by JL Simpson
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Daisy sat in the pub, waiting. She’d found Solomon’s car parked between a BMW and a Lexus. There was no damage, and no sign of Solomon. Laughter filled the room as the door opened, and a group of youngsters tumbled into the bar. The Wishbone was close to the college. She’d heard via Sherman that the pub had no issue with serving underage people. He’d never revealed how he knew, but he swore he’d never been.
The door opened again, and she turned to see who was coming in. Showtime. A familiar young lad sauntered to the bar and ordered half a pint. She waited until he’d taken his first sip, and then she slid along the bar to stand next to him.
“Hi. Bolton, isn’t it?”
The boy glanced at her. His eyes widened, and he swallowed loudly. “What do you want?”
“Remember me?”
He nodded. “I don’t want any trouble. I heard you were mad.”
She laughed. “I’m as sane as you are.”
“I was just going.” He put his half-empty glass on the bar and glanced at the door.
“Is your little friend coming to join us?
“Gilbertson?” He shook his head. “Been expelled.”
“Really.” Daisy smiled. “Well, Bolton. Where are you off to?”
“I’ve got homework to do.”
“Good.” She slipped her hand into her bag, leaned closer, and whispered. “I think I’ll come with you, and before you say I can’t, I should tell you I’ve got a loaded gun in my bag, and I’m not afraid to pull the trigger.”
Bolton stared at her. She raised an eyebrow. “Time for study. Let’s go.”
She linked arms with him. He glanced at her bag. Without a word he crossed the bar and opened the door. They walked back toward the college in silence. Bolton slowed as they approached the front gate. “How am I supposed to get you inside?”
“You’re a smart boy.”
He blew out a breath and stepped up the pace. The porter at the gate frowned. “Mr. Bolton?”
“You’ve met my French tutor haven’t you? Dad reckons I need to brush up if I’m going to work for the foreign office.”
The porter dipped his head and let fly with a stream of gibberish. Probably French gibberish. Why couldn’t Bolton have said she was his maths tutor? She didn’t speak a word of bloody French. She stuck her elbow in Bolton’s side.
“She’s deaf. Can’t hear a word.”
The porter stared at her. “Really? How does that work?”
Bolton’s laugh was high-pitched and sounded nervous. “Sign language. Latest thing, French sign language.”
They walked through the gates and away from the porter as quickly as she could drag the boy.
“What did you tell him that for? You’re an idiot.”
“No, I’m not. And I don’t think you’ve really got a gun. You’re a nutter.”
“Want me to shoot you and prove it?”
He shook his head. “What are you going to do with me?”
“Nothing, if you help me.”
“What with?”
“If you wanted to hide someone in the school, where would you put them?”
“Underground cellars. Loads of rooms and tunnels. No one ever goes down there. The younger kids think they’re haunted.”
“Show me the way, and then I want you to call the cops. Make sure to tell them a crazy woman is running around the school with a gun, last seen heading into the cellars.”
Bolton took her inside and down a corridor. He opened a door, and she glanced down a narrow flight of steps.
She turned to Bolton. “Now go and make the call and not a word to anyone else.”
He nodded before fleeing back the way they’d just come.”
Daisy was soon making her way down a set of stone steps. There was almost no light, and she had to feel her way, being careful not to miss her footing. She pulled the gun from her bag and took a deep breath. Her hands shook. She’d seen Paul clean his gun dozens of times when he was in the army, but she’d never held a loaded weapon with the intention of using it before. There was no point in carrying it as a deterrent if she couldn’t fire it. She took the safety off and concentrated on keeping her finger away from the trigger. She didn’t want it to go off and kill someone by accident. Heir hunting wasn’t meant to involve shooting people. Hopefully she was way wrong and the basement was empty. She took another half a dozen steps and stopped. She could hear faint sounds in the distance, including a door opening and closing.
She edged along, feeling for the end of the step with her toes. When she only felt solid floor, she pressed against the wall and crept toward the sounds. Using the wall as her guide she moved deeper into the tunnels. Her hand brushed timber and then a doorknob. She pressed her ear to the wood and listened. Nothing. With no idea where Solomon was being held, she’d have to search every room she came across. She turned the handle and the door swung open. If she’d known she’d be searching beneath ground she’d have brought a torch.
Her eyes adjusted to the gloom. As far as she could tell the room was empty. “Solomon?” Even though she whispered her voice sounded much too loud. She stepped back into the corridor and continued her search. The sounds became recognizable as voices. The further she went, the louder they got. There were at least three men.
By the time she got to door number five her heart was pounding and her knees felt weak. The college covered acres of ground, and if the cellars went underneath all of the buildings she could search for days and still find nothing. She turned the handle and pushed the door open.
“Hello?” she whispered.
A moan and scuffle made her clutch her chest and swallow a scream. She crossed the room with her hand out in front of her. Her foot hitting something soft was met with another moan. She dropped to her knees and felt her way up a body. The clothes were not Solomon’s, unless he’d changed. Long hair, might be a woman.
“Are you okay?”
