by Jay Gill
Fischer sighed deeply and gathered his thoughts. “I did this job with a couple of fellas called Berg and Zippy. I hardly knew them. I didn’t want to do the job, but I owed Stan Wires. Do you know Stan Wires?”
“I’ve heard the name. Is Wires the one who put his cousin’s hand in a deep fat fryer when he found out he’d been dating his virgin daughter? What was his cousin’s name?”
“Picky. But that story isn’t true. His cousin, Picky – they call him Picky because he won’t leave his nose alone. Anyway, he burned his hand when his Rolex slipped off his wrist into a pan of boiling pasta at his brother-in-law’s restaurant. Without thinking, he stuck his hand in to get it. But the deep-fat-fryer story became legend when Stan Wires retold it. A story like that one will make anyone think twice before going near your daughter. Not many people know the truth. And everyone except Wires knows his daughter is no virgin.
“Anyway, Stan Wires is a man short for this big job he has lined up. He knows I’m good at breaking and entering but that I prefer to work alone. The trouble is, I owe him. And he’s not interested in my preferred working arrangements. He tells me it’s a quick in and out. Nobody gets hurt, he says, and he reminds me what happens to people who refuse a gig when they owe him. So, I agree to help.
“Wires had been given a tip-off about a rare green diamond called Green Star owned by a private collector. Green diamonds, and coloured gems in general, are increasing in popularity and their value is rising, and Wires wanted to get his hands on it. Naturally, the private collector, an international businesswoman who owned the house, was loaded. I mean filthy rich.
“Wires had it on good authority she was going to be away, and the house would be empty. As Wires predicted, we got into the house easy enough.
“Berg had been part of the team that installed the house security, including the safe containing the diamond. Once we’re inside we start going room to room. It was like winning the lottery. There were paintings on every wall. They looked like they belonged in a museum. They just had that look, you know, like they were worth a fortune. I know a bit about art, and I could tell. There were vases and ornaments in glass cases. But we were there for what was in the safe. The safe had the gem in it. I figured we’d do the gem, then I’d come back another time and rob the place again.
“I found out later, when Wire was found shot dead in his car, that he owed some Greeks, and it was them who insisted he get the Green Star diamond.
“Anyway, I’m following Berg and Zippy, going room to room. Remember, the place is supposed to be empty. So, we get upstairs to the master bedroom and surprise, surprise, we find a woman asleep in the bed. Just like Goldilocks, says Berg, and we’re the three bears. Zippy assumes she’s the owner of the house and the Green Star. He puts two and two together and comes up with three.
“I’m thinking we’re going to back up and get out of there. Instead, Zippy drags her out of bed and insists she opens the safe. She refuses, says she doesn’t know the combination.
“While Berg attempts to get into the safe, Zippy gets handy with Goldilocks, slapping her about, trying to get the combination. Berg is trying to concentrate on the safe. I’m in the background trying to intervene on Goldilocks’s behalf. I insist she knows nothing and tell Zippy to go easy on her. Zippy’s not listening; he even threatens me. I can see his blood’s up, and he keeps slapping her. Eventually, he gives her one slap too many and she goes down hard. I’m hoping she’s unconscious: if she’s unconscious, Zippy will leave her alone. But she’s not. The idiot killed her.”
“Christ! What a cock-up,” said Moon.
“You said it. The whole thing’s a fiasco, and it gets worse. Somehow, while trying to open the safe, Berg sets off an alarm. A separate alarm he claims he knows nothing about. We have no choice; we have to get out of there without the Green Star diamond.”
“How does Hardy’s wife fit into all this?” asked Moon.
“I’m getting to that. Turns out Goldilocks was the girlfriend of the businesswoman who owned the house and the Green Star diamond. A real piece of work called Kelly Lyle. One thing Wires neglected to tell us, or simply didn’t know, is that Lyle’s a complete psychopath. I mean she’s nuts. She makes Jack the Ripper look like an amateur. And we killed Goldilocks, real name Leanne Dupres. She and Kelly Lyle were really into each other. I mean deep affection.
