by A A Abbott
Below, he heard the police, a man and a woman, talking as they searched the flat.
“The bed’s still warm, Kyle. Will you check the wardrobe?”
“Scared to look at his manhood, Nat? He’s no use to you; he bats for the other side.”
They established quickly enough that Vince wasn’t in the studio.
“He can’t have got far, Nat,” the man said. “We’ll get him sooner or later.”
“Everyone else is in custody,” she said. “Jonathan Halloran’s already inside.”
Vince jolted upright at the mention of Jon’s name, almost falling off the timber support. Horrified, he continued to listen.
Kyle laughed. “Those woodentops in Hertfordshire must have had a shock when the family dog turned up with a human bone. Goodness knows what they thought they had on their hands: a witches’ coven, or some such.”
“They were investigating a holiday scam, weren’t they?” Nat said.
“Something like that,” Kyle said. “The vegan who said she was made ill by a chicken curry. You couldn’t make it up.”
“I blame the lawyers,” she said. “I was cold-called today and asked if I’d been on holiday. They said I could make a food poisoning claim if I had.”
“I bet you told them to get lost, didn’t you?” Kyle said. “Next time, get their number and report it.” He sighed. “Let’s go. I suppose we have to try that address in West Ham next. It’s been a good day, though. Enough information to give one Halloran a life sentence, and another one dead.”
“Shaun, the dead man, is the father, isn’t he?” Nat said, as Vince was puzzling over Kyle’s last remark.
A sudden gust of wind outside rattled through the roof tiles, whipping up the dust. As it filled Vince’s mouth and nose, he struggled to breath. His cough and sneeze were instinctive. Caught unawares, his body jerked; enough to topple him from his precarious perch. One of his legs crashed through the flimsy plasterboard of the studio’s ceiling.
“What have we here?” Kyle asked, his voice heavy with irony.
Chapter 49.
Kat
It was Kat’s first day back at the distillery. Thick make-up covered her bruises. Her heart would take longer to heal. Still, she told herself, she was lucky: Dee, while recovering, remained in hospital.
No longer pregnant, the only answer to the maelstrom of emotions swirling within her was to throw herself into her work.
Marty called within the first hour. “How are you getting on?” he asked, his voice uncharacteristically gentle.
“Fine,” Kat said. “No sudden crises erupted in my absence.” She’d only been away for a week.
“Glad to hear it,” he said. “I’d never be able to let you take a holiday otherwise. Listen, I’ve been investigating new factory units for you. There are a couple up for auction. Can you come over later to discuss your needs, please?”
How typical of Marty to look at auction properties. He wouldn’t knowingly overpay for anything.
“Is Tim there?” she asked.
“No, he’s on the road.”
That was a relief. “I can be there at three,” she said.
She’d avoided Tim since the miscarriage. An unfamiliar, and devastating, sensation of guilt overwhelmed her. He’d trusted her to carry his child, and she’d failed him. She could never atone for that.
Kat busied herself until the last minute, lighting a cigarette the second she was outside the building. She’d turned to nicotine for emotional support. Tempted though she was to smoke in the distillery, she wasn’t about to risk an explosion.
A gold Subaru was parked in the street. Kat turned on her heel and marched away. She hoped he’d think she hadn’t seen him.
She heard footsteps. “Hello, stranger.”
“Tim.” She couldn’t ignore him any longer. With a deep breath, she spun around and looked into his blue eyes. “I’m sorry.”
“You’ve got nothing to apologise for.”
“I brought it on myself – on the baby. If I hadn’t chased easy money to work for Shaun all those years ago, none of this would have happened.” She began to cry.
“Don’t. Kat, you mustn’t blame yourself. That’s the road to madness. He was a psychopath.” Tim kissed her lips.
The familiar desire surged through her.
“I don’t want to stop doing this, but I have to,” Tim said. “I’ve got a question I should have asked you months ago, but I was too chicken. Will you marry me, Kat?”
She stared at him, so astonished that the flow of tears stemmed. “I thought you’d never ask.”
“And I was afraid you’d never say yes,” Tim said.
Caution held her back. “Is it because of the baby – because you feel sorry for me?”
Tim shook his head, his eyes pleading. “No, although I sympathise, without a doubt. I’m asking because I love you and I want to spend my life with you. So, what’s your answer?”
Chapter 50.
Ben
The funeral had taken place in Wanstead, in a Roman Catholic church to which the Halloran clan returned like homing pigeons on high days and holidays. Ben had paid for a wake afterwards, but didn’t attend, deterred by glares and hisses from his cousins during the requiem mass. That didn’t sting as much as his brother’s reaction. Jon, shackled between two prison officers, had refused to speak to him.
