‘What happened?’ said Leanne.
‘Everyone was pissed, really pissed. Mr Sharrocks comes down for another bottle and the bell goes. There’s two blokes from London not arrived yet, so he goes to see if it’s them. I couldn’t see anything. There was screaming, a woman. Mackinlay goes out and comes back and says to stay out of the hall. Tells me to wait with the visitor. This bloke, he just goes, he could tell there was something wrong. Mr Mackinlay rings Mr Johnson.’ Martin swallowed and rubbed his eyes. ‘Mr Sharrocks comes in then. He’s all covered with blood. He says, ‘She was hysterical, I can’t bear hysterical women.’ Mr Mackinlay tells him to shut up and Mr Sharrocks says, ‘She was onto us, she’d come for her boy. I did it for all of us.’ He’s going on and on. Mr Mackinlay slaps him and he’s quiet.’ Martin looked up at me. ‘But I know now, I know. They’re never going to let me go. They’ll find me.’
Leanne’s face was blank. All expression wiped out. She lowered the gun and put it in her pocket. That’s why she’d called in at the squat. For a gun, not a tampon.
‘How did you get away?’ Max asked in a hoarse voice.
‘Bathroom window. I’ve been planning it, waiting for a chance.’
I turned aside and gulped fresh air. Pushed away the pictures conjured up by Martin’s story.
‘Come on,’ I said. ‘We’ve a car over at the gates.’ Then I heard footsteps. So did Martin.
‘Someone’s coming,’ he said. And my guts dissolved.
CHAPTER FORTY ONE
‘Wait here.’ I stepped out from the foot of the colonnade and walked over to the path. Squinting into the gloom, I made out a figure. As he drew nearer, I recognised the combination of spectacles, moustache and long stylish raincoat. I began to breathe again. Detective Inspector Miller. Relief. The cavalry had arrived.
‘It’s alright,’ I called back to the others. ‘I know who it is.’
I walked over to Miller.
‘You got my message. Martin’s here, and he knows who killed Janice Brookes. It wasn’t Derek Carlton – he was set up. There’s more besides. But I think we need to get him to safety, he’s petrified. Convinced that the people involved will kill him to keep him quiet.’
Miller nodded. The cynical look hadn’t left his eyes. He’d still got me labelled as an interfering neurotic but at least he’d come when I needed him.
‘I’ll just explain who you are,’ I said. ‘He might bolt if he doesn’t understand.’
I crossed the wet grass back to the others. Martin was still shaking, his eyes darting to and fro. I placed my hands on his shoulders and looked him full in the face.
‘Martin, the police are here.’ He jerked. ‘It’s okay, I’ve told them roughly what’s happened. The rest can wait. They’ll find a safe place for you. They’ll be able to protect you and make sure the right people are sent down for this. Understand?’ He gave a small nod. Max, at his side, remained still and quiet.
Leanne leant back against the wall opposite, narrowing her eyes.
‘Okay, Inspector,’ I shouted.
Miller walked forward into view, a few yards in front of us.
‘No,’ Martin said softly, ‘no.’ He screamed in desperation. ‘That’s him, that’s Mr Johnson.’
Oh, shit. My heart kicked at my breasts. I saw movement from Leanne, as she darted forward, then I reeled as the sharp, cracking sound pierced my ear-drums. Miller hit the ground and Leanne ran off between the columns and behind the monument. I struggled to make sense of what was happening. I could smell the bitter scent of gunpowder. My ears were singing.
‘Oh, shit,’ said Martin. ‘She’s killed him.’
I moved, then froze at the sound of footsteps running on the path. Another man appeared. He wore a dark suit, a light shirt. He looked as though he was laughing. He stopped beside Miller and dropped onto one knee.
‘Smiley,’ Martin said. I felt him swoon beside me and slither down the wall, till he was crouching at our feet. I looked at Max. Saw my own fear staring back at me.
Miller murmured something and I heard Smiley answer no. Then Smiley handed Miller his glasses and helped him up. Miller brushed down his coat. He was unhurt. Leanne had missed; he’d just been playing safe. The two men quickly covered the ground to where we were. Stood framed in the entrance. No-one spoke. My right knee was jerking. I hoped they wouldn’t notice.
