Shadows to Ashes
Page 41
Vincent refused to speak until his secret door had opened and Charlie had followed him through it. He sealed the door and mounted the stairs two at a time. Charlie followed. At the top, he let himself into the sewing room then pulled his gun. Charlie was a second behind him. The gun was pointing at her face when she made it through the door.
‘Whoa, Vincent. What are you doing?’
‘In the chair, Charlie. Now.’
‘Put the gun down.’
‘SIT!’ Vincent yelled and her legs buckled with the shock. She lowered herself into the chair. She was lethal, could kill a person in seconds with just her hands. Vincent was taking no chances.
‘Hands behind your back. Do it.’
‘What is this about?’ she shouted.
In the small safe on the cupboards, he withdrew a pair of handcuffs without taking his eyes off his sister. She knew what he required her to do and her hands were ready behind her back when he marched over and locked her hands in the cuffs. He walked around the table until he was facing her. She was snorting air through her nose.
‘You’ve always dreamt of seeing this room, haven’t you Charlie? Hmm? Always been desperate to know exactly what it is I keep in here. And, finally, here you are.’
‘You’re out of your mind. What the hell are you doing? Put it down.’
He lengthened his arm, pointing the gun right at her forehead and she drew back. ‘Don’t dictate terms to me. Everything you are, everything you have is because of me, right? I’ve saved the family’s skin, provided all the money and the wealth since he got banged up.’
‘Whatever, Vincent, just lower the gun,’ she said, her tone calmer.
Following a few tense moments where neither of them moved, he did. ‘Seeing as you asked so nicely,’ he said. He put the gun down on the table between them and she looked at it then locked eyes with him again.
‘Is that thing loaded?’
‘Of course. Would you like me to prove it?’
She shook her head, kept her tone gentle. ‘What got into you today?’
‘A better question is, what are you doing here? You’ve just blown me wide open and you did it deliberately.’
‘What do you expect when you threaten to take my house off me?’
‘It isn’t your house, it’s mine. Maybe you’d have your own house by now if you ever spent your money on anything but yourself.’
‘It’s none of your business how –’
‘And it’s none of yours when and how I sell my properties. I gave you a deadline of yesterday. I wanted your boyfriend’s address and an update on Joel. I got neither. As of this moment, you don’t work for me, you’re not on my payroll, you’re not part of my team or my life and you’re out of a house. You know perfectly well how I work.’
‘You owe me money.’
‘How much?’
Her eyes darted to one corner of the ceiling while she did mental sums. ‘Two thousand, seven hundred.’
‘Fine. I pay, then you leave. Don’t ever come back.’
‘You don’t mean that.’
‘Let’s not pretend we’ve ever meant anything to each other. It’s been a relationship of convenience. We’ve used each other. You wanted my money and I harnessed your cruelty for my own purposes.’
‘I thought family was important to you.’
‘Evidently. Which is why you thought you could screw me over. Did you think I’d overlook your failings at work? Your blatant disloyalty? Coming here today under Naomi’s nose – just because we’re family?’ He shook his head. ‘It’s an illusion, Charlie, all of it. Nothing has ever been real. We’ve never been a family. We’ve never had a family. All our lives, we’ve looked for weakness in others so we could exploit it to make money. Do you know why we did that?’
‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’
‘Use your head. We’ve exploited people because we believe we’re entitled to what they have. That we’re superior. That everyone else is small compared to us. Who told us that we deserve the best, that we should have whatever we wanted, whenever we wanted it?’
‘Dad.’
‘And everything he did, he did it for –’
‘Us,’ Charlie cut in.
‘That’s right.’ Vincent leant closer. ‘Only it isn’t. Because he’s a fake. He lied. About everything. Truth is, all we ever really wanted was someone to come home to after school. Fact is, despite the designer clothes and the bikes and the watches, we were neglected and abandoned and abused.’
‘Who told you –’
‘Don’t you get it? We’re not leaders, you and I. We’re sheep. We had a corrupt shepherd who let the wolves in and offered no protection.’
