Unfinished Business

by Heather Atkinson

  “Stop being naughty and get on with your job, that’s what I’m paying you for,” he said.

  “Nose to the grindstone Boss.”

  He smiled again. She had that effect on him.

  This time they hung up on each other, Brodie’s demanding stomach growling.

  “Alright, alright, I’m going,” he said, addressing his navel. Realising what he was doing he shook his head. “Jeezo, I’m losing it.”

  Brodie found real food at a café two streets away, the full breakfast comprised of fried bread, tomatoes, a huge heap of beans, bacon, three sausages and potato scones. Plus the staff were actually friendly.

  He was in the middle of demolishing the lot when ringing filled the air. Refusing to relinquish his grip on the fork he struggled to pull the phone out of his jacket pocket with one hand.

  “What?” he mumbled through a mouthful of food.

  “Brodie?”

  “Yeah?”

  “It’s Sarah Creegan.” Her voice was quiet and doubtful, as though she thought he wouldn’t remember her.

  “Oh aye. Hello Sarah.” He paused to cough as a piece of fried bread took its time sliding down his throat. “What can I do for you?”

  “Can you come to the house right now?”

  Her voice had dropped to a whisper and he had to strain to hear her over the background noise of the café. “Something wrong?”

  “The Creegans are here, all three of them.”

  “Maggie, Seth and Lauren?” he said, suddenly enthusiastic.

  “Yes. Please hurry.”

  “On my way.”

  Sarah hung up first and he stared at the phone. What was it with women hanging up on him? He sighed and gazed regretfully at his breakfast, not wanting to leave it but the prospect of meeting all three Creegans at once was too tempting. He got to his feet and threw down enough money on the table to cover his breakfast and leave the waitress a healthy tip.

  “Is everything okay?” said a concerned waitress, a pretty pert thing with glossy dark hair and huge false eyelashes.

  “Fine hen but something’s come up, got to run.” He gave her a wink. “You’ll see me again soon.”

  She blushed and smiled up at him. “I hope so.”

  He took a second to admire her wiggle as she bustled off to attend to another customer before exiting. As he hurried to his car it occurred to him that the waitress couldn’t have been more than twenty. He was forty four. Was she too young for him? Jesus, what an indication of age that was when someone in their twenties was too young for you. Anyway, he wasn’t sure he’d like to tackle those eyelashes, they’d looked lethal.

  “Old fart,” he muttered to himself, starting the engine, which spluttered and protested. Thoughts of middle age were banished by the prospect of meeting the rest of the Creegans. He called Cass on the hands-free kit on the journey to Sarah’s house.

  “How was the breakfast Boss?” she said.

  “Fucking marvellous until Sarah Creegan called. Seth, Maggie and Lauren are all at her house and she wants me round there for backup so tell me you’ve done more research and I’m not going in unprepared.”

  “You’re lucky I’m so amazingly efficient. Maggie Creegan was known for having run-ins with her neighbours down in Camden. She even decked one of them then spat all over the policeman who arrested her. Lauren has spent most of her life in and out of psychiatric units. Main suspect in two arson cases. She set fire to a neighbour’s house in Camden - the same neighbour her mother attacked - and to a public toilets in Manchester but there wasn’t enough proof to take either case to court. They’re a real bunch of charmers. Be careful, these aren’t good people.”

  “I appreciate the warning.”

  “Want me to come down there? I don’t like you being all alone in this.”

  “Not yet. I need you up there making sure Ross and Christian don’t run my business into the ground. For all I know Mark Creegan isn’t The Carver and if he isn’t then I’ll be done in a couple of days.”

  “I’ve got a bad feeling about this one.”

  “Cass, you have a bad feeling about every case.”

  “Because we deal with the lowest of the low every day and the Creegans are no exception. Just watch your back.”

  “Stop teaching your granny how to suck eggs. See what else you can dig up and see what buttons you can push. I want as much information as I can on the investigation into The Carver case.”

  “McLaren’s doing his best but he’s pushed his luck as it is getting what you already have.”

