Shadows to Ashes

by Tori de Clare

  He didn’t look at her or speak to her, but suddenly snatched her hand and pulled her from under the tree and towed her at speed towards the cemetery gates. She had to break into a trot to keep up.

  ‘Vincent. What’s going on?’

  ‘There’re some people I want you to meet.’

  His tone had no warmth, which thoroughly chilled her.

  ‘What people?’ The place was deserted. Not even a car.

  ‘You’ll find out soon enough.’

  ‘Look, I know you’re upset, but –’

  ‘Upset? Tell me, what’s the definition of upset?’

  She couldn’t think clearly, not with the gates now in view and the stony path beyond it. Her mouth opened and something spilled out. ‘Having your wedding ruined and your fiancé thrown in prison?’

  Without hesitation, ‘Nope. That’s not it.’

  They’d passed the gates now and were dodging stray branches protruding from bushes. Odd ones scratched at their clothing in the darkness. She looked down and couldn’t see her feet. They reached the broken railing and Vincent shone a light on it.

  ‘Ladies first.’

  History repeating. He let go of her hand and she climbed through the railings and he followed closely behind. As they struggled through more bushes with more reaching, brittle arms, a car was approaching on the lane.

  Vincent didn’t stop walking or look behind him, but he did take her hand again and switched course to the left, refusing the most direct route to the path.

  ‘Who’s coming?’ she asked.

  ‘The people I want you to meet.’

  ‘Why here?’

  ‘Because this is the meeting place.’

  She said, ‘You’re freaking me out,’ and tugged on his hand to try to stop him, to appeal to him to talk at least. But he was having none of it. Just kept yanking her along until they arrived at a patch of grass and the first batch of gravestones. The graves were in plots, paved walkways in between. He seemed to know exactly where he was going.

  Naomi kept glancing over her shoulder and couldn’t see anyone. Vincent kept walking without looking back, and splashing torchlight from his phone on the ground.

  A couple of minutes of this and then he slowed his pace and pulled her in front of a black headstone.

  He said, ‘Discovering that your mother was murdered by your father.’

  ‘What?’

  Vincent shed light on the headstone and she began to read: In loving memory of Belinda May Solomon. Loving wife and mother who passed away –

  ‘That’s the definition of upset.’

  She turned to look at him. ‘He murdered her? Your dad?’

  Vincent didn’t move or reply. His eyes were fixed on the headstone. He wouldn’t look at her.

  ‘How do you know?’

  ‘I found out.’

  ‘From a reliable source?’

  ‘My dad’s cellmate. He was telling the truth. I didn’t want it to be true, but what does that change?’ He turned to her now. Looked her right in the eye and she tensed, head to toe. ‘It was a game changer and this is the end of the game now. Remember how I told you it could end? You free Dan, you kill me?’ He withdrew the folder but didn’t offer it to her. He held it up. ‘You intended to free Dan when you knew what that would mean for me.’

  She swallowed. ‘Dan’s innocent. What did you expect me to do?’

  ‘Follow the rules. I told you I’d give you the evidence either if you won the game or gave yourself to me. You did neither. Instead, you gave me Lorie and stole this.’

  ‘After you stole my life. You turned it into a contest between us and I had to play dirty. I had to fight to survive. But I don’t have the power to kill you.’

  ‘You’ve already done it.’ He put the folder in his jacket. ‘Well, two can play dirty. So it all ends here tonight. And it isn’t going to be pretty.’

  ‘What are you saying?’

  ‘Saying? What use are words? Watch and you’ll see.’

  She fought a great swelling in her throat. Kept swallowing and swallowing. ‘What are you going to do?’

  Seconds went by before he reached inside his jacket again and pulled out an envelope from a concealed pocket. ‘Give this to my brother.’

  ‘What is it?’

  ‘Instructions. I want the wording on the headstone changed. I’ve said it all in here. Give it to Joel. Agreed?’

  ‘Why don’t you give . . .’

  He shook his head and her sentence dried up and he insisted she take the envelope. She looked at it and her eyes filled. When she glanced up again, she found that he was studying her as if he was trying to memorise every inch of her. She let him, without moving. His eyes were unblinking. The expression on his face was fixed and intense as he concentrated hard, his eyes shifting, taking in her neck and mouth, her hair, the structure of her face.

