, you got one, you got both. Sean was driving but. And they were just supposed to break the boy’s leg or something, not kill him.’ He grimaced. ‘Poor bastard’s head hit the kerb and he clocked out.’
Cara thought about Paula, thought about the Gadds, and wondered how much she really knew about all of this. She felt a sudden pang of sympathy for her.
‘For yonks nobody knew nuthin’,’ Stan went on. ‘It was officially a hit-and-run – and Sean thought he was free and clear, you know. For ages. Then he started talking about it. The eejit even said to one of his mates – when he was stoned, to be fair – that he’d got away with murder.’
‘Christ,’ said Cara, closing her eyes against his stupidity.
‘We heard Bill went totally off the rails after Chris died. He was still dealing, like, but apparently he had a strong case of the guilts cos he loved that boy as if he was his own. Found some peace on the pills and in the bottle. Then, eventually, the truth made it back to him.’ He winced. ‘And the rest is history.’
‘So, Danny was there when Sean was beaten?’
‘Aye.’
‘But why wait till now to kill Danny? Why not do them both at the same time?’ Cara couldn’t believe she’d asked such a question. As if gang murder was a regular part of her life.
‘Bill’s missus – a bit of a porker by all accounts – she wanted them both killed…’
‘Daphne Gadd was there – when Bill beat up Sean?’
‘Danny said she was going mental. She was totally egging Bill on. Shouting stuff like…’ Stan adopted a falsetto ‘…“I want every bone on his body broke. I want every injury our Chris had on his bones.” Danny said she was very nearly frothing at the mouth.’
‘How did Danny get away?’
‘The way he tells it … sorry, told it. It was as if Bill sickened himself on poor Sean. Couldn’t handle it anymore and just walked away.’
‘But why kill Danny now?’ Cara repeated.
‘I saw Danny-boy up the town, might have been the week before he was killed. He was out of his nut. He’d been doing well, ken? But something set him back onto the nasties.’ His eyes grew distant as if he was accessing a memory.
‘What?’
‘He said he saw Bill Gadd a few days after the brother died. And Bill Gadd saw him,’ he said the last part with the tone a judge might pass a death sentence.
‘And why was that important? If he didn’t have the stomach for it then, what changed?’
‘Danny and his big gub. He approached Bill and his missus. Told them he’d go to the polis and tell them everything he knew about Sean’s death, and all it would take to keep him quiet was ten grand.’
Ten grand. Cara heard Danny’s mother’s voice. Something about a wedge of cash. And Danny had said something too the last time she’d seen him alive. He really thought they’d stump up.
‘Well, anyway…’ Stan paused. He looked ahead out of the window and for a moment seemed like a different person. Like someone carrying a great weight and purpose, and he didn’t much care who got hurt in the exercise of that purpose. Then his expression lifted and he was Stan the Man again. In that second Cara felt like she got a glimpse into who he really was. Asking more questions might be like drawing a polar bear’s attention to your presence, but she couldn’t help herself.
‘What are you hiding?’ she asked him.
He snorted. Held his hands out. ‘What you see is what you get, darling.’
‘Aye, so you do. You know more about all of this than you’re letting on. What can you tell me, Stan? I’ve been fighting Sean’s corner for years now, on my own. And I was almost getting somewhere. What can you tell me?’
Stan crossed his arms and judging by the tightness in his jaw there was an internal debate being waged. ‘All I’m saying is with Danny they’ve gone too far this time. The people I work with are on it.’
‘Aye, I know the story: the people you work with will sort it and no one will ever hear of it. But I want the truth to be known. The Gadds were up to all sorts and my brother was murdered because of it.’ As she spoke she read his expression, convinced now he was teetering on the edge of something. ‘Please?’ she added. ‘What can you tell me?’
He grunted and pulled his phone from his jacket pocket. ‘I’m not a grass, right? And if this ever – I mean ever – gets back to certain people…’
‘I swear. No one will ever hear anything from me.’
‘Well, that will not do,’ he grinned as if a new approach had just occurred to him, one with greater impact for the people he wanted to hurt. ‘You know what? I’ve changed my mind. You can go to the polis. If that’s what it takes, that’s what it takes.’ His thumbs flashed over the surface. ‘What’s your number?’ She told him and he keyed it in to his phone. ‘Right, there you go.’ He smiled and his look was grim. ‘Danny didn’t deserve to die in a doorway like that. You’ve got a day to get your sense of justice. After that justice goes to the street.’
Cara plucked her phone out of her pocket to access the file that Stan had sent her, and as he kept talking she noticed that she’d missed a text from Paula. She could read it later. This was more important. And now that Stan had released himself from his code of silence, it seemed he couldn’t shut up.
‘The guy in this photo I just sent you? You need to watch him. He’s connected to some big criminal outfit in Eastern Europe. Word is there was a lot of money involved and he was getting help from the Gadds to move it.’
The phone pinged that a message had been received. She opened the message and looked at the picture on her screen.
She knew this guy.
How did she know this guy?
