Melissa hugged herself with one arm as she walked, her other hand busy with a cigarette. She strode confidently, with a young woman’s athleticism and vigour. A dove-grey scattering of cloud hid the sun briefly, but the temperature continued to climb and the sky still retained a good deal of moisture. A light wind blew our way across the still water, flushing Mel’s smooth cheeks.
“I never met Cassie Dawson, and I don’t know a lot about what went wrong between her and Ray. They were childhood sweethearts, from what I understand, even though she was the daughter of a lesser rival. Their union brought the two families together, or so I was told. But from what I can gather, Cassie had an affair and Ray found out. The marriage ended badly.”
“She must have fought for her kid though, right?”
“At first.” Melissa nodded, casting a swift glance at the child, who remained enthralled by the wildlife. “But when Ray wanted something he usually got it. There were a number of threats, apparently. Enough to make Cassie step back. That wasn’t enough for Ray, though, and he dragged her through the courts to prove she was an unfit mother. He bought a few witnesses to her so-called drink and drugs habits and of course the sleeping around. The end result was that Cassie was allowed to see Charlie only at Ray’s discretion. Which meant hardly ever.”
“That must have been hard for her to take.”
“It would be for most mothers.”
“And then she died. Cancer, right?”
“Yes, I believe so. She moved to the south of France and died there.”
From my time at the newspaper, I knew of Ray Dawson’s failed marriage, but was hearing these specific details for the first time. “How do you know even that much?” I asked. “You said you knew little of what went on with the business, yet you were aware of some of his criminal activities, and now these issues with the kid’s mother. You appear to know a lot more than you first let on.”
“Most of what I know comes from Roger, really. He’s been with the family for many years, right from the very beginning, and he opened up to me now and again. He and I got on really well, and he was always around the house.”
I knew exactly who Roger was, and he was no mere chauffeur. He was someone Ray trusted implicitly, a man close to everything sordid the Dawson family were involved with. The name had come up from time to time, although we had never been able to nail down Roger’s precise standing within the organisation. I now wondered whether his absence last night was something other than a simple coincidence.
“Is there really no way we can get in touch with Roger?” I asked.
Melissa shook her head. “Again, I’ve never had cause to call him, so I don’t know his number. I have no idea where he lives, other than it was within a short drive from us.”
“Which pretty much leaves us back at square one.”
I glanced across at her. “None of this put you off working for Dawson?” I asked. “The way he treated his wife, the way he cheated in order to keep Charlie to himself?”
Melissa frowned, perhaps reflecting on her decision. “Taking care of Charlie was and is my job. I love it. By the time I found out what Ray had done, I was in too deep. Charlie had worked her way into my heart.”
She stopped walking, calling out for Charlie not to stray too far away. A caravan of cyclists eased past, a nuclear family bedecked in the finest safety equipment money could buy. Rather too much garish lycra for my taste. I watched them head along a path that led away from the river towards a housing estate.
My attention was drawn abruptly back to Melissa when she suddenly took hold of my arm. She looked horrified. “What is it?” I asked. “What’s wrong?”
“Don’t look now, but there’s a man moving alongside us by the river. I’m sure he has been in step with us ever since we got here. Every time I’ve looked over towards him, I’ve caught him turning his head away sharply, as if he’d been looking straight at us but didn’t want us to know.”
I nodded and licked my lips. In an exaggerated manner I stretched and yawned and took in our surroundings, which included the man by the water’s edge. He was not looking at either us or Charlie, but I thought I recognised him from the entrance we had used. He was dressed casually, and from what I could tell was a little portly and out of shape. I had to assume that if we had been spotted by the authorities they would have come in with armed officers to take us down. If this man had any interest in us at all, I was betting it had to be as a member of the public who had somehow recognised us.
“Let’s move on,” I said to Mel. “Keep it steady, just as we have been all along. Carry on talking and just act naturally. I’ll keep an eye on him.”
“Okay. I’m probably completely wrong, anyway. Just nervous I suppose. So, what do we do after we’ve met up with your friend?” Her turn to probe.
“I’m really not sure. For all the idea scares the crap out of me, Chris Dawson still seems the most likely route through all this. Even after Susan gets our story on the record and makes her editor aware, I’m not convinced we can put any faith in going directly to the police. And the NCA are to be avoided at all costs. I just need to figure out how Dawson can put things right for us. Or even if he can.”
She appeared to give that some thought, eventually nodding. “You may be right. But why do you think telling our story to your friend’s newspaper won’t help? Once we have, you could let them find you a good solicitor, and then we hand ourselves in to the local police. That way there will be no chance for any investigation to be carried out on the quiet. Without representation. They will have to do it by the book, including investigating the officer who killed Ray.”
“I don’t have your faith in either the power of the press, or the UK justice system, Mel. That Hendricks character is obviously no fool. He would consider all the same options we are. If I were him, by now I would have planted all kinds of evidence, have any number of witnesses lined up just in case. A man who can shoot and kill a major crime boss is capable of anything. My bet is that if we walk in and give ourselves up, no matter what our story, he will have an alibi for himself and we will have all kinds of fingers pointing back at us. We’d look like fools. Worse, liars. And worst of all, murderers. Either separately or, more likely, together.”
