Burning Greed

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Burning Greed Page 9

by Diane M Dickson


  She didn’t pause but walked on and through into the toilets. It wasn’t bad, still reasonably clean, smelling of chemical air freshener. Bright lights were harsh and unforgiving on her pale face. She brushed her hair, used the lavatory and checked the picture that Stan Laird had sent. There was no doubt about who it was outside in the bar, so, in that case, where was Serena?

  Chapter 28

  She had to get back out there before he had a chance to leave. Tanya reached for the door handle as it swung inwards and the barmaid scuttled in. They smiled at each other and the girl went to the washbasins and leaned into the mirror. She began to tidy her eye makeup and fluff her long hair.

  Tanya moved across. “Excuse me, you work behind the bar, don’t you?”

  “Aye.”

  “Look, I was supposed to meet my niece here and she hasn’t shown up.” It was a fractured version of the truth, but as she clicked on the image that she had of Serena, the young woman leaned over to peer at the screen.

  “Oh aye, I ken that lassie. One of the posh girls, slumming it. It’s not my business but if she was my niece I’d tell her to find somewhere better than this to spend her time.”

  “Yes. I know what you mean. I haven’t been in here before. I was surprised that she liked it. You haven’t seen her tonight, have you?”

  The girl shook her head and turned back to the mirror. “No, not for a couple of weeks. You should meet her outside, take her off somewhere nice. That’s what I’d do.”

  “Yes. I think I will. Thanks so much.”

  “No bother, hen. See ya.” And with that she disappeared into the cubicle and closed the door.

  Tanya went back into the bar where Iain Laithwaite was drinking a second half of lager, his whisky lined up alongside. She turned and slipped through the swinging door out into the gloomy corridor.

  The bulky doorman looked up at her. “Your friends not turned up then?”

  She wondered if she should ask him about Serena, but he was streetwise, not as naïve as the barmaid, and he would suss her out in moments. She shook her head. “I’m going to meet them outside, we’re going somewhere else.”

  “Expensive visit for you then.” He grinned at her.

  “Oh, well worth it, honestly.” And with the cryptic comment she left him frowning after her as the door slammed shut behind her.

  Chapter 29

  Tanya crossed the road and found a recessed shop doorway from where she had a decent view of the club entrance. She knew that it could be a long wait so she zipped up her jacket and thrust her hands deep into the pockets. It wasn’t too cold, but it was September in Edinburgh after all. She felt the scratch of the sequins on the scarf that Fiona had loaned her, took it out and wrapped it around her neck.

  There weren’t many people around, and those that were, either wobbled along the road hanging on to drunken friends, or scuttled past towards last buses or the comfort of their hotel rooms.

  This is what she did; this is what being a copper was about. She had a bad guy to follow and she felt the misery of the last hour slide away.

  It would be sensible to let someone know, but whom? If she contacted Stan Laird, he would tell her to go home and leave it to them to sort it. But she was committed now and didn’t want to beg for a part in whatever was going to happen. If she called Charlie, he could do nothing to help her from the middle of England and would tell her to call for back up. Again, the most likely result would be having it taken out of her hands.

  It was the sensible thing, but this bloke had caused her no end of grief and she wanted him for herself. She also wanted her niece home as soon as possible; this whole mess over and done. Following him now was the right thing to do. It was gut feeling but she had relied on it before and been right. She would follow him, see where he was staying and then call for help to take him in and pick up Serena. It was fine.

  If he was in a car, that would make the decision for her. Fiona’s car was parked in the multi-storey in Castle Terrace. There was not a snowball’s chance in hell that he was parked there as well. Somewhere in the back of her mind there had been the vague hope that if she had found the couple at the club, she could bring Serena away with her and leave the rest of it to Stan Laird and his men. Stupid when she thought about it now – badly planned. This whole thing had been done to get a feel for the place, on the off chance that she could speak to someone who knew him or Serena, or maybe knew where he lived. That hadn’t worked – the barmaid had only confirmed what they already knew. She pushed the thoughts aside to concentrate on the job at hand. This result was more than she could have hoped for and at the rate he was drinking she didn’t think he could be driving, so it could still work out.

