“Okay,” she said reluctantly.
“This isn’t over Lutsky,” said Alex before they left.
Everyone, including Lutsky, was amazed he’d got off so lightly.
Three hours later Lutsky stumbled out of the pub a little worse for wear. Everyone had congratulated him all night on how well he’d handled the Maguires and commented that they’d lost their nerve with Danny gone, that they were finished. So the last thing he was expecting was the hand clamping down on his mouth and the needle in his neck.
He woke to find himself strapped to a gurney in the basement of the Maguire compound surrounded by the Maguire clan, Ryan Law and Frankie McVay.
“Are we awake?” said Alex, peering down at him. “Perhaps we can finish that conversation now?”
Furious, Lutsky launched into a tirade in his mother tongue.
“What the fuck’s that?” said Frankie. “Sounds like Klingon.”
“It’s Russian,” replied Rachel, peering down at Lutsky. “Are you ready to answer our questions or do you want us to get medieval on you?”
When he spat in her face Ryan was incensed and punched him hard, breaking his nose, which had the effect of silencing him.
“Thank Christ for that,” said Frankie. “I was expecting him to get beamed up to the mother ship at any moment.”
Rachel coolly wiped her face with a towel, unfazed. “I’ve had much worse Mr Lutsky. Now all we want is a simple yes or no and if you answer nicely you might get out of here alive. Did you kill my husband?”
“Fuck yourself you English whore.” Lutsky was furious that he was at this woman’s mercy.
“You disappointment me Fedir, I had hoped we could be civilised about this,” she said, walking over to a cabinet in the corner of the room. He watched apprehensively as she took out a syringe and a vial of clear liquid. “As a mercenary you’ve no doubt experienced many forms of pain but I’m about to introduce you to a completely new one.”
She injected him in the neck and instantly Fedir felt as though his entire body was on fire. He released a roar of agony, sizeable muscles straining against the restraints, spine arching up off the gurney as the pain consumed him entirely.
Mikey watched with a worried frown as Rachel stared down at their prisoner impassively. Danny’s death has destroyed something inside her, the part that loved to nurse, the caring compassionate side. All she cared about now was finding his killer and she’d stop at nothing to achieve that. He prayed when this was all over the change wouldn’t be a permanent one.
As the drug started to wear off Fedir’s body relaxed and he sank onto the gurney, sweating and breathing hard.
“Did you kill Danny?” she said quietly.
He tried to reply but he hadn’t recovered his breath. His heart hammered so hard he feared he was having a heart attack.
Alex threw a bucket of cold water over him. “Wake up.”
This roused him from his stupor but defiance filled him again. “Fuck you and your dead husband,” he snarled at Rachel.
Infuriated she slammed the used syringe into the back of his hand and he gritted his teeth together to keep the cry of pain inside.
“I heard all about your boating accident,” she hissed nastily. “And you’re terrified of water.”
“No,” was all he had time to yell before Ryan clamped a towel over his face and Mikey drenched it with water. The effect was instant and dramatic. Fedir, feeling like he was drowning, started to thrash violently but he couldn’t throw them off.
When they removed the towel Fedir dragged air into his starved lungs, eyes wild with panic and fear.
“I repeat, did you kill Danny?” demanded Rachel, eyes black with anger.
Another Russian tirade resulted in another water-boarding session, Rachel staring down at the gasping, choking figure icily.
“Did you kill my husband?” she said quietly.
“No,” he practically shrieked as his spirit broke beneath the assault of frightening childhood memories. “I pretended I did but I didn’t. I was in Liverpool when he was shot.”
“Why didn’t you just tell us that in the club?” exclaimed Rachel. Realisation dawned. “Oh I see, you’d been boasting to your cronies and couldn’t lose face. You’ve wasted so much of our time. Now you’re going to lose a lot more than that.”
“No, please,” he begged.
“I told you that you’d be begging me for mercy,” she said, lips curving up into a parody of a smile.