‘You’ve hurt your face,’ said Miller.
‘Sticking it where it’s not wanted.’ Smiley stepped inside.
‘Who’s this?’ Miller gestured to Max.
‘He doesn’t know anything,’ I said. ‘Let him go.’
‘We’re not stupid, Miss Kilkenny,’ said Miller.
‘Think murder’s clever, do you?’ I retorted.
Smiley breathed in sharply, then brought a gun out from his suit, held it up against my head, cool on my temple. I felt absurd relief. It wasn’t a knife, he wouldn’t cut me like the other one had. It didn’t last. Giddy with fear, I heard my mouth running on. ‘People know we’re here, you know. What are you planning to do? Kill us all? Bit over the top, isn’t it? Four corpses.’
‘Oh, it’ll be front page,’ said Miller. ‘Crack Addict Massacre. We’ll piece it together. Hobbs, a runaway, lured you all up here. Said he was in trouble.’ Miller tilted his head to the side as though he was dreaming up the next bit. ‘But he wanted money, he needed to get a fix. You refused; there was a scuffle. He flipped. The three of you were shot at close-quarters, your pockets emptied. We found Hobbs in the city centre, a couple of hours later. He’d managed to score. He made a verbal confession on the way to the nick, told us where to find the gun. He still had some of your property in his pockets. Sadly’ he paused and smiled. I smelt mint, ‘sadly, before we could get the police doctor to him, he’d gone into a drug-induced coma. He never recovered.’
‘Just like JB’ My bowels were churning. ‘How did you fix his overdose? He’d never have let you near him with a needle.’
‘I like the old-fashioned ways myself,’ said Smiley. ‘Take someone by surprise, give ‘em a good whiff of chloroform. Few seconds, they’re out of it. All the time in the world, then. Set it up just right.’
‘Why?’ I said. ‘He found out about Sharrocks. He realised Martin had got mixed up with a paedophiles’ ring. That was it, wasn’t it?’
‘A little knowledge is such a dangerous thing,’ said Miller sarcastically.
‘You wouldn’t be told,’ said Smiley. ‘You ignored the paint; off you trot, bothering Mr Kenton. He wasn’t pleased. So I rang you, to make things clear.’ He leaned even closer to make his point. ‘What did you do, stupid cow, you go off sniffing round Mr Mackinlay. Well, when he let us know, I had to send the boys, show you we meant business. But you wouldn’t drop it, would you?’
I resisted the urge to explain; that I thought I had dropped it – I hadn’t realised it was one big conspiracy. I imagined them all on their car phones complaining about me, while I lumbered around.
I got flippant then. ‘You’re giving me a headache,’ I said to Smiley. He clicked the trigger. My bones ran soft. I darted a look at Max and he winked. I couldn’t believe it. He did it again, a slow deliberate wink. He’d cracked.
‘Get the girl,’ Miller instructed Smiley. ‘I’m getting piss wet out here.’ Smiley moved the gun from my head, edged away and swung out through the back of the tower. Miller stepped in, slid out his own gun and trained it on me.
‘You better sort out which one you’re using,’ I said, ‘or it’ll bugger up the forensics, won’t it? Did you get the results you wanted on Derek?’
He gave me a warm smile. ‘Turned out nicely. Fingerprints on the steering wheel, hair on the dead woman’s clothing. We can place him in the car. That’s all we need.’
‘What’s in it for you?’ I asked. ‘You like raping children too?’
His jaw tensed. The gun slammed across my cheekbone, heavy enough to jolt my jaw and neck. The burning turned to numbness. I put my hand up and felt for damag
e. The stitches were split, the wound had burst open. It felt sticky.
‘I’m a rich man,’ Miller said. ‘Perversion doesn’t interest me. Money does. I’m not about to give that up.’ He was on the payroll. A cop who could sort out any difficulties with the law. That would go for the pornography they were producing, as well as the abuse. He could even turn his hand to a stupid mistake like murder.
Max began to make a huffing noise, covering his glasses with his hands. The sound echoed in the damp air. I leaned over towards him and put my arm round his shoulder.
‘Very touching,’ muttered Miller. ‘Smiley, what the fuck are you playing at?’