“With her money and connections, it didn’t take Lyle long to discover who was behind her lover’s death and who we were. She tracked down Zippy and Berg and literally took them apart piece by piece. I was told she kept them alive for days to prolong their suffering. From what I heard, the forensics team used a scoop to collect the pieces.
“Somehow, I managed to stay one step ahead of her. Or at least that’s what I thought. The next thing I know, I’m in the frame for a string of murders because my DNA is found at each of the scenes. The women all have a similar look to Lyle’s dead girlfriend. Lyle set me up to flush me out. I find myself not only on the run from Lyle but also being pursued by two Scotland Yard murder detectives, DI Rayner and DCI Hardy. I’m their prime suspect.
“You must understand, by this point I wasn’t thinking straight. My head’s spinning. One minute I’m helping out at a break-in, the next I’m standing over the dead girlfriend of a psychopath. Then, before I know it, I’m being framed as a serial killer. And the two fellas I did the job with are carpaccio.
“I’m hiding out wherever I can. Stan Wires is nowhere to be seen. As I said, the Greeks killed him when he didn’t deliver the Green Star diamond. He got lucky. He could have been turned into chunks like Berg and Zippy.
“At the time, of course, I’m thinking Lyle got to him and I’m next. I also get word Inspector Hardy thinks it’s me that killed Stan Wires, Berg and Zippy as well as the women. Next thing I know my face is all over the TV and I’m top of Britain’s Most Wanted list.
“About this time, I’m staying with our mutual friend, DJ, party animal, pimp and small-time drug-dealing gangster, China Frizzell.
“Now China says he knows a fella who knows a fella who can stop Inspector Hardy. China explains to me that Inspector Hardy is like a bloodhound. He’s Scotland Yard’s number one manhunter. He’s the Yard’s top man when it comes to tracking down killers, especially serial killers. He tells me Hardy spent time with the FBI learning their techniques. At the time I couldn’t see a way out. I had Lyle closing in on one side and Hardy on the other. And most likely the Greeks were gunning for me too. China convinced me that if I could get a break, I could somehow get out of the country and disappear.
“I couldn’t see any other option. It’s all a bit of a blur, if I’m honest, but I agree China should arrange for me to meet a fella called Tony Horn who would scare Hardy’s wife enough for Hardy to take his eye off the ball so I could slip away.
“Here I am in the middle a storm, hanging on by my fingernails, and I think things can’t get any worse. What I didn’t know is that Horn is one of China’s junkie customers. Horn was paying off part of what he owed China by scaring Mrs Hardy. So, I agree.
“Next thing I hear is that Hardy’s wife is murdered. Horn stabbed her. In broad daylight, in the middle of a busy London street.”
“You didn’t kill her?” said Moon. Fischer shook his head. He lit another cigarette, tossed the packet to Moon and continued.
“Do you think any jury is going to think me innocent? I wasn’t holding the knife, but I as good as killed Hardy’s wife. Indirectly, Horn was working for me. Hardy has no idea I was behind it. When Horn was sent down for the murder, China made sure he was looked after and wouldn’t talk. He also made it abundantly clear to Horn that if he ever mentioned my name or China’s name it would be the last thing he ever did.”
Moon lit herself a cigarette. She brought her knees up under her chin and listened. “What happened next?”
“That’s the ironic thing. It didn’t slow Hardy down at all. I thought the death of his wife would destroy his willpower, but it didn’t.
It simply made him more determined. You’ve got to admire the guy’s tenacity. The guy’s a machine. He’s so distraught he throws himself into his work. Hardy redoubles his efforts, working day and night. Then, he gets a tip-off, and I get picked up.”
“Who tipped him off?”
“Kelly Lyle. She visited me in prison and told me so herself. It must also have been her or one of her lackey followers who killed all the women I was framed for. She must have hoped the police would flush me out so she could pick me off. In the end she settled for seeing me behind bars until the time came that she could treat me to the same fate as Berg and Zippy. I was like a treat you set aside for a rainy day.”
“You’ve been through hell, baby. That’s all behind you now.”