  He emerged, alone, after about a half an hour. That wasn’t too bad, she hadn’t become too cold, though it would be good to be moving. He glanced back and forth before turning right and heading towards the city centre. He swaggered along the middle of the pavement, glancing casually at shop windows, stepping around empty fast food cartons, and the occasional beer can. Tanya stayed on her own side of the road, keeping to the shadows, cursing the leather heels on her shoes for the noise they made. The streets were well lit, and it was easy to keep him in sight. Almost inevitably it had begun to rain: fine, soaking drizzle that brought with it a cold promise of winter. She turned up her collar and kept on.

  They walked for ten minutes or so, and then he slowed, glanced from side to side and turned to look behind him. He lifted his arm to look at his watch, and wiped rain from his face with the palm of his hand. He shook his head, pushing fingers through his hair. With a sideways step he entered the dark maw of an alleyway.

  Tanya drew into another doorway, this one the entrance to a small block of flats. She could see the shade of him, leaning against the wall, and then the flare of small flame and the red glow of a cigarette. She heard footsteps heading towards her and flattened against the damp wall of her hiding place. The newcomer paused a moment at the pavement edge before crossing towards the passage where Iain waited. She could tell only that it was probably a man. He was dressed in dark clothes, his shoulders hunched against the rain. He raised a hand towards the figure in the alley who did not respond, except to throw down the half-smoked cigarette. He ground the stub under his foot, coughed and spat onto the pavement before moving further into the darkness.

  There was no point trying to record this, it would need special equipment to get any sort of useable footage, and she was too far away. She slipped from the doorway and sidled into the next entrance from where she could see the two men more clearly. They shook hands, a strange courtesy under the circumstances, and there was a short conversation. Goods changed hands and the second man moved away, walking quickly. He soon disappeared around a corner. Laithwaite watched him go and then turned to the wall and urinated against the dirty stone. Subconsciously she screwed up her nose as, zipping his flies, he moved back into the street, turned to face the way that he had come and headed in the direction of the club.

  If he had simply been collecting more drugs and was now heading back to offload them, Tanya knew she could be in for a longer, colder, wetter wait. It had to be done though, and when she judged it safe she stepped out of the shadows.

  Chapter 30

  Iain Laithwaite turned before they reached the club, and headed towards Princes Street and along by the station. He was walking with purpose now, no longer distracted by the shops and closed cafes. Pulling up the collar on his coat he began to stride out more quickly. He gave all the appearance of a man going home. Tanya felt a rising sense of excitement.

  They were away from the stylish shops and hotels and onto a road of small newsagents, food shops, offices and stationery outlets. There were flats above many of the retail spaces and narrow passages between the buildings. It was an area of dark, damp corners and ill-lit road junctions. There was nobody about, except once or twice she saw a rough sleeper filling a doorway, the dark hump of a sleeping bag dampening in the drizzle. Tanya was
very aware that she was alone, and no-one knew where she was, or what she was doing. But she couldn’t give up because she was convinced he was leading her to Serena. Once she found where the girl was, then she would call for help and stand by while the local force cleaned up this mess.

  Water dripped into her eyes and she brushed it aside with a cold hand. Her trousers were soaked, and the rain ran down her leather coat and dripped against the back of her legs. It was dark and uncomfortable, and she was in her element, thrilled and focused.

  He slowed eventually beside a small shop. She was on the other side of the road and could see clearly as he unlocked the door and stepped into a dark hallway. Lights flicked on, shining through the skylight above the door and pooling on the wet pavement. The building had two upper floors. The top was in darkness, but in the right-hand room of the first floor, a light showed dimly through curtains hanging limply at an old sash window.