As he yelled, Max pulled my head close. ‘Get down,’ he whispered. I began to slide down to Martin’s level. A flash of anger stopped me, half-way down. He was about to pull some stupid macho stunt that’d get us all shot. Before I could straighten up and caution him, I saw Max’s leg flick out. His foot, his trainer, kicked hard at Miller’s hand. I heard a snapping sound. Miller gasped and the gun flew up. Max kicked again, at his balls now. Miller groaned and began to double up. Max’s hand flew out and slashed at his windpipe, the other hand at his shoulder. The force sent him keeling over backwards. When he hit the ground, I heard the air woof out of his body. Max rubbed at his hand.
‘Judo?’ I asked. Oh, you wonderful boy.
‘Aikido,’ he grinned. ‘Where’d the gun go?’
I shrugged. ‘It’s so dark. Is he dead?’
‘Bloody hell, I hope not. He should be out for a couple of hours, though.’
I shuddered. A gunshot rapped out somewhere behind us, making me start. Leanne or Smiley? We waited in silence. There was the sound of footsteps running, shoes not trainers. My heart was thumping in my ears, muffling other noises.
Smiley appeared, gun in hand. ‘She’s taken off, scared...’ He stopped short when he saw Miller, approached slowly, swinging round and back like a paratrooper in a film.
He knelt down and put a hand to Miller’s neck.
‘He’s dying,’ I bluffed. ‘You can’t save him now. Max’s a karate expert; he’s ruptured his kidneys and damaged most of the internal organs. He’s bleeding to death from the inside.’
He shook Miller. ‘You’re lying,’ he screeched.
‘Without Miller, there’s no way you can make it work. Who’s going to falsify the confession, put the gun in the right place, arrest Martin?’
I was irritating him. ‘Shut it.’ He shoved the gun down in the direction of Martin. ‘This’ll have his prints on. I can make him O.D. here. It doesn’t matter, they can figure it out.’
‘They’ll know it stinks,’ I said.
‘It doesn’t fucking matter,’ he shouted in desperation, the gun waving in his hand. He fought for calm and levelled the gun at me. I wouldn’t beg. I’d pleaded before, with the man who held a kitchen knife to my throat. I’d begged and he’d stuck the knife in anyway.
I licked my lips. The buzzing in my ears grew louder. I wouldn’t be able to go swimming with Maddie.
There was a click, then a crack, and Smiley jerked to the side. He staggered back a couple of steps, then stood teetering on his feet. I smelt cordite again. He levelled the gun and squeezed the trigger gently.
I was slammed back against the stone. The shot rang out. My arm sang with pain. The ground drifted.
Smiley dropped to his knees. The gun slipped from his fingers. I couldn’t see where he’d been hit. Leanne came running.
‘He thought I’d gone,’ she said. ‘Now I’ve got him.’ She knelt in front of him and placed the muzzle up against his forehead.
‘Leanne, no,’ I croaked.
‘You killed Derek,’ she said, matter-of-fact. The gun clicked. There was a dreamy look in Smiley’s eyes.
‘He couldn’t swim,’ he said. ‘We had to keep Sharrocks out of it.’
She nodded. ‘He supplied the kids. Did you ever go to the parties, Smiley? We used to have them at Hanley Court or we’d go off in the minibus. Special games we had to play.’ Her voice was so low I could only just hear her. ‘Secret games. Always lots of visitors. We got sweets. Mars Bars. He always brought Mars Bars.’
Someone likes chocolate – that was what Nina had said – lots of Mars Bar wrappers in the rubbish.
‘Leanne.’ I leant forward.
The explosion made me recoil.
‘Oh, Jesus Christ.’ Max ran over.
She was still kneeling beside Smiley. Blood was spurting, a pulsing fountain where his head had been. I could see his brains, smell the hot iron scent.
Max moved to pull Leanne aside.
‘Fuck off.’ She flung his hand away. Stumbled to her feet and began to run. There were dark patches on her hair and her jacket.
‘Leanne!’ I struggled to get some volume. ‘We’ll tell them what happened. Wait, it’ll be alright.’ She disappeared from view.