‘Danny said he saw him following him in a big Ford, a Mondeo or something. Danny was bricking it. Said as soon as he got the cash from Bill Gadd, he was going to leg it. Go somewhere warm.’
It was the mention of the car that did it. Cara did know this guy. He was in the backseat of the car that drove past her with Kevin Farrell and Elaine Teenan. And she was sure he was the guy outside her flat in the blue Mondeo who scared Danny off.
‘You get that to the polis, Cara,’ said Stan. ‘And you watch yourself. This guy is in with some Eastern European criminal outfit. He’s Polish, I think. Some kind of enforcer for hire, is what I hear. Whatever he is, he’s a whole new kind of dangerous.’
46
Paula was stunned into immobility. Not believing her eyes. What had she just witnessed? This was real life, not some crime drama on the TV. People didn’t just stab other people. Not in front of their wife, their sister-in-law. Was this a game? Were they using some kind of trick knife?
But the look of surprise and agony on Bill’s face was all too real. His slump to the side and then off the ch
air did not have the look of a careful rehearsal.
And then the blood.
Paula felt a scream escape her throat.
Daphne’s face was frozen in a silent O. Anton was now looking at Paula almost casually, as if to say he was just getting started. Daphne fell forwards on her seat, hands over her face.
Paula’s breathing was coming at her hard as if her lungs were unable to cope with what she’d just witnessed. She wanted to go to Bill but couldn’t make herself move.
‘Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God.’ This hadn’t really happened, had it? ‘Oh my God,’ she repeated. She couldn’t control herself, her thoughts.
Anton straddled Bill and pulled the knife out, and this made a sticky, sucking sound.
‘Jesus,’ she said as shock and fear flooded through her system. ‘Jesus.’
‘Be quiet, woman,’ Anton shouted at her. He wiped the blade on his trousers. ‘You will be next.’
Daphne was still silent, head in her hands. Then, she looked up, face long, eyes showing a morass of emotion, until it settled on a final one.
Fury.
She looked at Anton, her features rigid. ‘What the hell was that? You said we’d wait till later.’
Paula gasped. ‘Later?’ She looked from Daphne to Anton, trying to read what was going on here, but it felt as if she’d lost all knowledge of how humans communicated.
Daphne stood up. Like Bill she had no restraints around her wrists. Both of them sitting with hands behind their back had just been a pose. She ignored Paula and punched Anton on the chest. ‘You said you’d wait till later,’ she said again.
Anton shrugged. ‘The moment was right.’
Daphne turned to look down at Bill, her face now neutral, eyes as cold and glinting. ‘Twenty-six years,’ she said. ‘What a waste.’ She turned to Paula, her body tight with hate. ‘It was always you. From the moment he met you he was besotted. And he was sick that Thomas got in there first…’
‘What are you talking about?’ Paula demanded, her voice cracking.
‘I lost my first baby.’ Daphne’s eyes were vacant. Her mind lost in the past, as if she was counting up her grievances. ‘And Bill was over at yours. You called. The light in your boiler went out and Tommy was away on business. And of course Bill couldn’t wait to be the knight in shining armour.’
‘But…’ Paula tried to recall something of that time, anything that would give context to what Daphne was saying.
‘My second baby – the foetus wasn’t even a month old when I miscarried. Bill showed nothing. Said it wasn’t real for him. All he could talk about was how you bloomed in your pregnancy. I should be more like you, rather than losing all of these children.’
‘Bill said that?’ Was he really that heartless?
‘I’ve hated him from that moment. Hated him. Seeing him lying there…’ she looked over towards where Bill lay, her face a study in disgust ‘…is like a relief.’
Paula shook her head. Hard. As if that motion would remove her from the twilight zone she’d found herself in. But of course when she refocussed, they were all still there: Daphne, Anton and the very still form of Bill Gadd.
Supposing she got out of this alive, what would she tell Joe?
Now Daphne hit Anton again. ‘This wasn’t the right time!’ She might as well have been slamming a fist against the door. Anton took her punishment, then with a tenderness that belied his stature he cupped his enormous left hand against the side of Daphne’s head.
‘We will sort this, my love. First we get money, then we run and get a better life, no?’
Daphne simply looked up at him as he spoke.
‘He had to go…’ He jutted his chin in Bill’s direction. ‘You said so. I just took chance when it came.’
Paula felt numb, removed from everything around her. That woman who was having trouble breathing – it was her. She knew this, but it still felt like it was someone else. She heard a low wail and realised that was her as well.
‘Will somebody check Bill to see how he is,’ she shouted, the words coming from another mouth.
‘Oh, for God’s sake. Shut the dumb bitch up,’ Daphne said.
Anton reached her in two strides. His hand shot out and her face rocked to the side. Pain burst across her face. The wailing stopped, but her breath was still coming in short, panicked gasps.
Daphne squared off to Paula, standing in front of her, feet shoulder width apart as if she was about to take her on and was relishing the prospect.