She nodded at Mikey and Ryan, who water-boarded him again and when they released him on Rachel’s command he was weeping freely.
“Fedir, are you right or left handed?” she said.
“W…what?”
“I said are you right or left handed?” she yelled.
“Right.”
She nodded at Frankie, who produced his hatchet from his jacket pocket, the blade glinting in the harsh artificial light. With extreme precision and speed he brought it down on Fedir’s right wrist, severing his hand and he screamed in agony.
Eagerly Frankie produced an ice box and sealed the appendage inside it.
“Another one to add to my collection,” he smiled.
A worried look passed between Ryan and Mikey.
“We could have avoided all this Fedir,” said Rachel, “but you chose this path. Now your career’s finished. On the bright side, hopefully you’ve learnt to have more respect for women. Get out of the city and don’t come back unless you want us to drown you for good.”
“I will,” he managed to rasp before passing out.
Later that day Fedir was found dumped outside his favourite pub delirious with pain, the stump where his right hand used to be professionally bandaged.
Richard Spencer unlocked his front door and angrily threw his briefcase onto the hallway table. Bruce was throwing his weight about again, demanding more money. Thirty eight years old and he still lived off an allowance, he’d never done a proper day’s work in his life. Not only that, he’d only gone and bought himself another Porsche. Richard didn’t know what he was going to do with him and it frightened him that he was his only heir. On the bright side, at least it showed he was getting back to his old self after the attack. He wished his wife was still alive, Helen had been the only one who could control Bruce but she’d died ten years ago of ovarian cancer and he missed her every day.
He was so troubled that it took Richard a few seconds to realise that his lounge had been invaded by Maguires, sitting there like they owned the place. As well as Alex and Rachel, there was a man he recognised as Ryan Law and a ginger haired man with glasses he’d never seen before.
“May I ask how you got in?” he said calmly, pulling off his tie and undoing his top button.
“We have our ways,” replied Alex.
“Drink?”
“Thanks but we already helped ourselves,” he said, holding up a tumbler full of whisky. “It’s bloody good.”
“Fifty year old scotch, only the best.” He poured his own and took the chair by the fireplace. He noticed Rachel watching him with her black eyes, which glittered dangerously in the firelight. “Mrs Maguire.”
“Mr Spencer. Let’s cut the false bonhomie. Did you arrange to have my husband killed?”
“If you hadn’t noticed I’m not a criminal.”
“You’re a powerful businessman. Are you saying you’ve never taken the easy path or ridden over someone who stood in your way?”
“Of course I have but I’ve never had anyone killed to get where I am. I prefer to target your legitimate businesses, a ploy that I believe was working quite well.”
“You were nothing but a pest Mr Spencer. I’m only going to ask you once more nicely. Did you kill my husband, yes or no?”
“No. I can’t help feel that his death was well deserved but unfortunately I didn’t cause it.”
Richard mistook the civil tone in Rachel’s voice for weakness, thinking she wouldn’t dare make a move on him. He only realised his error when her fist
connected with his face, knocking him back into the chair. Unable to escape, all he could do was curl up into a ball as she pummelled him, her strength surprising for such a slender woman.
“Alright Rach,” Alex eventually said. “He’s had enough.”
“I’ve just got started,” she hissed but she took a step back, breathing hard, eyes black with wrath.
“Oh Jesus, you broke my nose,” whined Richard. “I’m going to sue you.”
Alex grabbed his shirt front in one fist and yanked him forwards, almost dragging him off the chair. “You’re not going to do anything, in fact you’ll stay well away from our family. The only reason you’re still breathing is because of your standing in the city and your disappearance would raise questions. But I will rethink that decision if I find out you had anything to do with my brother’s death.” He dragged Richard to the floor and kicked him in the ribs, making him yelp. “And you can tell The Coalition to back off too, we’re fucking sick of them.”
Richard stared up at him, surprised.