“But they can’t put the two of us together before last night. You have no reason to murder Ray, and nor do I. I don’t see how they could imply anything of the sort.”
I had been asking myself the same thing. I’d come up dry. “Me neither, to be honest. But I don’t want to find out from a position of weakness. Do you? Sitting in a cell is no place to realise they hold all the best cards.”
Melissa nodded and gave a long sigh. She pulled out another cigarette and lit up. It seemed to relax her immediately. “I suppose you’re right. How about your friend, Susan? Do you think she can find out what’s being said, about how the investigation is being handled? At least that way we will know as much as possible, and we can judge from that what to do next.”
“It can’t hurt. Once we’ve filled her in with the details, once we have a way to contact Dawson, and once we know more about the investigation against us, we can figure out the next step. As for who can be trusted, I think we have to go back to the beginning, to what started this whole shitty business for us.”
“What do you mean?” She looked up, regarding me with interest.
“I mean, who stood to gain from Ray Dawson’s death?”
“What does that matter? We know the NCA killed him.”
I nodded quickly, spurred on now by the paths my thoughts were travelling. “Yes, that officer shot Ray. But he didn’t do it just because he wanted him dead. I don’t see what he stood to gain from that fact alone. No, my guess is he was paid by someone. It was a hit. Pure and simple. The question is, who paid? Who has the most to gain from Ray no longer being around?”
Charlie came running up to us, which kept our conversation in check for a while.
“Did you see me with the ducks, Mel?” she asked, a
lmost breathless and completely giddy with excitement.
Melissa bent forward and ran a hand through Charlie’s hair. Her smile was broad and unreserved. “I did sweetheart. They’re lovely, aren’t they?”
I took the opportunity to check on our suspected shadow. As I turned my head our eyes met. He did not look away. His only reaction was a slight raise of the eyebrows, followed by a nod and a smile. The kind of thing you do when it’s a gorgeous day and you encounter other people. I replied in kind.
My attention was snagged by the kid as she posed the same question to me. I asked her whether she preferred the ducks or the swans. After a full thirty seconds of deep consideration, she decided she liked them both equally. I told her I agreed. Ducks and swans rocked. Charlie bounced up and down on her tip-toes, enthusiastically begging us to go down to the water with her.
“In a few minutes,” Melissa told her. “You go on and enjoy yourself. But don’t go right up to the edge.”
The kid trotted and skipped back her way back to the river. We watched her go, and I felt a tug of emotion. Wendy and I had often fed the ducks together, always choosing the same shaky wooden bridge over a narrowing of the lake close to our home. During our visits we gave names to the ducks and swans, and I had always regarded those times as my fondest memories.
“I just had a visual encounter with the bloke you mentioned,” I told Mel. “I’m not saying for sure that we’re in the clear, but I think he’s just out for a walk like we are.”
“Why did he keep turning away when I caught him looking?”
“Perhaps he’s attracted to you. He’s on his own, sees a pretty young woman… sneaks a few peeks and gets embarrassed when he gets caught out. It’s been known to happen.”
“Are you kidding? Have you seen the state of me?”
“You look fine.”
“Fine but not good?”
I smiled. “You look okay. That’s all you get from me.”
“I suppose that will have to do then.”
She smiled back at me. It was a nice moment.
16
“So where were we anyway?” Melissa asked.
I thought about it for a moment. “I was wondering who had the most to gain from Ray’s murder.”
“Right. As we discussed before, Ray had enemies. Other criminals who wanted part of his business, or whose business he’d previously taken. I heard him talking to Chris one day about the various gangs trying to muscle in on their turf. Having rivals was considered par for the course. And in that line of work, they could be people who would turn violent.”
She tilted her head to the side, her long straight hair falling across her cheek. The sunlight and fresh warm air were improving her demeanour, but nonetheless Melissa looked weary.
We had been alternating between walking at a gentle pace and standing still every time one of us wanted to make a point. This time it was my turn, and I lingered where we stood. Melissa was correct in everything she said, but I wasn’t seeing this as a gangland hit. I breathed in some of that clean air and said, “The local thugs would have done their own dirty work, because they love thinking of themselves as gangsters shooting up the town. Thing is, strange as it might sound, I can’t see it being one of his enemies. Killing Ray leaves Chris as head of the family, and from what I know and what you’ve confirmed, Chris Dawson is much more of a hothead than his brother. Ray talked first, acted when words did no good. Chris does it pretty much the other way around. No, the way I see things, the Dawsons’ enemies would rather have kept Ray in place.”
“Then maybe they’re gunning for Chris as well.”
I shook my head, having previously given that some thought. “If they were going to do that they would make sure the two brothers were hit at the same time. Doing it this way puts Chris on his guard, allows him to hole up and tool up.”
Melissa gave a slight chuckle. Her eyes fixed upon mine. She took a long draw from her cigarette, but did not release a great deal of smoke. “Now you’re sounding like a bit of a villain yourself,” she said.