‘Time to talk, honey,’ Daphne said. ‘Where did Tommy hide the money?’
‘I told you … I don’t … I don’t know where it is.’
‘As you said, you knew your husband best, so you have the best chance of working out where it is. Thing is…’ Daphne cocked her head to the side, ‘you don’t have long to get your thinking cap on, hen.’
Paula’s mind was working hard. How was she going to survive this? The situation was desperate. She needed to focus, and she would perhaps get out of this alive.
‘Is this all because you know about me and Bill the other night?’ Paula asked as her opening salvo. If she could use Daphne’s jealousy against her, she might improve her chances of surviving. ‘It was nothing. Too much drink and a whole lot of grief. We made a horrible mistake. I don’t love Bill. Never even fancied him to be honest. He was just…’ Paula searched for the right word. ‘There. He was just there. And I took him.’
‘Jesus, you are clueless, you sad bitch. I know the other night was nothing. It was me who asked him to do you.’
‘Do me?’ Paula was stunned. ‘What?’ She repeated her question. ‘Do me?’
‘Aye,’ said Daphne, her face an ugly sneer. ‘Do you. Give you a seeing-to. Get his leg over. Play hide the sausage…’
‘Shut up,’ said Paula, looking from Bill to Daphne. ‘You’re disgusting. What kind of people are you?’
‘But Bill came over all chivalrous on us.’ Daphne continued. ‘Pulled out, quite literally at the last second. He couldn’t be so conniving with precious Paula.’
‘You people are…’ Paula ran out of words. She didn’t have the vocabulary for this. Then another thought dropped into her mind. The break-in a few nights before. The person running out of the house. Bill at the door. He was her burglar. He probably had a key. And when he was disturbed he pretended to flee before doing an about-turn to act like he’d just arrived. That was why she didn’t see anyone running away.
What a devious … At least he’d had some shred of decency during that whole situation, not to force himself on her.
‘Whatever,’ said Daphne wearing her pleasure at Paula’s discomfort as if it were a crown. She looked across to Anton. ‘Tie her up and then get the iPad and his phone, will you?’
He nodded, taking instruction from Daphne as if that was the real pattern of their relationship. He walked over to the table, tucked the knife into the waistband of his trousers, picked up the duct tape and attached each of Paula’s arms to the chair. His grip on her was so strong she was like an infant in comparison. The tape was tight around her wrists and she felt her fingers throb as the blood flow was reduced. As he worked his face was inches from hers and his breath was like a foul scalding on her skin.
When he finished Anton handed Daphne the knife, saying, ‘Just in case.’ And in a few long strides he was out of the room.
Paula looked at Daphne. iPad? Then it occurred to her. Thomas would have had it with him at that last meal with Bill. And while his brother was dying, Bill had been callous enough to spot the opportunity. She looked down at his corpse.
Who were these people she’d known most of her life? How could she have not seen their true nature for all these years?
She strained her arms, trying to lift them from their binding. But movement was impossible. Her breathing was too quick, her pulse hammering in her throat as panic threatened to overcome her. Desperately she looked around herself for something, anything, that might help her.
‘We
can go now, Daphne, now that Anton’s out of the room.’ Paula asked, trying to keep the fear out of her voice. ‘I know you’re just trying to keep him happy so he won’t kill you.’
‘Right,’ Daphne shook her head, and her eyes gleamed with the possibility of using the knife. ‘You really are a dumb bitch.’
‘Well, go on, tell me what I’ve missed. If you guys are going to kill me anyway why not send me to the grave knowing what you’ve done?’
At the words ‘kill me anyway’ she saw Daphne half smile as if that was indeed part of the plan. Something loosened in her core and she felt heat and liquid fill her underwear and the crotch of her jeans. Humiliation burned up her neck and face as she heard the urine drip onto the floorboards. Don’t cry, Paula, she told herself. Don’t let this woman think she’s won.
Daphne screwed her nose up at the sharp tang of urine. ‘Oh, Christ you’ve only gone and pissed yourself.’
‘Every mother’s curse is a loose bladder.’ Paula tucked that shame away for later. ‘But you’d know that if you ever managed to have children.’
Daphne reared back. That stung. Just as Paula had intended. She narrowed her eyes. ‘I might not have carried Chris but I was more of a mother to him than you ever were.’
‘Oh for God’s sake. You took him on the odd holiday, how on earth is that being more of a mother.’
Daphne stepped closer and bent down so that her face was level with Paula’s. ‘We got the guy who killed Chris and he went to his grave in the same agony Chris did. We looked after the family. We got it done while you sobbed in the shower, and tried to raise money for people with head injuries.’ She said this last sentence with a sneer, and, looking into her eyes Paula could see nothing of the woman she’d known all these years. There was a calculation there that was barely human, and it was this that chilled her more than anything.
Then Daphne went silent and placed her mouth close to Paula’s ear. Her breath was warm on Paula’s skin and it was all she could do not to rear back. The woman disgusted her and scared her in equal measure.
Daphne breathed.
After He Died Page 28