“Oh yes we know all about that bunch of tossers so the lot of you can back off, we’re stronger than ever. Stay the fuck out of our way Spencer or we’ll finish you and when we’ve done that we’ll finish your wanker of a son too.”
“You’ll leave him alone,” he said, panic in his tone.
“We will if you keep your end of the bargain. If you want to keep him alive then you fucking behave yourself. Have we made ourselves clear?”
“Crystal,” he replied begrudgingly.
“Good, I’m glad we’ve got that sorted,” said Alex, straightening up. “Thanks for the drink.”
With that they filed out of the room quietly, leaving him bleeding on the floor. Only when he was sure they’d gone did Richard stagger to the phone and call Benton, who was there in under ten minutes.
“Jesus Christ what happened to you?” frowned Benton.
“The Maguires happened, that’s what.”
“Who hit you? Alex? Mikey?”
“Rachel,” he muttered, humiliated.
“Can’t say I’m surprised, I’ve always said she’s an unnatural woman.”
“They told me they’d kill me and my son if I continued to poke my nose into their business.”
“I warned you, didn’t I? Why did you have to go round their pub shouting your mouth off?”
“Because I was angry, they crippled my son.”
“Your threats brought them straight to your door.”
“They know about The Coalition, they knew I was a part of it. Alex threatened all of us.”
Benton already knew the Maguires were aware of their group. He’d worked out months ago that they were responsible for Davenport’s death, not Ryan Law.
“Forget about that, it’s not important.”
“Not important, are you insane? These are serious people.”
“I’m well aware of that but we can’t give in to their threats. We have to fight them.”
“The Coalition isn’t the way, the Maguires know about us, we’ve been compromised.”
“Are you giving up?”
Richard went silent, staring at the floor.
“Are you?”
“I have to protect my son. I’m out.”
Benton sighed and shook his head before walking out of the house but despite his words Richard was far from out. He’d get the Maguires, he just needed to figure out how.
“Well that got us nowhere,” said Alex when they’d all retreated to the warehouse to discuss their options. “Fedir was telling the truth, he was in Liverpool when Danny was shot, I‘ve checked. Ricky French wasn’t lying either. Johnny Jackson was banged up the night before and the police seized his rifle. He’s still inside.”
“Who was he going to kill with it?” said Ryan.
“His next door neighbour’s dog. Apparently it barks at night and has been driving him crazy. Before he could use it he got into a row with the neighbour and beat the shit out of him, which is why he got banged up. The police found the weapon so he’ll be going down for a while but he’ll more than likely be put in a psychiatric hospital, looks like he lost the plot.”
“Sounds like a prick,” said Frankie. “So who else is there we can pay a little visit?” He was reluctant to go home just yet, he was enjoying all this.
“There are more hitmen we can visit and another arms dealer, although he works for us, I can’t see him supplying a weapon like that without letting us know but we’re running out of options. It’s getting late, I suggest we all go home and meet up in the morning.”
They all nodded, except Rachel. “Shouldn’t we keep at this?”
“No, we need to weigh our options carefully, we’ve already stood on some powerful toes. Fedir wasn’t without influence, that could come back on us.”
“But…”
“We’re calling it a day for now and you look dead on your feet.”
She just nodded. Her shoulder was aching badly and she wanted to curl up and sleep but the burning desire for vengeance refused to quit.
“We will get them, I promise you,” said Alex.
“Come on, I’ll take you home,” said Ryan gently. “I’ve got to meet up with Jez anyway.”
“Okay,” she replied, knowing further protest was futile.
“Bruiser’s already back at the house to make sure it’s safe,” said Battler. “I’ll join you shortly.”
She nodded before following Ryan out the door and down to the underground car park.
“How are you holding up?” he asked her when they were in the car.
“Not so bad. I’ll feel better when we’ve caught this bastard.”
“I think we all will.” He couldn’t stand knowing she was in danger, he’d been constantly on edge ever since the shooting.