Charlie laughed. ‘You’re talking poetic bollocks again, you know that?’
‘He killed your mother. And mine.’
Silence. The smile wiped clean from Charlie’s face until there wasn’t a trace. A full minute slithered by.
‘How did you –?’
‘Find out? Irrelevant. When you think about it, you’ll know it makes perfect sense.’ Vincent leant towards her across the table. ‘Alters things doesn’t it? Only neither of us can really change who we’ve become. And you’re just like him and I don’t want you around here anymore.’
‘You’re a chip off the old block too.’
‘No. It’s taken living with a sane person to point it out, but I have phobias and obsessions. I don’t sleep at night because my head is too crammed full of crap. I take pills. I drink to manage my head. My brain never stops working. You sleep like a new-born. There’s nothing in your head but what and who you’ll have next. You mean nothing to me. All I want is Naomi Hamilton and I was getting close. This close.’ He held up a forefinger and thumb. ‘And now she’ll want to know why her old neighbour called round and what the hell we’ve been talking about.’
Charlie glared at him defiantly. ‘So, you’re nothing like Dad, yet you’re trying to bed a freaking nun having slammed her boyfriend behind bars? You’ve never killed then, Vincent?’ Charlie smiled, without any warmth. ‘Old block. Chip off.’
Vincent absorbed everything her eyes were communicating, an accumulation of years of spite and resentment.
‘I’ll tell you what I’m going to do, Charlie. I’m going to give you what you’ve always wanted.’
She laughed again. ‘Mother Theresa rubbing off on you is she?’
‘Unless you’re not interested.’
‘No, I’m intrigued,’ she said sarcastically. ‘What have I always wanted, exactly?’
‘You don’t know?’
‘You have a baby in any of these cupboards, do you?’
‘Not the last time I looked. You prefer money to people. You always have. You’d tire of a baby once you realised they sapped all your time, money and attention.’
‘You’re wrong. I love spending on baby things.’
Vincent eyed her. ‘You’re insane.’
She stood up, scraping the cuffs across the back of the chair. Vincent picked up the gun. ‘Sit.’
Charlie slumped down again and Vincent waited for her to settle.
‘I’m going to give you the club.’ Her eyes widened. All the resentment fled. ‘On one condition.’
‘The club?’
‘Correct. He left it to me in ruins. I’ve built it up, and I’ve suddenly decided I don’t want it anymore.’
‘Why wouldn’t you sell it? It’s worth a fortune.’
‘I can’t be bothered. I don’t want anything to do with it, or him.’
‘You’re angry with him. You’ll change your mind.’
‘No. I’ll call my lawyer, have him draft the legalities. Then I’ll sign it over. It’ll be yours by tomorrow. Do with it what you want.’
Her eyes glazed while her head filled with possibilities. Vincent watched her focus shift to long distance. She was looking right through him now and into the future. Then she snapped back and was with him again.
‘What’s the condition?�
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Solomon noticed that his heart was behaving oddly. Speeding up, slowing down. He drew a lungful of air. ‘Stay away from the Hamiltons. All of them. Henry, Camilla, the twins – especially the twins. No contact with any of them. Quit fighting Jimmy’s battle with them.’
‘Oh he’s Jimmy now, is he?’
Vincent’s heart seemed to stop and then jump start. It thudded in his chest, making up for the skipped beat and his palms felt moist and uncomfortable. He lifted the gun and leant across the table and held it against Charlie’s forehead.
‘This is a one-time kind of offer and I’m very tired. I can think of a dozen other people who’d snatch my hand off for an offer like that, my brother included.’
‘I thought Joel was your ex-brother.’
‘Well, you can’t choose family.’ Vincent moved the gun down to her chest and pressed hard until she shifted back. ‘Or I’d never have chosen you. So, in your position, I’d accept quickly and get the hell out of my space before my mood sinks any lower.’
‘Put the gun down, Vincent,’ she said.
‘I’ve never shot a person,’ he said, tone as calm as a summer’s morning.