I could feel shock, its open arms ready to claim me. But I needed to get safe first.
‘Martin.’ I edged over to him and ruffled his hair. ‘Martin, we have to go. Smiley won’t bother us now. Miller – Mr Johnson’s – passed out.’ Martin looked up, eyes groggy.
‘I’ll bring him,’ said Max. ‘Can you walk?’
‘Yes.’
My feet were a long way from my head, If I watched them, it was easier to make them move where I wanted them to. I could hear Max beside me, panting, as he carried Martin. The drizzle had stopped. My face was wet. I wasn’t crying, was I? There was something important I had to tell Max. My mind slid around the edges of it.
There was the Mini. But the gate was shut.
‘Oh, no.’ Max had forgotten too.
My right palm was wet. I turned it over, made out black, trickling along the creases.
‘You go,’ I said, ‘ring an ambulance, take the car.’
‘I haven’t taken my test, yet.’
We both laughed. A moment of delirium.
‘My keys are in this pocket, can you get them?’ I was too weak to wrestle in my jeans pocket. Max sat Martin up against the gate, then retrieved the keys.
I remembered what was important. ‘Max, ring Harry. Don’t talk to anyone else. Tell Harry I’m hurt, tell him we need Y Department. The police are mixed up in it. Don’t talk to anyone till Harry’s here.’
‘What’s his number?’
I reeled it off. Gingerly, I lowered myself down next to Martin. The gate shook as Max clambered over and leapt down the other side. I heard him drive away.
It was quiet, not much traffic now. The numbness had spread up from my arm and shoulder. I couldn’t feel the right side of my face. I heard a siren sing-song in the distance and, a little later, the chocker-chocker of the police helicopter, down to the south towards the city, where the sky was bleeding mandarin. Should be up here mate, I thought. It’s all happening here.
The siren sound got stuck in my ears, whining on and on. I was thirsty. I could taste metal, smell blood. Martin stirred. I reached out for his hand. It was small, smooth, the nails ragged. It felt nice – this hand in mine. I wanted to cry. I felt warm piss leak through my pants.
‘Martin,’ I whispered, ‘are you there?’ He was quiet.
I heard a dog bark once, a long way off. I thought of Digger. Then there was nothing.
CHAPTER FORTY TWO
They called it a graze. Christ, I hate that euphemism. They said the same thing when I had Maddie. If you weren’t actually torn limb from limb, it was just a graze. Unmitigated bloody agony, more like.
But even grazes heal with time.
Justice sure isn’t swift. It’s March now. The grape hyacinths are out, eight months have passed, winter’s come and gone and the trial still hasn’t started.
The police spent days interviewing us: Max, Martin and myself. Going over and over our story. They didn’t like what they were hearing. Harry got us a good solicitor. She was there all the time. Calm and clear. Making sure it was all above-board.
Bruce Sharrocks and DI Miller were reman
ded on bail. Eddie Kenton got sent down. They seized some of his video collection. He was shipping it as far as the Philippines, using Mackinlay’s business network. Mackinlay made himself scarce. Left the country. Probably chartered his own bloody plane. Some place where there’s no extradition treaty.
It made front page in the Evening News for a night: Charity Boss faces Murder Rap – Child Sex Ring Exposed. There was never a peep about Miller’s involvement. Funny, that.
They haven’t caught up with Leanne. Not yet. I hope they don’t. It’s not as if she’s a threat to society – more the other way around.
Martin’s still in a mess. They’ve got him in a special hostel. He gets counselling and help to sort himself out. I went there once, to take him the letter from Janice. I warned his worker first, had her standing by. It was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. The sound he made, when he realised what I was saying, still churns me up thinking about it. I left Mrs Williams’ number with them. I don’t know if Martin ever got in touch. I like to think he will one day. He could do with some of that love.
I’ve gone off Harry. He’s still a good friend, but the little frissons of lust have dried up. Back in September, Bev took me on one side and told me she’d some news. Divorce, separation? I pictured Harry moving into the top flat.
‘The reason I’ve been so edgy,’ Bev was saying.
I’d become a stepmother. Harry’s boys could visit every weekend...
‘I’m pregnant. We’re having a baby,’ she beamed at me.
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