  McLaren was his old colleague in Glasgow CID who gave him a helping hand when he required it. “Then get at the SIO on the case and find me a way in.”

  “I can only try but I’m not a miracle worker.”

  “Yes you are Cass.”

  They hung up on each other and Brodie turned his mind to preparing himself for what was to come. He was looking forward to it.

  CHAPTER 5

  A battered, rusting dark red Ford Escort sat on the drive beside Sarah’s swanky black Mazda like an insult. Brodie considered it interesting that Mark clearly wasn’t into sharing his wealth with his nearest and dearest.

  The front door opened before he’d even reached it.

  “Brodie, thank God,” said a stricken Sarah, grabbing his arm and pulling him inside.

  He was led into the lounge by the sound of angry voices, all of which went silent when he walked in. He stopped, thinking it was Mark standing in the middle of the room, until he realised it was his twin brother, Seth. Cass hadn’t been wrong about mirror-image twins. Seth’s hair was cut in the same style as his brother’s but was flicked the opposite way. He stared at Seth’s left hand, which was the one he used.

  Everyone in the room followed Brodie’s line of sight to Seth’s left hand then looked back to Brodie.

  “What the fuck are you looking at?” demanded Seth.

  Brodie realised he was staring and forced his eyes up to his face. “My name’s Brodie. Mrs Creegan called me.”

  “Why?” barked Seth.

  “Because I want him here,” said Sarah, tilting back her head, although Brodie knew she was intimidated by her in-laws. “He was the one who told me about Mark’s…history.”

  “You dirty, interfering, scotch prick,” yelled Seth.

  Brodie bristled all over, his hackles rising. The violence in Seth’s voice and eyes surprised him, it was so different to Mark’s bluster. If he hadn’t heard Mark admit that he’d killed his own father he’d suspect there’d been some kind of mistake and this brother was really responsible.

  “Calm down Seth,” said Maggie in a voice that was a harsh as metal scraping against metal, worn with years of chain-smoking. She stank of smoke, the smell filling the room, getting into everyone’s throats. Ravaged was the only word for Maggie’s face. Deep lines were etched across her forehead and around the sides of her mouth and it was clear laughter hadn’t put them there. Her eyes were dark and hollow and her teeth large and crooked. However her hair was beautiful - thick and shiny, a rich dark brown gleaming in the light streaming in through the window. With her slender frame from behind she would probably get wolf whistles that would quickly turn to screams when she turned around.

  “Mr Brodie,” began Maggie.

  “Brodie’s my first name.”

  “That’s not a first name,” she replied as though he was wrong.

  “Aye it is,” he frowned, annoyed.

  “Brodie,” she sighed, rolling her eyes. “This is a family matter so you can leave.”

  “Mrs Creegan wants me here and this is her house, so here I stay.”

  “Actually it’s my son’s house.”

  “I don’t see him here,” retorted Brodie, throwing out his arms. He noticed Mark’s younger sister Lauren twitch at the sudden gesture. She was an attractive girl and, like brothers, her hair and eyes were black. Funnily enough, despite the warm weather she wore a long-sleeved black jumper. She took a step back, face draining of colour
, even her lips. She appeared to shrink in on herself. What had this woman seen to make her like that? He glanced at Seth, who radiated rage and darkness and thought he had his answer.

  “Now I’m just going to stand here and make sure everyone keeps calm while you have your wee chat,” said Brodie, folding his arms across his chest and planting his feet, doing a good impression of an immovable object.

  Seth glared at him as though he wanted to rip him into tiny pieces.

  Maggie looked back at Sarah. “You can’t stop me seeing my grandkids. You have absolutely no right.”

  “You lied to me Maggie, you all did,” replied Sarah, emboldened by Brodie’s presence. “All these years not one of you had the decency to tell me the truth. If you had I might have understood, Bryan was an abusive man, but you chose to keep it from me and now I can’t trust any of you.”

  “We’re still the same people you’ve always known, we’ve not changed,” said Maggie.

  “That’s half the problem,” Sarah said coldly.

  “You stuck up, arrogant bitch,” thundered Seth. “Who the fuck do you think you are?”