Instead, Ben drove to the White Horse, a pub he knew his father had enjoyed visiting in happier times, and drank a pint of lager in remembrance. Then, realising from the regulars’ stares that he was recognised, he left. In the pub’s car park, he found all of the GTi’s tyres were flat. They’d been punctured with nails.
He arranged for a breakdown truck to tow the car to a garage, then took an Uber to his favourite café in Hackney. He’d lost the appetite for shoot’em ups, but escaping into a fantasy game took his mind off the past again. He didn’t even notice Kyle Lassiter’s arrival.
“Hello, Ben.”
He looked up to see the policeman, wearing jeans and hoodie like half the café’s patrons. Out of uniform, Lassiter still displayed the self-importance of the prefect in the playground.
“Plainclothes visit, is it, Kyle?”
Lassiter coughed. “I’m off duty,” he said. His features formed themselves into a semblance of sympathy. “I’m sorry about your dad. I know you tried to get him to give himself up.”
“It’s history,” Ben said. “I’m glad it’s over.”
It wasn’t over, of course, although the police had eventually accepted his version of events. He’d been arrested on suspicion of murder, but then it turned out that Dee had spoken up for him.
No one could prove he was involved in his father’s escape, either, and he wasn’t telling Lassiter. Nor would he speak about the guilt, sorrow, fear and relief that churned in his mind when he wasn’t gaming. During his schooldays, he’d learned not to let emotions show.
“I just wondered,” Lassiter said. “My kid brother loves these games. He’d like to get into eSports. Would you talk to him about it?”
“All right,” Ben said. “Send him into the café. I spend time here most days, unless I’m away at a tournament.”
“I’ll tell him,” Lassiter said. “Thanks. I just thought it would keep him on the straight and narrow.”
“Okay,” Ben said, reluctant to prolong the conversation. “I’m starting another game in a second. I’ll see you around.”
He guessed he’d had as much of an apology as he was ever going to get.
Chapter 51.
Marty
“Another day, another beer,” Marty said, kicking off his shoes and heading for the kitchen. “What’s for dinner, Angela?”
Her voice carried from the floor above. “I thought we could go out. In fact, I’ve booked a table.”
“I’ll go anywhere that’s not a salad bar,” he called to her, helping himself to a bottle of Two Towers Birmingham Mild. If she jibbed at the calorie count, he’d tell her it was ful
l of vitamins.
Angela appeared, clad in the same silver dress she’d worn to the wedding that didn’t happen. She must have received compliments for it. It hadn’t stopped her buying a new one, hanging in the wardrobe to wear when Charles and Dee finally rescheduled.
“Tim tells me you’ve got lots to celebrate,” she said.
“Yes, there’s money in the bank, Erik’s cancer research is back on, and I’ve got outline planning permission for Florence Street.”
His elderly warehouse would be replaced by shiny student flats. He wouldn’t be sorry to leave. The story of Hajji and Hero Couriers across the road was beginning to unfold in a criminal court: a fantastical tale of four jihadi terrorists and a police sting.
“And there’s more,” Angela said. “I hear you’ve got a major supermarket deal for Starshine vodka.”
“You’re well-informed,” Marty said.
Angela smiled. “I had a cup of tea with Kat and Tim. Aren’t they besotted with each other? What a lovely young couple.”
Marty winced. “I wouldn’t go that far,” he said. “At least, for half of the duo.”
“Kat’s pretty, though, isn’t she?” Angela teased. “You know,” she added, “Tim said the Starshine deal was all down to her.”
“It was,” Marty admitted. “Those supermarket buyers aren’t easy people to deal with, and she ran rings round them.”
He’d been impressed by Kat’s negotiating skills and energy. Her new distillery was up and running too. Buying a factory at auction, he’d completed on the purchase quickly, securing a bank loan with no fuss once Ray saw the order book. Kat had been equally swift to acquire equipment and staff. She was producing ten times as much vodka as before. When she set her mind to it, she could achieve great results.
“I like her,” Angela stated, baldly. “She went through hell, but she’s bouncing back. She always does. You see her as a gold-digger sinking her hooks into Tim, but suppose it’s the other way round? Kat could be a goldmine for you.”
His wife was right, of course, but if he told her, she’d be unbearably smug. Marty kept quiet.
“Anyway,” Angela said, “Tim and Kat don’t have much money, so I’ve offered them a marquee in our garden for their wedding.”
Marty admitted defeat. “Fine,” he said. “As long as there’s Starshine vodka, and beer to drink, I’m happy.” He sidled to the fridge for a second bottle. It was time to start practising.