‘Because you hate blood, right?’
‘Right. When I was thirteen, I watched a man have a finger hacked off. Jimmy made sure I was watching. Held my head, made me open my eyes. Made sure I understood that this guy deserved it. I was so close that this guy’s blood sprayed my face and stained my jacket. I still remember the cold gaze in Jimmy’s eyes in stark contrast to the heat of the blood. I threw up behind the nearest tree and Jimmy punched the top of my arm and told me to man up and grow a pair.’
Vincent realised he was looking at one corner of the room. When he focussed on Charlie again, she was smirking. ‘But you never did.’
He walked round the table now. Stood behind her. Pressed the gun to the back of her neck. ‘Well, it’s never too late.’
She tensed. Went silent a moment, before spitting out, ‘I accept.’
‘What are you accepting?’
‘What you offered.’
‘Which is?’
‘The club.’
He waited. ‘Do I look like a charity to you, Charlie? The condition.’
‘Whatever.’
‘Say it!’ he shouted.
‘Stay away from the Hamiltons,’ she yelled back.
Neither of them moved. Eventually Vincent leant into her ear, whispered, ‘Correct. Don’t forget that part. Ever. Now get out of my house.’
She pulled herself away from him, dragging the chair with her, shuffling sideways.
He followed her, told her to hold still while he unlocked her hands. When she’d stopped moving, Vincent released her wrists. As soon as she was free, she leapt to her feet and turned to face him, stretching to her full height.
Vincent watched her, as you might watch a dangerous animal that had just been freed. ‘You’ve got three days to shift your stuff out of my house in Bramhall or it gets dumped on the tip. By then, you’ll own the club. Maybe my old office could be your new bedroom.’
‘Funny! I’ll be moving in with Reggie.’
‘I wouldn’t bank on it. In fact if I were you, I’d call it a day with Reggie before he seriously disappoints you. He isn’t the tough He-man you think he is.’
‘You don’t know anything about him.’
‘Don’t I?’
‘Stay away from him, Vincent.’
‘Oh, I intend to. Because I’m smart.’ Vincent eyed her for a long moment, strangled with tension. ‘Don’t tell me I never warned you about Janes.’
***
Naomi was in one of the front bedrooms trying to get glimpses out of the window. When a car engine ignited, and then another, she ducked for cover behind the curtain. Amber was driving away in her car and Vincent’s car was disappearing inside the garage. Naomi felt nauseous. She didn’t know what was happening, but she sensed it wasn’t good.
Maybe this was an opportunity. Amber, having come here, had given Naomi the chance to question Vincent about her, to prise him open on the issue of his family. Without needing to confess what she’d discovered in his secret room, she’d now been handed a gift – a starting point.
She left the bedroom and locked the door. A few seconds later, the front door opened and closed and Vincent was striding up the stairs in his shoes. He always removed his shoes in the hall. Not today. She waited at the top of the stairs, preparing to speak. Nothing about Vincent’s expression was inviting a conversation, but, one lesson she’d learnt here: never let an opportunity slide.
‘Why did she come here?’
‘To stir trouble.’
He didn’t look at her, which was unusual. He was advancing towards his room.
‘How do you know her?’
‘She’s my half-sister,’ Vincent said, slicing his key in his door. Speechless by the way the truth finally hung in the air – though it wasn’t the time to hesitate – Naomi followed him. He turned the key, took hold of the handle and panic took hold of her. ‘Amber’s your half-sister?’
‘Her name isn’t Amber. It’s Charlotte Solomon and she’s the scariest bitch you’ll ever meet.’
Naomi was winded, but she pressed on. ‘Why was she involved with my dad?’ she said, the words piling rapidly on top of each other.
‘You want the truth do you? Sure you can handle it?’
‘Yes,’ Naomi breathed out, without thinking. ‘I want the truth.’
‘They knew each other, my dad, your dad.’ She thought of the school photo in the secret room. Made sense.
‘So?’