  “Hey, steady on pal,” said Brodie, putting himself between him and Sarah.

  “Who are you, her bodyguard? Or has she moved her new shag piece in already?” he spat, standing nose to nose with Brodie.

  “It’s not like that,” said Brodie calmly. “I’m here in a professional capacity.”

  “You’re a bit old for a fucking gigolo,” he sneered.

  “I’m here for Mrs Creegan’s protection and now I see why I’m needed.”

  Seth shoved him in the chest but he stood his ground.

  “Think yourself fucking handy, do you?” yelled Seth.

  “Try me,” hissed Brodie.

  “Seth, we’re not here to fight,” said Maggie. “We’re here to talk reasonably with Sarah and show her she’s nothing to fear from us, or Mark.”

  “Don’t you mean Theo?” said Sarah.

  “Mark’s his real name, he changed it legally, it’s who he is,” countered Maggie. “Theo is long gone.”

  “Is he? I’m not so sure. How do I know he’s not going to snap and stab me or the girls to death?”

  “Stop being so dramatic. You know as well as I do that would never happen. He’d endured a life of misery and violence at the hands of his own father, we all had and he set us free.”

  “That’s what you call it?” said Sarah, her voice rising into a slightly hysterical shriek. “You call stabbing someone to death being set free?”

  “Yes. You’ve no idea of the hell we went through. The courts and police believed us, that’s why Mark isn’t in prison now, so why can’t you?”

  “Because I don’t feel safe with him anymore. I’ve just realised I’ve been married to a stranger all these years and I don’t know what he’s capable of.”

  “Mark loves you. He won’t hurt you, he won’t hurt anyone.”

  Sarah looked to Brodie, wondering if she should mention The Carver. Divining what she was thinking he almost imperceptibly shook his head. Maggie and Lauren missed the gesture but Seth didn’t. His dark eyes slanted, flicking between the two of them, but he said nothing.

  “The truth is Maggie,” said Sarah, well aware of Seth’s eyes burning into her and trying to ignore him, “you have an ugly, violent past and I don’t like it.”

  “I’m sorry if us being beaten every day of our lives upsets your delicate sensibilities,” yelled Maggie with such sudden savagery that both Sarah and Lauren jumped. “Bryan tortured us as much as he could because he liked it, he enjoyed seeing his wife and children bleeding and crying and begging him to stop. We never knew happiness or normality. All we could do was wake up every morning and pray we’d get through the day without being hit. That’s the beast Mark destroyed.”

  “Theo,” said Sarah.

  “Mark,” yelled Maggie. The word rolled about the room like a giant metal marble, hitting them all with its force and some of the fight drained out of Sarah. “He is Mark Creegan because that is who he is - a good, gentle man. Theo died with his father. We were all reborn that day.”

  Sarah wasn’t swayed by this passionate speech. “I’m sorry for everything you went through but I’m more concerned with the here and now and my kids and I don’t want you lot anywhere near them.”

  “Sarah…”

  “No Maggie. I’ve spoken and that’s that,” she said with surprising firmness. “Please leave.”

  “You can’t keep my grandkids from me,” growled Maggie in what Brodie thought was a very butch way.

  “I can and I have. They’re not here anyway. I’ve sent them away with my mum and dad.”

  “Where?”

  “As if I’m going to tell you. Now get out before I call the police.” Sarah’s shoulders lifted before settling again, as though it was taking everything she had to stand up to her in-laws.

  “You can’t throw us out,” said Seth.

  “I can do what I like because this is my house, mine and Mark’s.”

  “I bet all the money’s a nice consolation,” countered Seth.

  “Get out.”

  “Brave now you’ve got your little friend,” he said, advancing on her like an angry storm cloud. “What’s the plan, kick Mark out and move the Jock in?”

  Brodie put himself before Seth again, blocking his view of Sarah. “Back off.”

  “There’s nothing going on between me and Brodie, we’ve only just met,” added Sarah.

  “Who is he anyway?” said Maggie, waving a hand in Brodie’s direction. “Where’s he come from?”

  “Glasgow,” replied Brodie with a sly smile.