  ‘I actually mistook her for you.’ Silence, while he continued to weigh her carefully. He didn’t seem to be talking to her anymore. She had the sense that he was talking to himself, so she said nothing and just listened. ‘It’s evidence of the kind of weakness that’s invaded my mind and body since the first moment I saw you.’ His voice dropped to a whisper. ‘In comparison to you, she’s nothing. Nothing.’

  He slowly reached out and touched her face with the back of his fingers. Then he flipped his hand over and the tips of his fingers ran over her face and forehead, her chin and nose. He didn’t move closer, just intently examined the contours of her face. She barely dared breathe. It was almost as if he was sizing up a project, measuring dimensions, as if she was a statue and he’d lost awareness that she was still there feeling his touch, hearing his thoughts.

  ‘What happened tonight?’ she asked gently, and this broke the spell. He removed his hands now, looked at the ground.

  A rustle and some footsteps to the right and Naomi gasped and shifted her head and there was Charlie, striding towards them.

  Vincent stepped back, creating some distance between them.

  Charlie said, ‘You never told me it was a party, Vincent. What’s she doing here?’

  ‘Well, you’ve invited your boyfriend, haven’t you? He was at the hospital just now, pinning Naomi to the wall. I guessed you sent him on a spying mission before he needed to come here. So I plucked Naomi from him. I thought, if Charlie can bring a guest, why can’t I?’ Charlie said nothing to this. ‘So where is he then?’

  She shook her head. All the amusement had gone. She’d stopped walking and was standing a few metres away, hands in her jacket pockets. She was wearing tight black trousers and trainers. A black tracksuit top. Her hair was scraped off her face. Her eyes were hard, her stare intense.

  Vincent said, ‘Well, I’d better be on the lookout for him. Because he’ll be hiding here somewhere. He’s very good at that.’

  Charlie brushed her fringe out of her eyes, put a hand on her hip. ‘So have you got the documents?’

  He replied, ‘Yes.’

  Naomi was wondering what documents she was talking about. But whatever Charlie was waiting for, never came and tension was chilling the air between them.

  ‘What’s the holdup then?’

  Vincent ignored that comment and said, ‘Why’s the 4th of June significant?’

  Charlie shifted her weight. ‘What?’

  ‘4th of June. Next month. It’s the 20th anniversary of my mother’s death, which left us both motherless. Don’t you ever think of her?’

  ‘She wasn’t my freaking mother.’

  ‘You used to call her Mum even after she’d gone. For years, she looked after you and treated us equally and you never give her a second thought?’

  ‘It was a lifetime ago.’

  ‘And when she died, that’s when we both discovered we had a brother we knew nothing about. We never questioned that or what it meant.’

  ‘So Jimmy liked women. What’s your point?’

  ‘There is no point. To anything. That’s the point.’

  Charl
ie sized up Naomi now. ‘See what you’ve done to him? He used to have some balls and now he just talks a load of bollocks.’

  Vincent drew his gun from his jacket and Charlie held her hands out, palms facing forward. ‘Whoa, Vincent, what is it with you and guns at the moment? Where’s your sense of humour?’

  ‘I think it’s deserted me.’

  Naomi said, ‘Violence won’t change anything.’ She stood between Charlie and Vincent, in the firing line. ‘Put the gun away.’

  ‘You heard the nun,’ Charlie said.

  The moment Naomi moved in front of the gun, the cemetery seemed to erupt. It sounded as though the graves were opening, but it was bodies materialising out of the darkness. There was some shrieking and Camilla appeared with her arms waving, begging Vincent to put the gun down, frantically telling him enough was enough. Henry was close behind. Chaos and confusion reigned for a few seconds and then from nowhere, the guy from the hospital sprang out and Kerry Marshall appeared from a different direction and was trying to calm things down. Lorie was with her. Lorie? All of this happened at a pace and Naomi could only stand still and watch with mystification. She’d thought they were alone.

  Camilla and Henry were fixed on Naomi and hadn’t noticed Lorie, hanging back in the shadows.

  Vincent yelled, ‘Nobody move.’

  Silence settled. Vincent stepped forward and Naomi moved to one side. He trained the gun on a nearby gravestone and shot the top of it and the stone shattered.

  ‘Just in case any of you are wondering if this thing’s loaded or not.’ Nobody moved or spoke, but eyes were wildly shifting.