A low moan. She touched the person’s face and discovered tape across their mouth. No wonder they hadn’t replied. “Sorry, this is probably going to hurt.”
She ripped the tape off and the person groaned. “Shit, that stings.”
“Are you hurt?”
“Daisy?”
She moved closer and stared at what little she could see of the captive. “Lord Toby?”
“You got me.”
“I’m not looking for you. Have you seen Solomon? Irish git. Obnoxious personality. Expensive taste in clothing. Last seen by you with my palm print on his face.”
“He’s in a room the other side of the hallway. Three doors down.”
“I’ll untie you and you can help.”
“No can do. I’m handcuffed to a ring in the floor.”
“How many people are down here?”
“Last I saw three men at least. Two of them are armed. They’re one door down from Solomon. Are you alone?”
She nodded. “Yes, but don’t worry. The police are on their way.”
“You should wait.”
“No. I’d rather know Solomon was safe before the shit hits the fan.”
“He really means that much to you? You’d never guess from the way you slapped him.”
“I don’t give a shit about him. I’ve got some questions, and if I don’t like the answers a slap will be the least of his worries. Sit tight.”
“Good luck. If you like I can make some noise. I might be able to distract them long enough for you to get the key to unlock his door. It’s hanging on a peg above the fireplace in the room the men are holed up in.”
“Okay. Thanks. Give me a couple of minutes to hide across the hall and then scream your heart out.”
Daisy slunk across the corridor and two doors down. The handle turned easily and she stepped inside. She edged deeper into the dark and bumped her knee on something solid. She bit back a curse and felt in front of her. Whatever she’d walked into was metal. She found a handle and lifted the lid. The inside filled with light. An unholy
howl sounded down the corridor, and she screamed as a face stared up at her.
She put a hand over her mouth to hold back another scream. Eyes stared back at her. Blank, unseeing eyes. A body. She took a deep breath and looked closer. A freezer full of dead bodies. She slammed the lid shut, bent forward at the waist, and took slow measured breaths, in an effort to steady her stomach and stave off a full-blown panic attack.
Toby howled again, and she darted back to the door as footsteps pounded past her room. She pulled out Solomon’s gun and tossed her bag aside. Once she was in the corridor she ran as quietly as she could to door number four, which stood open, flooding the whole place with light. The key was right where Toby said it should be. She grabbed it before running back to the room where they were holding Solomon.
*
Solomon leapt to his feet. The howling sounded demonic. Were they torturing poor Toby? Maybe they’d worked out who he was and what he’d been doing when he cozied up to Jason and the charity.
Heavy footsteps passed the door to his room. He grabbed the door handle and rattled it, before thumping the heavy wood with his fist. Another set of footsteps, more tentative. They stopped outside his door. The key rattled in the lock.
He grabbed the bucket from the corner of the room and took up position. The door swung open and Solomon saw a gun turn in his direction. He threw the contents of the bucket over his attacker and she screamed. Shoving her aside, he made a dive for the door.
*
“Oh God. Piss.” She was covered in piss. Fuck. Toby must have been in on the whole scam. A body shoved her, and she turned and waved the gun, blindly pulling the trigger. The blast hurt her ears.
Someone shouted, “Fecking hell.” And then there was a loud thump.
“Solomon? Shit. Oh shit.”
Her eyes stung, and she wiped ineffectively at her face with her wet shirt cuff. Had any gone in her mouth? She was going to die from piss poisoning. She dropped the gun and blinked in an effort to get her sight back. Solomon was lying face down in the corridor. One hand clenched his right butt cheek, and blood seeped between his fingers.
The corridor echoed with the sound of footsteps.
“Drop your weapons. We’ve got you surrounded. There’s no way out. This is the police.”
Daisy sank to her hands and knees, and threw up the contents of her stomach.
Chapter Forty
Daisy had showered half a dozen times, but she wasn’t sure her skin would ever feel clean. Even the sharp disinfectant scent of the hospital corridor couldn’t remove the tang of piss from her nostrils. She took a deep breath and stopped outside Solomon’s room. She’d been grilled for hours before the police decided she had no involvement with the whole sick scheme. No one had told her what was going on, or thanked her for solving what was potentially a huge case. Dan had persuaded the bigwigs from London to forget about the gun, although it had been confiscated.
She shoved the door to Solomon’s hospital room open and stepped inside. He grimaced. “Have you come to shoot me in the other arse cheek?”
She crossed the room, leaned her hip against his hospital bed, and smiled. “I guess you and Paul are even now. Besides, you deserved it after throwing piss all over me.”
One corner of Solomon’s mouth turned up in a smile and then he became serious. “Where is Paul?”
“Still at my mam’s. I decided not to tell him about our little adventure yet.”
“Why the feck not? It’ll be in all the evening papers.”
“It would ruin Sherman’s trip to the football. Besides, I need to get it all clear in my head.”
“What’s to get clear? The charity was a front to launder money, but when the funds coming in slowed down Maroni came up with an idea to earn more income.”
“How do you know all that?”
“Dan came to see me. He tells me you found the bodies in the freezer.” Solomon reached out and took her hand in his.