  It wasn’t long before she saw a shadow move across the thin fabric. It was him. She could tell by his size and the set of the narrow shoulders. He stood for a moment, silhouetted in the creamy glow, and then moved away into the room.

  Tanya crossed the narrow road. There were three bell pushes beside the front door. Although there were tiny windows for the insertion of a name card nobody had bothered, though in the bottom one someone had pushed in a piece of paper with ‘garden flat’ scrawled across in blue ink.

  She walked past the shop window and turned down the alley at the side. It was littered and running with water, several empty cat food tins clattered under her feet and she cursed as she slid them away with the side of her shoe. Where the old stone ended there was a wooden fence. She grabbed the top, and using her feet for purchase, pulled up high enough to peer over. Calling it a garden had been an exaggeration but there was a small space with a couple of flower pots and an old metal garden table. The ground floor was dark and silent.

  She walked further along the alley to the corner and then turned to follow the line of the fence to the gate. It had an old-fashioned handle with a thumb push to operate the latch. She wrapped her fingers around it and pressed down on the flat metal disk. Though the latch operated smoothly, when she pushed at the gate it refused to open. She pushed against it again. It was caught at the top and she stretched up on her toes, worming her fingers over the splintered wood and feeling for the bolt which she knew must be there. She felt the metal but could barely reach it with her fingertips. She turned away and crept back and forth in the alley searching for something to stand on. A dog barked in another yard and she stopped and waited until it quieted.

  Puddles of gritty, grimy water splashed up onto her legs and into her shoes. The rain was a full-on torrent by now and water was beginning to run down the gutter in the middle of the alley. Tanya’s hair hung in dripping rat’s tails around her face and she gathered it in one hand, twisted it and tucked it inside her jacket collar. It soaked her blouse through to the skin, and she shivered, shrugged her shoulders and carried on. She had walked away from the place where the dog had alarmed, pushing at a couple more gates as she went. They were all locked.

  What she ought to do now was to call for help. She had found the man they were looking for and he was, presumably, inside for the next few hours. She pulled out her mobile phone. There was no signal here between the tall houses because it was effectively a valley surrounded by stone walls. She would need to go back to the main road.

  There were lights at a junction beyond the passage so she walked straight on towards it. Near the bottom, beside a dilapidated gate, was a small pile of discarded rubbish. There were a couple of crates that were rotted and crumbling and of no use, but there was a plastic box without a lid. She flipped it over and climbed carefully onto the top, holding onto the fence for support and to spread some of her weight. It bulged inward, but she didn’t hear a crack of plastic. She eased her hand from the fence and slid her feet towards the edges, where the plastic might be stronger. She gave a little bounce and it didn’t break. She grinned and hissed out a quiet “Yes”.

  Back at the gate the extra height allowed her to reach the bolt. She expected a padlock, but when she grabbed the hasp it pulled upwards and slid smoothly down the groove in the lock.

  Once inside the garden she turned and relocked the gate. It was second nature to close off means of escape in case Laithwaite made a run for it. She checked her phone again wondering if it might have picked up a signal now she was out of the narrow alley. It hadn’t, so she moved down the garden to where the ground floor flat had a single-story extension with a glazed door, and a corrugated metal roof.

  Light shone from the rear window of the first floor flat, diffused by a net curtain. All thought of calling for help was forgotten now that she saw the chance to peer inside.

  She picked up the metal garden table and carried it with her. It was as easy as mounting a flight of stairs to clamber up and stand on the edge of the building. She tested the strength of the roof. When it held she moved slowly forward, heel and toe across the inner edge, supporting herself with a hand on the wall until she was able to grasp the ledge. Two more steps were all it took, and she was beneath the window. She could hear the voices of the people inside. One was harsh and impatient she judged it to be Laithwaite, and another, quieter. There was the slam of a door, then silence.