  They were in a misshapen circle, all of them. Dotted about. Why had the guy from the hospital come here? Charlie’s boyfriend? Naomi could only assume that Camilla and Henry had followed him. Kerry and Lorie – what were they doing here?

  ‘Lorie?’ Vincent’s voice boomed in the darkness. ‘Here.’

  Naomi watched her parents at the mention of Lorie’s name. Camilla seized Henry’s hand, and his arm with her free hand, and Henry stood rigid, his mouth open.

  Lorie stepped out of darkness. Vincent was signalling for her to stand right in front of him. Naomi felt weak with fear. Lorie slowly made it in front of him, her eyes pleading with him not to use the gun. She seemed to know better than to speak.

  ‘So Lorie isn’t dead, everyone. She’s been playing dead and working with the police and I suspect she isn’t the only one. Is she Henry?’ Vincent shouted.

  Henry didn’t move. His breathing was horribly laboured though.

  ‘Did you know she was working with the police, Henry?’

  Henry said, ‘N-no. I thought she was dead.’

  ‘Being the criminal that she is, why do you think she went to the police?’

  ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘Ask her,’ Vincent said. ‘Come forward.’

  ‘I’d rather –’

  ‘I said come forward.’

  Camilla let out a little yelp as Henry peeled away from her and took four faltering steps. He was standing beside Lorie now.

  Naomi said, urgently, ‘Vincent, please –’

  ‘Quiet. This is important.’

  ‘Tell him,’ he said to Lorie, and Lorie shook her head. Tears squeezed out of her eyes. Her arms were hanging limply in front of her. A sorry sight.

  Henry looked at her. Didn’t know what to say or do.

  ‘You two have a lot to talk about,’ Vincent said. Lorie continued to shake her head helplessly.

  She turned to Henry, though she looked at the ground. ‘I’m sorry.’

  Henry looked at Naomi, confusion in his eyes. He turned to look back at Camilla, to check if she was alright. Camilla had her hands to her face.

  Charlie was standing rigid, ready to pounce. Her boyfriend loitered just behind her, head down.

  ‘Lorie was angry with me, Henry. She blamed me for all the years of betraying you by working for me. I’ll tell you why she was angry. Because I knew something that she didn’t. And when she found out what it was, she wanted me to pay. So here we all are. Am I making sense?’

  Henry shook his head. Lorie hung hers.

  ‘I’ll reach the point then. Remember when I told you I had all your daughters in the palm of my hand?’

  Henry nodded. ‘Y-y-yes.’

  ‘I meant all of them.’ Lorie buried her face in her hands. ‘All three.’

  The ground seemed to rock. Naomi almost lost balance. She’d seen the words in the folder, but it hadn’t seemed real until now. Her instinct was to reach out and grab something for support, but the nearest thing was Vincent’s arm, the one holding the gun. Henry was looking at Camilla again who’d crouched on the ground, as if her legs had given way.

  ‘Camilla,’ Henry called. Kerry immediately shifted across and crouched beside Camilla and put an arm around her and began to mutter words no one else could hear.

  ‘It’s true, Henry,’ Vincent went on. ‘You remember Kathryn Davenport don’t you? Of course you do. You finished the relationship when you met Camilla. Kathryn was pregnant when you chucked her. She kept her child and married a guy called Shaun Taylor who’s dead now. Lorie thought Shaun was her dad, but she’d been fed a lie all her life. You’re her father. I learned all this when Lorie was eighteen. So I used her until she discovered the truth, and then she worked out her revenge against me. Hence the police.’

  Naomi’s skin was prickling. No one spoke until Charlie raised her voice.

  ‘Look, just give me the documents. I want to leave. This has nothing to do with me.’

  ‘Yes it has,’ Camilla yelled out from the ground. ‘You’re a destructive, evil snake. Should be in a pit. You’ve hurt and divided my family.’

  Charlie laughed. ‘I haven’t even started yet.’ She shifted closer to Camilla. ‘You know, when we were neighbours, Henry and I saw a lot of each other. And I mean a lot, didn’t we Henry? I think he was desperate for escape. Men get like that when their wives are saggy and frigid.’

  ‘You shut your mouth,’ Henry called.

  ‘Scared, Henry?’ she shouted back. ‘Afraid that I’ll show her the evidence?’