“I know the lingo. I’ve been around enough of them in my time.”
“When you were a journalist, you mean?”
“Yeah. That and growing up. Back in London. I was raised in the Whitechapel area, and the place was wall-to-wall villains. Not all big time, of course, but there were a few people I knew who became faces.”
“Faces?” Mel threw me a puzzled glance. We started walking again, both keeping Charlie within view, the kid subconsciously moving along to our rhythm.
Grinning now, I shrugged. “Just a saying. It’s what London villains became known as. And there were plenty of them.”
“Sounds as if you are from your own ‘hood’. Were you ever involved? Even slightly.”
I hadn’t been. Not really. I’d done a bit here and there, mostly when I was a kid. Strictly chicken feed. Cars, mainly. The money and the glamour was enticing, but it was far too dangerous a living for my liking. Then there were my parents, who would have nothing to do with that sort of life. My dad didn’t beat his chest or put his foot down or anything like that; he just made me see the error of my ways with sound common sense and non-judgemental dialogue. Both my mum and dad had been pretty stoical people. They allowed me enough time to make my own decisions, albeit drumming into me every day their own beliefs and morals. I said as much to Melissa.
“They sound like lovely people. Caring.”
“They were. I put them through a lot. They never got to see the worst of my drinking, but they were around for the beginning of it. They were never anything but supportive.”
“You must miss them terribly.”
I nodded. “Very much so. You’re in a similar boat, of course. Estranged, in your case. Were you not close to your parents?”
“Not really. Not as much as I would have liked.”
“But you have a brother, right?”
Melissa smiled. This time it hit her eyes. “I do. At least, I hope I do. He could be anywhere. Anything could have happened to him.”
“You never know, this publicity might draw him out.”
“I hope so, Mike. I really do.” Then she swiftly changed the subject. “So, you were talking about growing up in and around a criminal environment.”
I told her a little about how my background gave me an insight, and a little access to the London underworld in particular. It was partly why I could not imagine any of the Dawsons’ competitors being responsible for what happened.
We came to a halt once more as the path we were on met another that set off at an angle and led over a bridge, back towards town. I glanced around, happy to see that the man who had been keeping pace with us had opted for a seat on a bench, his attention fully on the river. Mel checked on Charlie, who was lost in her own world down by the riverbank. She watched the girl in silence for a few seconds, then said, “So, what if it’s actually far more simple? I know you said otherwise, but what if that NCA guy Hendricks just wanted to get rid of Ray?”
I wedged my hands in my pockets. “I don’t know what to tell you, Mel. I doubt it. I just don’t see it that way. It makes little sense to me. Unless it’s purely personal, then surely better the devil you know. Hendricks may well have been getting the run-around from Ray over the years, but Chris taking over would be a damn sight worse.”
Then it struck me. So forcefully that I couldn’t imagine why it had not occurred to me before. There was one person who stood to gain a tremendous amount from Ray Dawson’s murder. I turned to look at Melissa.
“How well did they get on?” I asked. “Ray and Chris? You said you didn’t see Chris much, which suggests their meetings were probably mainly business. Was there any animosity between the two of them? Any disputes?”
“Not that I know of. Wait a minute, you think Chris…?” The shake of her head was resolute. “No. No way. Why would you even consider that?”
Because power can be overwhelming. The lust for it even more so. I had seen it many times before.<
br />
“Ray was head of the family by virtue of the fact that he was the eldest, and when their old man died in prison it was the natural move. It always seemed to me that Chris Dawson wanted to do more, to be involved with other things, to expand the business and take on other firms. Ray was mostly content with what they had.”
“I still don’t see Chris paying some cop to kill his own brother.”
“A hit’s a hit, no matter who takes the money. Plus, it makes an awful lot of sense if the guy who does the killing is also allowed to run the resulting investigation.”
“But they were brothers.”
“Yeah, and ever since Cain and Abel, brothers have been known to disagree, Mel. Sometimes with violent consequences.”
Melissa looked over at the kid, gazed out across the river, then turned back to me. “I understand what you’re saying. I do. And yes, in some twisted way it may even make sense. I just can’t see him hurting Charlie that way, making her an orphan in the process.”
I made no reply. I wondered how much Melissa was prepared to face the reality of our situation. Part of me thought I should leave her in blissful ignorance, but in the end, I thought she deserved to know how bad things might really be.
“Mel, what do you think Hendricks was going to do once Ray was dead? You think he was going to just drive away afterwards and risk you identifying him as the shooter?”
I could tell by the startled look on her face that she had not given that any thought. Now she was, and I could almost see the blood drain from her smooth skin. She shook it off quickly, though.
“Then Chris didn’t set it up,” she said defiantly. “He wouldn’t do that to Charlie.”
“Are you sure? Is there a possibility the kid will inherit Ray’s money, plus a share of the business when she’s old enough? Might there be a will out there that says just that? Power, control and money are strong motives, don’t you think?”
“No. I’m telling you straight, Chris is not a nice guy, but he’s not that evil.”
Scream Blue Murder: an action-packed thriller Page 11