Ryan decided not to mention the car following them to Rachel, she’d got enough to worry about. After dropping her off he drove around the corner, parked up and crept back onto Rachel’s street, keeping to the shadows. He saw the car draw to a halt outside Rachel’s house and a figure climb out of it, gently closing the door behind them so as not to make any noise.
Ryan approached cautiously, not as yet certain who he was dealing with. When the figure began to creep through the bushes he knew he must act.
Moving quickly, Ryan raced across the road, delved into the bushes and dragged the figure out backwards. At first the figure struggled against him but Ryan slammed his head on the bonnet of the car. Dazed, the figure slumped to the ground, his hood falling back, causing Ryan to recoil.
“Holy fuck,” he gasped.
The man’s face was hideous, an horrific mass of livid scar tissue. Then recognition dawned.
“Steve?”
Snatching up Steve’s car keys he popped open the boot and shoved him in. He had the feeling he could answer a few questions.
Leaving his own car behind, Ryan drove Steve’s shit heap back to the Maguire compound. Fortunately Alex, Mikey, Battler and Frankie were still there.
“I hope this is important Ryan. I was just about to go home,” frowned Alex.
“I promise it won’t be a waste of your time,” he replied, popping open the boot.
They all peered inside and recoiled.
“What the fuck is that?” demanded Alex.
“Don’t you recognise your own handiwork? That is Rachel’s ex-boyfriend, Steve. I noticed him following us when I took her home. After I dropped her off I stayed behind to watch and he tried to sneak up to her house so I shoved him in the boot and brought him here.”
“Nice one mate,” said Alex. “We owe you one.”
“No you don’t.”
“Does Rachel know about this?” said Mikey.
“No, I thought it best not to mention it. She’s got enough on her plate.”
“Good call.”
“It’s very suspicious him sneaking about like that. Perhaps he’s Benton’s mysterious witness?”
“I agree Ryan, it is very interesting,” said Ale
x. He looked at Battler. “Get him out of there.”
Battler lifted Steve out of the boot as though he weighed nothing and he started to scream.
“That won’t do you any good down here,” said Alex. “It’s soundproofed. Have a guess why.”
Battler and Mikey tied him to a chair. Frankie knelt before him and stared at him in fascination.
“You’ll have to tell me how you did this Alex, it really is excellent work. I can think of a couple of people I’d love to make look like this.”
“No problem, I can show you right now,” Alex replied, walking to the locked metal cupboard and opening it up to pull out a sander.
Steve started to weep, tears running down his ruined face, slaloming through the wrinkled flesh.
“It was with this,” said Alex, holding up the sander and tossing the plug to Mikey. “Danny held him down while I put it to his face. You remember, don’t you Steve?”
When he wet himself Frankie recoiled in disgust.
“Dirty wee bastard.”
Alex loomed over Steve with the sander in his hand. “What were you going to do to Rachel tonight? Rape her? Kill her?”
He switched on the sander, which buzzed into life. Steve started to shake violently and struggled ineffectually against his bonds, which had been tied too efficiently by Battler. Alex knelt before him, holding it torturously close to his face. Steve appeared mesmerised by the weapon, eyes full of fear.
“Don’t worry, I won’t go for your face this time but I will remove every inch of skin from the rest of your body if you don’t tell me what I want to know. Did you kill my brother?”
“No, it wasn’t me,” he shrieked.
“Do you know who did?”
Steve glanced up at Battler nervously, whose eyes glittered with danger. “Yes,” he replied, swallowing hard.
Alex looked at Battler. “Shirt.”
Battler ripped open Steve’s shirt to reveal smooth white flesh.
“Tell me who did and I might not skin you alive,” glowered Alex.
CHAPTER 15
Rachel was surprised to have a visitor so late. At the knock on the door Bruiser indicated for her to stay in the living room while he investigated.
Divided Loyalties Page 15