  ‘Evidence,’ Vincent roared. ‘Now there’s a good word.’ All eyes were on Vincent again, who’d stepped back so he could keep watch on the whole group. ‘Reggie. Come closer. Your turn.’

  ‘Leave Reggie out of this,’ Charlie called, taking her eyes off Camilla.

  ‘Can’t do that,’ Vincent said. ‘He’s very much a part of it all.’

  Charlie edged across to Reggie and took his hand, and they took slow steps to the centre of the circle. At a flick of Vincent’s gun, Lorie and Henry moved to one side and Reggie stood with Charlie now.

  ‘Is this the guy who abducted you in Manchester, Naomi?’

  Naomi wouldn’t answer. Too afraid of him being hurt, of Vincent using the gun.

  ‘Is this the guy?’ His tone was more insistent now.

  Naomi said, quietly, ‘I never saw his face.’

  ‘You’re looking at it now. What happened to the money, Reggie?’

  He closed his eyes. Opened them. ‘It’s safe.’

  ‘I bet it is. Where did you learn tricks like that?’

  ‘Like what?’

  ‘Like extracting millions from me at a bridge when I had a thermal camera, and then vanishing like magic.’

  ‘Maybe you’re not as sharp as you think you are, Vincent.’

  ‘Maybe I’m sharper than you think I am. Where did you learn tricks like that?’

  ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’

  ‘Really? Here’s a few more stunts you’ve pulled. Abducting Naomi. Knowing exactly where she’d be and when. Moving in on my group and targeting my sister. Taking her key and entering the club when I was in London. When the cat’s away . . .’

  ‘You’re deluded, Vincent,’ Charlie said.

  ‘Am I? The night I stayed in London with Naomi, you came to the club with him. I’ve recently had a camera installed
in my office which you don’t know about. Later that night, when you were asleep in his bed no doubt, he came back on his own and took a lot of photos.’

  Charlie looked at Reggie. ‘That true, Reggie?’

  Vincent said, ‘His name isn’t Reggie.’ At this comment, Charlie threw his hand away. Vincent continued, ‘He snatched Naomi to draw me out. I’d been absent for months. He knew that if he took the one thing I cared about, then it was the surest way to pull me out of the dark. Plus it gave him some credibility as an ex-con, or so he thought. But ex-cons aren’t as skilled as him. And who was supplying information in the background? Lorie.’

  Charlie spun and faced him. ‘Well?’

  He looked over his shoulder as if he was looking for a way out and the second he did, in a lightning move, Charlie had taken his legs and he was on his back.

  She looked down at him. ‘Tell me what’s going on, or I’ll break your neck.’

  Vincent said, ‘I wouldn’t try that if I were you. Chances are he’d break yours first.’

  ‘How do you know his name isn’t Reggie?’ she yelled at Vincent. As she did this, Henry was sidling over to Camilla. Naomi stood, watching, hoping he wouldn’t draw Vincent’s attention.

  ‘Don’t say I didn’t warn you about him.’

  ‘I said, how do you know his name isn’t Reggie?’ Charlie repeated.

  ‘Because I found the real Reggie. He’s keeping his head down at a rundown house in Wythenshawe. Has a girlfriend called Deanne Foster. That’s when all my suspicions were confirmed and that’s when the truth spilled out – that our father was a loser and a liar and that this guy has been quietly gathering his evidence about our business from your bed. Pretty sure he’s working undercover. Best guess? Ex-military background. Must work independently because he’s broken all the rules. Impersonating an ex-con? Extortion? Abducting a member of the public who was due in court? Standard police procedures? I think not. Even the establishment has laws. And you fell for it when you fell for him, because you’re a loser too.’

  ‘You’re deranged. He knows everything about Dad. How could he know those things?’

  ‘You’re so stupid. He probably spent a week in Strangeways. No doubt he’s done a lot of interviews and research to prepare himself. Am I right?’ Vincent yelled. The guy offered nothing. ‘See, guys like him just drift in and out, Charlie. They get initiated into drug gangs and organised crime so they can undo things from the inside out. They sleep with the women. Get the right clothes and haircut. Become fully immersed in the role, because the number one rule is that they have to be convincing. Then they relay information back to the police and arrests take place and guys like him move quietly on to the next job and no one knows how they got busted. Like ghosts, they are. He’s the second ghost I’ve seen tonight.’