  Chapter 31

  Tanya steadied herself on the slick metal of the roof. Clinging to the spalling window ledge, she pulled herself up to squint through gaps in the lace curtain.

  There was a single ceiling light covered with an old-fashioned shade illuminating the small room. The corners were shadowed and dim. On the sofa, in front of a two-bar electric fire, she could see the hunched shape of Serena. The girl was resting her chin on her hands and staring at the dull, grey carpet. She raised a finger and brushed at her eyes. Tanya was swept with a flood of pity. The girl was young and naïve and yes, stupid, but she looked so forlorn sitting in the nasty little room dressed in her designer hoody and her expensive trainers. Her long, auburn hair was lank and greasy and tied back in a loose ponytail. She didn’t appear to be hurt, but some damage wouldn’t be so easily visible; the truth remained to be seen.

  Tanya tapped lightly on the glass and scratched a fingernail down the pane. There was no response and so she knocked a little louder. She had to do this without bringing Iain Laithwaite back from wherever he was.

  Still Serena hadn’t heard her, she rapped with the ring that she wore on her right hand and the girl looked up. Tanya knocked again. Serena leaned forward to peer towards the window. She glanced backwards at the door and then in one rapid movement, stood from the couch and dashed across the room.

  Tanya waved upwards with her hand, but Serena didn’t need instruction. She was already pulling at the sash window, tugging at the awkward little handles – her face twisted with effort.

  They managed to force it open millimetre by millimetre. As soon as there was space, Tanya wormed her way through to land in a heap on the floor. Serena bent and helped her to stand, panic rounding her eyes as she grabbed at Tanya’s shoulders.

  “Quick, quick, if he comes in, he’ll be furious! Take me home.”

  “Are you hurt?”

  Although Serena shook her head, the tears that flooded her eyes told a different story, and Tanya gathered her close and held her for a moment and let her cry. “It’s all right, it’s okay. I’m taking you home and you’ll be fine.”

  “I thought he was lovely, Aunty Tan. I’m such an idiot.” Her niece had reverted to the childhood name and Tanya felt sad there had been so very few times she had heard it, and not at all for a long time now.

  “I know, I know. We’ll talk about it all later. Let’s just get you home. Your mum and dad are frantic.”

  Serena wiped at her nose and her eyes with the sleeve of the hoody.

  “I bet Mum’s been mad though, hasn’t she? I bet she’s furious with me, she’ll hate me now, and Daddy...”

  The tears came heavie
r now. “I thought I knew why we were going to Holland. I thought we were going to get some weed, some pills, but it wasn’t that.” She was unable to continue, and Tanya saw the haunted, damaged look crawl into her eyes. It would never really leave, not completely, no matter how much therapy her sister’s money bought, and how strong this girl turned out to be. Now was not the time to open the floodgates, but Serena was still talking.

  “I don’t remember all that happened, there were pills and there were men and…” The next sentence was too difficult, she let it go. She paused, shook her head before continuing.

  “He wasn’t going to bring me back. He was sneaking away. I was pretending to be out of it, so they’d leave me alone, but I saw him, I ran after him. He was going to leave me there with no money, nothing, leave me with those men. We were out in the street and I was crying, screaming really; people were looking, it was horrible.”

  “I know, love, I know. But tell me later. You can tell us everything later.”

  Still the girl was babbling, tears rolling unchecked down her cheeks and she was sniffing and gulping. Tanya tried again to shepherd her towards the window.

  “He made me come here. He said if I ran away he’d find me, said he knew where I lived, where I went to college, and he does. I can’t get away from him. He said I was the biggest mistake he’d ever made. I’ve been such an idiot and I’ve been so scared.”

  Tanya didn’t think the girl had any idea how lucky she was to be still alive. They would get the full story eventually, but how she had not been killed and thrown into a Dutch canal it was difficult to understand. Maybe it had been just a step too far for Laithwaite. She tried again to move them both towards the window.

 

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