THANK YOU
Thank you for reading The Revenge Trail - I hope you enjoyed it! As an author who wrote and published the book myself, it means a lot to me when happy readers like you tell others about it. I’d really appreciate it if you’d leave a review on Amazon, Goodreads or your blog - even better, on all of them.
I’d love to stay in touch with you, too. If you sign up for my newsletter at https://aaabbott.co.uk, I’ll send you a free e-book of short stories. You’ll also receive news about forthcoming books and live fiction events. I hope you can get to one; it would be wonderful to meet you.
Do connect with me on Twitter (@AAAbbottStories) and Facebook too. If you have a few minutes spare, read my blog and the free stories at https://aaabbott.co.uk.
You’d also enjoy the other books in the Trail Series, each of which follows the same characters but is a separate story in its own right:
The Bride’s Trail is the first book in the series. Beginning in central London, the trail leads to secret tunnels under Birmingham’s Jewellery Quarter - which really exist! Glamorous croupier Kat marries illegal immigrants for cash to fund her party lifestyle, and disappears when the police start looking for her. At the same time, Shaun realises twenty grand is missing from his casino, and he thinks he knows who’s taken it...
The Vodka Trail is the sequel to The Bride’s Trail. Kat wants to reclaim her family’s vodka business in Bazakistan. She’s always blamed businessman Marty for her father’s death, but when she’s kidnapped by Bazaki terrorists, only Marty can save her life.
The Grass Trail, third in the series, sees killer Shaun stalking Kat from the confines of his prison cell. Thanks to him, her brother Erik ends up fighting for his life. Kat, meanwhile, develops a craft vodka brand – but should she trust her handsome new lover and business partner?
All of the Trail Series books are available as e-books, traditional paperbacks and large print, dyslexia-friendly format (ideal for the visually impaired, sufferers from visual stress, dyslexic readers and anyone who prefers a large print size).
As you might expect, the Trail Series books have been professionally edited, and I also received feedback on each draft from twenty readers. That really made sure each book was a thrilling read!
There are two earlier crime thrillers you’d also like:
Up In Smoke features Big Tobacco, counterfeit cigarettes and corporate espionage. It’s not just smoking that kills!
After The Interview is a thrilling story of big egos, blackmail and murder in IT companies.
All of my books are also a tale of two cities, London and Birmingham, and often too, of the tensions between them. Have fun reading each story – and please let me know what you think!
AA Abbott
AND A WORD OF THANKS TO MY TEAM…
Thanks to everyone who helped me make this book great. Thanks especially to:
Editor Katharine D’Souza
Wedding planner Janet Eboh-Sampson of Lotus Event Management
Lawyer Katherine Evans
Ali AElsey
Andy Conway
Carolyn Stubbs
Chris Hills
David Massey
David Wake
Dawn Abigail
Dennis Zaslona
Garry Hyde
Greg Howl
Helen Combe
Jeremy White
Jo Ullah
Karen Johnson
Laura Jane Gallagher
Michelle Armitage
Najum Qureshi
Nigel Howl
Patricia Gregory
Paula Good
Pete Crawford
Suzanne Ferris
Tiffany Elliott
Tim Kindberg
I really appreciate your help!
A.A. Abbott
BY A.A. ABBOTT
Up In Smoke
After The Interview
The Bride’s Trail
The Vodka Trail
The Grass Trail
The Revenge Trail
Contents
Chapter 1.Marty
Chapter 2.Kat
Chapter 3.Marty
Chapter 4.Kat
Chapter 5.Marty
Chapter 6.Ben
Chapter 7.Kat
Chapter 8.Vince
Chapter 9.Shaun
Chapter 10.Vince
Chapter 11.Marty
Chapter 12.Shaun
Chapter 13.Kat
Chapter 14.Vince
Chapter 15.Marty
Chapter 16.Vince
Chapter 17.Kat
Chapter 18.Shaun
Chapter 19.Kat
Chapter 20.Vince
Chapter 21.Kat
Chapter 22.Vince
Chapter 23.Kat
Chapter 24.Marty
Chapter 25.Kat
Chapter 26.Ben
Chapter 27.Shaun
Chapter 28.Vince
Chapter 29.Marty
Chapter 30.Shaun
Chapter 31.Vince
Chapter 32.Marty
Chapter 33.Shaun
Chapter 34.Kat
Chapter 35.Shaun
Chapter 36.Marty
Chapter 37.Vince
Chapter 38.Shaun
Chapter 39.Vince
Chapter 40.Shaun
Chapter 41.Kat
Chapter 42.Shaun
Chapter 43.Ben
Chapter 44.Kat
Chapter 45.Ben
Chapter 46.Marty
Chapter 47.Kat
Chapter 48.Vince
Chapter 49.Kat
Chapter 50.Ben
Chapter 51.Marty