  “I mean why are you here sticking your nose in our business?”

  “I was hired by a client to tell Mrs Creegan the truth about her husband.”

  “What client?”

  “That’s confidential.”

  “You’re a private dick,” said Seth, putting the emphasis on the word dick.

  “Not really.”

  “What are you then?” he roared when Brodie failed to elaborate.

  “You’re a very angry man, aren’t you Seth? I know that sometimes your temper gets violent.”

  Seth prowled up to Brodie, darkness seeming to surround him. From the corner of his eye Brodie could see Lauren shaking quite badly, her whole body vibrating. She seemed most scared when Seth was angry. Was he at the root of her terrible nerves?

  “His business is unfinished business,” explained Sarah.

  “That your motto, is it?” sneered Seth.

  Why did everyone say that? “Yes,” sighed Brodie.

  “We’re unfinished business then?”

  “Aye ya are,” said Brodie casually.

  The fact that Brodie wasn’t quivering in his boots infuriated Seth, who unfurled himself, the darkness surrounding him gaining in proportions, taking over the room. Brodie fully realised that Seth was a man who was capable of literally anything. Fortunately people like him were his speciality.

  Lauren’s trembling increased to truly epic proportions, her head joining in the dance of her arms and legs. When Maggie saw Brodie regarding her daughter curiously she stepped up and wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

  “All this unpleasantness is playing havoc with poor Lauren’s nerves. Come on love, let’s go home and get you settled,” she said, leading her to the door, throwing Brodie an accusing look, as though he was responsible for Lauren’s mental health. He thought she should be looking closer to home for the cause. It took time to become a neurotic mess like that.

  “Lauren, it’s okay,” said Sarah kindly, reaching out to take her trembling hands but she jerked away and turned her back on her.

  Seth was still standing nose to nose with Brodie but he’d been so interested in the exchange between Sarah and Lauren that he’d forgotten he was there. Brodie focused on him again. “Mrs Creegan has made her feelings clear, so I suggest you all leave.”

  “Or what?” barked Seth.


  Lauren released a squeak and rushed for the door, Maggie hurrying after her. She threw her daughter-in-law a parting glare, who hung her head. Clearly Sarah was intimidated by the redoubtable Maggie.

  Seth huffed, embarrassed by his sister’s weakness.

  “Come on Son, we’re getting nowhere like this,” Maggie called over her shoulder as she steered Lauren out the front door.

  “Do as Mummy says,” grinned Brodie. He was never one to be intimidated but there was something very dark in Seth’s eyes that told him this man had done bad deeds. He’d met plenty of them in his time, especially the Judas bastard John Lyons. Seth’s arrogance reminded him all too well of his ex-friend. They possessed the same superiority complex and dark intensity. The comparison made him even more keen to take this wanker on.

  Sensing this, Seth’s body seemed to expand again, as though he was trying to smother Brodie without actually moving.

  “Me and you will talk again,” said Seth.

  “I look forward to it,” retorted Brodie.

  Seth was momentarily confused. His big, dark presence usually reduced people to jelly, so why wasn’t this prick a mess on the floor?

  Seth slowly walked away, eyes never leaving Brodie until he’d disappeared out the door.

  “Oh my God, I thought they’d never leave,” exhaled Sarah. She hurried to the window to watch them go, the Ford Escort rolling down the drive, Seth pausing before he reached the bottom to throw them a killer glare from the driver’s seat.

  “I bet Christmas Day around here is a barrel of laughs,” said Brodie sarcastically.

  “Oh yeah, it’s a hoot,” she replied. “Lauren usually ends up drinking herself into a stupor even though we try so hard to keep her away from the booze because she can’t drink with her medication. Somehow she always manages to get hold of some and necks it before we can stop her. Seth and Mark argue constantly and Maggie sits there like the buggering Queen of Sheba drinking Midori and insulting my cooking. It’s hell.”

  “I wouldn’t use the word ‘buggering’ like that, it could be misunderstood.”

  Sarah thought about it and giggled. “You’re right. I’ll never get the hang of this swearing lark.”