She tugged it free. “Poor bastards. They thought they were getting involved in a scam to cover their gambling debts to Maroni and give money to charity. Instead of pretending to be dead, they were offed by Maroni. Why didn’t they just kill them in the first place?”
“Maybe the dead guys started to have second thoughts. Wanted to turn themselves in.”
Daisy frowned. “If their bodies are stuffed in the freezer who died in their place to begin with?”
“Apparently the bodies of the homeless men had something to do with it.”
Daisy walked across the room and looked out the window. “The charity owns a property and yacht in the Canary Islands. I guess it would be easy enough to get homeless men to say yes to a free holiday and then make it look like they were someone else when they were killed. Doesn’t explain why they were dumping bodies around here though.”
“They were all set to become decoys for other potential victims. They started killing them off and dumping them when the scheme started to unravel. John wasn’t involved, but he started to get suspicious when so many of the policies he’d sold resulted in large claims soon after they were signed up. If Jason had any sense he would have used more than one insurance company, but he thought John wouldn’t do anything because they’d been at school together. Adrian Maroni is singing like a canary, terrified to go to jail, and terrified to stay out and face the wrath of his father. He figured if the dead men were ever identified no one would care as they were homeless. He was the one who put the arm in your car.”
“Why?”
“A message for me. He knew the insurance company was investigating.”
“And the explosion?”
“Jason, worried about us wanting to talk to Maureen. Toby found the tracking device and accused Jason of keeping tabs on him. Jason figured it was me. He saw me at the pub when he met Zut, apparently.”
Daisy turned and looked at him. “The whole thing is horrible. I’m not sure Maureen will ever get over her uncle being murdered by her manager, or that her fiancé turned out to be an undercover cop and a missing lord.”
“At least she has Toby. I’m sure his money and title will help ease her pain once she gets used to the idea, and their baby has a father, thanks to you.”
“I wanted to talk to you about that.”
“About Toby being the father?”
Daisy shook her head. “I know who you are, Ronan Dunlop.”
Solomon stared at her and she waited.
“What did you say?”
“I know your real name is Ronan Dunlop. What I don’t know is why you befriended Paul, and if you’re related, or if it’s just a coincidence,”
Solomon covered his face with his arm. “Shite. You’ve been snooping?”
“So it’s true, then?”
“I can’t tell Paul.”
“Tell Paul what?”
Solomon dropped his arm and stared at her. “I wanted to hate his guts.”
“Why?”
“He’s my brother.”
“How?”
“You’ve got a kid. I’m sure you know how it works.”
Daisy crossed to his bed and glared down at him. “Don’t be a smart-arse. I mean how did Paul’s dad meet your mam?”
“He was a soldier serving during the troubles. Told her he loved her and they’d be married, but when his time was up he went back to England, and she never heard from him again.”
“Did she tell him she was pregnant? Did she try to contact him?”
Solomon shrugged. “He knew about me, but she refused to go after him when he up and left. She was a proud woman and didn’t want a man to stand by her because he felt like he should do the right thing.” He smiled. “You’d have liked her. She was feisty, stubborn, and pigheaded, with a heart big enough to love the world.”
Daisy smiled back, despite the tears threatening to spill down her cheeks. “I’m sure I would. What about Paul? You went out of your way to find him, didn’t you?”
“I researched my da. He’d married an English woman an
d had another son. I followed Paul into the army and did all I could to get posted with him. I was going to tell him who I was, and what a faithless bastard his da was. I wanted him to lose the only son he ever acknowledged as his own.”
“But?”
“His parents came to camp and took us out to dinner after we’d been on a tour of duty to Belize. Paul loved them both, and his ma didn’t deserve to have her heart broken. Causing trouble for Paul’s family wouldn’t change my life. It would hurt Paul, and I can’t do that to him. I love the maggot.”
“Maybe Paul deserves to know the truth. He wouldn’t love you any less because you were his brother. Perhaps his dad had a reason?”
“The past is best left in the past. Provided you’ve no plans to keep us apart, I can live with having him as my best mate.”
Daisy sighed. “You can see Paul as often as you want, provided you agree to me working with you for a bit longer.”
“I thought you’d be running for the hills, or the nearest recruitment agency to find a new office job?”
“No way. I’m getting really good at this. A couple more weeks and I’ll be brilliant.”
“Did you get a bump on the head, Princess?”
“Arsehole.”
Solomon shifted on the bed and grimaced. “Did you not bring grapes? It’s traditional to bring fruit when you visit the sick and infirm.”
She reached into her bag and tossed a packet of chocolate chip cookies on the bedside table. “I figured you needed to eat some real food instead of that healthy shit if you want to get your strength back.”
“I guess cookies will have to do.” He reached out and took her hand. “If I agree to let you stay on will you be keeping what you know to yourself or will you be telling Paul my secret?”
Daisy smiled. “Not mine to tell. However, I think you’re making the wrong decision. But then you’ve been wrong before.”
“How’s that?”
“I told you principal Marlborough and Langdon College had something to do with Lord Toby going missing.”
“The school was renting out the basement and had no involvement.”