‘So your dad became my dad’s accountant. Your dad went to the police about my dad’s accounts and my dad got thrown in prison because of it when Charlie and I were teenagers. Three and a half years later, my dad was murdered, leaving Charlie and me with no one.’ He turned, looked right at her. ‘So now you know.’ Naomi couldn’t respond, so he continued, ‘And that’s just the tip of one hell of an iceberg. But all you need to know is that nothing went on between Henry and Charlie. She was just causing trouble, to hurt him, right?’
She zoned out. The photos were filling her mind, her dad with that woman, Charlie. Set up? Nothing had actually happened? She could have wept with relief. Nothing happened!
Next thing she knew, Vincent had opened his bedroom door so that she could see inside. Over his shoulder, she got her first glimpse of a spacious bedroom. The walls were white between colourful paintings, unlike the ones in the hall. She could see the end of a bed with a pristine white cover. Oak floor. No stockpile of rifles in view. No bombs or hand grenades.
He cleared his throat and her wandering eyes returned to his again. ‘Come in,’ he whispered. There was a weightiness about his gentle tone, no hint of him toying with her now.
She shook her head, pulse pounding. ‘I can’t.’
A groan slipped out of his mouth. His lips pressed together. She sensed acute frustration against the backdrop of an intensely dark mood. He broke eye contact, closed his eyes. His head fell a little. She felt uneasy, as if a storm was coming. ‘Leave me then,’ he hissed. ‘Get out. Pack your things and go. Deal’s off.’
‘No –’
‘I lost.’ His eyes snapped open. ‘You lost. It’s over.’
‘We play to the finish.’
‘It is finished. Don’t you get it? I resign.’ He raised his voice. ‘I’m done with games. I have to be on my own.’
‘You just invited me into your room.’
‘And you refused. I’m never going to let you refuse me again. Pack your things. Go home to your family. I’m not safe to be around.’
‘No. I won’t leave. Not now, after everything –’
He closed the door in her face. A key turned. She banged on the door. ‘What about Dan?’ Nothing came back. ‘Vincent! You can’t do this.’
Something crashed against the door on Vincent’s side. Naomi jumped and backed off. Another smash, and then another. It sounded as thou
gh he was stalking the room whacking things with a stick.
Her whole frame weakened. ‘Vincent, stop!’ She stood still, listening. There was a final clatter, as if he’d hurled whatever he was holding, at the floor. What had happened to him? What followed was an absolute and heavy silence. No shuffles. No noises. It was as if he’d evaporated from the room.
‘Vincent?’ she called, anxiety edging her tone. He didn’t reply. She imagined him downing a bottle of something and swallowing his sleeping pills in search of oblivion. ‘Vincent?’
No response.
She didn’t know what to do next, so she sidled to her room to think. Think hard. An hour later when nothing in the house had stirred and her head ached with tension, she’d latched onto this thought and it was clinging like sticky weed to her mind: if there was evidence in the house that Dan was innocent, she could find it. Right now. The time for caution had gone. Vincent’s ten commandments had just been torn up. He’d called off the deal, so rules didn’t apply. And Vincent was unconscious in his room and could throw her out of the house when he came round. If there was ever a time when she needed to act in the moment, it was now.
She twisted her neck and eyed the keys on her bedside table. She had to return to the garage and there was no time to speculate about consequences. She raised herself soundlessly from the bed and folded one hand around the keys and tried to gather the courage to pick them up.
Don’t search while Vincent is in the house, even if you think he’s sleeping. He sleeps light, or not at all. Wait until he’s out.
Out of time. She couldn’t wait.
46
Annabel switched her phone off. She was sitting in her room. After a battle with her conscience, she’d finally made an appointment to visit Dan. He’d made it easy for her and approved her visit before she even rang. So, three days now to wait. She wondered what it would be like to be admitted into prison. Would they search her? Question her? It sickened her really, sneaking around behind Naomi’s back like this, but Dan had been insistent about seeing her. If he had important things to say, then somebody needed to hear them. So she’d gathered the courage to go and intended to tell no one of her plans, not even Joel.