“I pray you’re right. In a day or so, we’ll send Hardy a message for the years I lost behind bars. Then we’re out of here. We’ll go somewhere no one will ever find us.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Cotton picked up her shopping bag. She was kicking herself that she’d had to buy one; her understairs cupboard was full of them. She took her keys from her handbag and walked to her car.
“Emma, isn’t it? Emma Cotton?”
Cotton turned and looked blankly at the woman in front of her. “Yes. Do we know each other? I’m usually excellent with faces.”
“No, we don’t know each other. Do you have a minute? Do you think we might talk in your car? I need to discuss something private.”
The woman was about her own height and build, her hair brown and shoulder length and not quite tidy. She wore no makeup, and her lips looked dry. Cotton noticed her clenched hands trembling.
“Follow me,” Cotton told her. “I’m parked just here. I didn’t catch your name.”
“Louise Greenslade. I’m sorry to bother you like this. It’s important we talk.”
Cotton opened the car. She dumped her shopping in the back while Louise got in the passenger seat. As Cotton closed the back door, she looked through the car and noticed Louise looking around nervously.
“There,” said Cotton, climbing into her seat, closing her car door and turning to face Louise. “How can I help?”
Louise closed her eyes as she gathered her thoughts. “Difficult to know where to start. It’s about Alex. Alex Nash. He’s the dentist you’ve been seeing.”
Suddenly Cotton felt a tsunami of emotions sweep through her body. Feelings she had never known were there: jealousy, annoyance, anger, curiosity. Cotton gripped those feelings and held them tightly; she smiled pleasantly. “You know Alex?”
“It’s not what you think,” Louise said. “It was, but it’s not now. This is embarrassing. I’m not sure I should say anything.”
“You’re here now, so why not tell me what’s on your mind.”
“You’re annoyed. Forget it – I’m sorry. I shouldn’t interfere. Only, I’m worried for you.” Louise was trembling all over now. Even her voice shook. “Alex is not what you think. He’s charming, educated, wealthy and handsome.”
Cotton felt her heart skip a beat as Louise spoke about the man she was falling for.
Louise’s breathing quickened. She looked around outside the car before leaning closer to Cotton. “He’s very controlling.”
“What does that mean? Who are you?”
“I was with Alex for several years. Everything was lovely at the beginning. I couldn’t believe my luck. I’d met the perfect man and he wanted me. Then, slowly, things began to change. I didn’t see it immediately. Bit by bit Alex dictated who I could see, when and for how long. Later, as his control tightened, he would fly into jealous rages over the smallest thing. He’s manipulative, threatening and violent. By the end I was like a robot. I became depressed. I even tried to commit suicide. I’ve been in and out of hospital ever since.”
“Did you report any of this to the police?”
“I tried, but he’d always find a way to make it look like it was me. He’d tell them I was on medication or depressed or clumsy or even violent myself and that he was the victim. He’d convince them he was the long-suffering husband who was standing by me and doing all he could to help me.”
“These are very serious allegations, Louise. You realise that. If they’re true, I can help you. We can put a case together.”
Louise suddenly looked very pale. “No. Definitely not. I’m trying to get my life back together. I don’t want anything to do with him. I’m only here to warn you. Stay away from him.” She grabbed the door handle and got out, then leaned back inside the car. “Whatever you do, don’t tell him we spoke. I’m afraid of what he might do.” Then she was gone.
Cotton got out of the car to stop her – she had more questions – but Louise was running, head down, out of the car park.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Sunday morning and the street was quiet. Fischer and Moon sat in the black Ford Galaxy watching the house. Moon was turned in her seat; her shoes were off and her feet were across Fischer’s lap. She chewed gum as she scrolled through YouTube on her mobile phone. Without looking up, she asked, “Why are we just sitting here? I’m bored. Can we go now?”
Fischer flicked his cigarette stub out the car window and ignored her. He shook his packet of Marlboros, took out the last cigarette, crushed the packet and tossed it over his shoulder onto the back seat.
“My phone is low on charge. If we’re just going to sit in the car for hours on end, we need to get a car charger for my phone. How much longer?”
“You sound like a little kid. You ask the same question every five minutes. Just give it rest.”
“I could’ve just stayed back at the house.”
“I told you. I don’t trust you,” said Fischer.
“And I told you, no more coke or weed. I’m going to be a saint from now on.” Moon traced a halo above her head. “Saint Faye. The good Catholic girl you always wanted. I guess that’s what turns you on these days.”
“I also don’t want to leave you with Judy.”
“What do you take me for? I wouldn’t touch Judy. She’s sweet. A bit moody, though.”
Fischer raised his eyebrows and gave Moon a look that implied he didn’t believe her. “She has a right to be moody. She’s tied up and gagged in the middle of her own kitchen.”
Moon gave a little giggle and said, “I wouldn’t touch her. Unless I got really, really, really bored.”
Fischer sat up straight. Moon looked up from her phone. “What is it?” She twisted around in her seat, slipped her feet back into her shoes and followed Fischer’s eyes as he studied the house.
The front door opened and a teenage girl came storming out. Slung over her shoulder was a black leather shoulder bag. She was wearing tight navy-blue jeans, black ankle boots and a cropped black sweater. Her straight blonde hair covered her ears. It was down to her jawline on one side and down to her shoulder on the other.
She was arguing with a woman who followed her onto the front step. They were really going at it. A man came to the door as well, pushed past the woman and started yelling and pointing at the teenage girl.
“Who are these people? Why are we here?” asked Moon. “Why aren’t you telling me what’s going on?”
“Just hush for a minute.”
The teenage girl threw her arms up in the air, yelled at her parents, then stormed down the front path and away from the house. She marched at speed for a few metres and then slowed, took out her mobile phone and put it to her ear.
Moon looked at Fischer; his eyes followed the girl.
“Put your seatbelt on,” said Fischer. He waited for the man and woman to go back inside the house and close the door, then he started the car.
“Where are we going, baby? She’s a little young, don’t you think?”
“Sit back and shut up. Just for ten minutes, please, be quiet. I’m trying to think.”
“Moody git,” she muttered as she clicked her seatbelt into place. Curiosity quickly took over, and she wasn’t mad at Fischer for long.
&n
bsp; Fischer followed the girl, staying well back and out of sight. She walked to a children’s play park. Fischer parked the car. He reached into the glovebox and took out a new pack of Marlboros. He lit one up and passed the pack to Moon. Fischer wound down his window to release the smoke and watched as the teenage girl crossed the green to the children’s play area. She waved to a fitful toddler as she passed. The toddler’s father had lifted his little girl off the roundabout and now fought to get her into a pushchair. The child arched her back and resisted with all her might.
The teenage girl headed towards the larger children’s swings. She perched on the middle one and gently rocked herself back and forth with her heels while making another phone call. She spoke briefly then hung up. She then continued rocking back and forth while staring at her phone.
Moon’s attention switched back and forth between the teenager and Fischer. She’d not seen him this way before. He was anxious; his breathing was rapid. He smoked furiously.
After watching the teenage girl for a few minutes, Fischer said, “Wait here. Don’t get out of the car. You hear me?”
Moon took off her seatbelt, slumped down in her seat and grunted.
Fischer got out of the car and headed across the green towards the teenager. He looked back at the car to make sure Moon wasn’t following. Moon was now kneeling on her seat with her elbows on the dashboard, watching. She gave Fischer the finger and smiled mockingly. She watched in disbelief as he tidied his hair and straightened his clothes.
The teenager looked up as Fischer approached. She stopped rocking back and forth, then got off the swing and stood behind it, putting the seat between her and the man.
“If you’re some sick perv or rapist, back off!” said the teenager. “You come near me and I’ll cut your balls off and feed ’em to you.” To back up her threat, the girl reached down into her shoulder bag, which was on the ground beside the swing, and produced a knife with a six-inch blade. “I saw you and your girlfriend following me. Whatever your sick game is, I’m not into it, so fuck off.” The teenager tossed her hair back and thrust the knife towards him.
