by Roberta Kray
‘Adam?’
‘Adam Vasser, Lena’s son.’
And now it was Maddie’s turn to be surprised. There was that name again – Vasser. She took a moment to let it sink in, wondering what it meant, if anything. ‘So she was friendly with this Adam?’
Shauna barked out a laugh. ‘I wouldn’t say that exactly. She couldn’t stand the guy, thought he was a creep. Well, he is a creep, and nasty with it. Twisted, if you know what I mean.’
‘So why did she —’
Shauna interrupted before she got the chance to finish. ‘The same reason Greta did anything – because there was something in it for her.’ She’d spoken in haste, without thinking, and now she quickly flapped a hand. ‘Oh, sorry, I didn’t mean… I liked Greta, honestly I did. She was a laugh. I suppose she just wanted to keep the guy sweet. Bo did some work for him, and it was good money, so…’
‘I thought Bo worked for the Streets?’
‘Yeah, he did. He was on the door at Belles and the Lincoln. But I reckon he only did that as a cover for what he was really up to.’
‘Which was?’
Shauna screwed up her face again. She put her elbow on the table and her hand over her mouth as if she’d already said too much.
‘Shauna, he’s dead. What difference does it make if you tell me or not?’
There was a brief silence before Shauna removed her hand. ‘Why are you asking about all this stuff? What’s going on? I don’t get it. It’s been years.’
‘Six,’ Maddie said. ‘And no one’s any closer to finding out what happened. So please, if you do know anything…’
‘I don’t. I swear. Not about that.’
‘But you do know what Bo was doing?’
Shauna worried on her lower lip for a few seconds, still in two minds as to whether she should tell. ‘Okay, but this didn’t come from me, right? Because if it gets back to —’
‘It won’t. I promise.’
Shauna hesitated again, clearly weighing up her fear of the Gissings against her friendship with Maddie. Eventually, she came to a decision. ‘He was nicking motors, okay. Luxury numbers, high end. He and Greta used to drive out to Surrey, Sussex, them sorts of places and check out the smart houses.’
Maddie, astonished, took a quick, sharp breath. ‘What, Greta went with him?’
‘Course. Had to, didn’t she? Bo needed a way of getting his own motor home after he’d nicked someone else’s. You’d be surprised how many people just leave them on the drive. And Bo could get into any car in twenty seconds flat.’
Although Maddie had known that her sister was no angel, she hadn’t expected this. But she didn’t have time to dwell on the revelation now. ‘And they were working for Adam Vasser?’
Shauna gave a nod. ‘But like I said, that man’s fuckin’ evil. You don’t want to get on the wrong side of him or…’
‘Or?’ Maddie prompted.
Shauna looked away.
Maddie stared at her. ‘Or you might end up in the Thames with a bullet in your head?’
‘I didn’t say that. No, Adam liked Bo. He was always round their place. He wouldn’t have… No, I’m sure he wouldn’t. Why would he?’
‘Maybe they fell out, had a row over money. Do the police know that Bo was working for Vasser?’
Shauna gave another of her shrugs. ‘Dunno.’
And then Maddie had another thought. The Streets wouldn’t have been too happy if they’d found out that one of their firm was working with the Gissings. Weren’t they old enemies? Although Adam Vasser wasn’t strictly a Gissing, he was Lena’s son, which made him pretty much a member of the family.
‘What are you going to do?’ Shauna asked. She sounded jumpy and anxious, as if Maddie was about to drag her into the kind of trouble she really didn’t need.
‘I don’t know. Keep digging, I suppose.’ Maddie was still pondering on the Streets. But they wouldn’t have killed Bo, would they? Bo was Solomon’s brother, and Solomon was close to Chris. But how much did friendship count for when it came to betrayal? ‘Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone what you told me.’
‘You can’t,’ said Shauna.
‘I won’t. Look, do you know anything about Lena Gissing?’
‘No,’ said Shauna tightly. ‘Only that she’s not the sort of woman you mess with.’
Maddie had already gathered that much. ‘You never saw her with Greta?’
‘No, never.’
‘And Greta never talked about her?’
‘No,’ Shauna repeated. She rose to her feet, effectively ending the conversation. ‘Kyle,’ she called out. ‘Turn that TV off. It’s time for tea.’
Maddie, taking the hint, stood up too and went through into the living room. ‘Come on, Zac. You ready?’
Shauna saw them to the door, hustling them out before she had to answer any more awkward questions. ‘Bye, then. See you tomorrow.’
‘Bye.’
As they walked along the road, Zac gave Maddie a rundown of his day along with a summary of SpongeBob’s latest exploits. She only listened with half an ear. Most of her mind was focused on what she’d just learned, turning it over in her head and trying to figure out what it all meant. She was pretty sure that Shauna hadn’t told her everything, but it was enough to bolster her suspicions about Lena Gissing being involved in Greta’s death.
Maddie was also trying to come to terms with what her sister had been involved in. Up until now she’d put all the blame squarely on Bo, but Greta had clearly played a part in his criminal activities. And then there was Adam Vasser to consider. Perhaps it was Lena’s crazy son who’d committed the murders.
Zac ran in front of her, did a few dipping circles with his arms out like an aeroplane and then rushed back. ‘Maddie, Maddie, what do you call a snail on a ship?’
‘I don’t know, hon. What do you call it?’
‘A snailer!’ Zac roared at his own joke, jumping up and down. ‘A snailer – do you get it?’
Maddie smiled at him. ‘That’s the worst one all week.’
‘It’s the best. It is. It’s the best one of all.’ Zac ran on ahead again, still laughing. He turned into the gateway of number 34 and rushed up the path. A few seconds later, he was back with a small parcel held up above his head. ‘Look, you’ve got a present. Someone’s sent you a present.’
Maddie took the parcel from him and looked at it. It was about six inches wide, a box wrapped in brown paper with her name and address scrawled on the front. There were no stamps or any postmark, so it must have been delivered by a courier. She flipped it over, but there wasn’t a return address on the back.
‘What is it?’ Zac asked.
‘I don’t know, hon. I won’t know until I open it.’ She got out her keys, walked up the path and unlocked the door. Inside, she went through to the kitchen. After putting the parcel on the counter and switching on the kettle, she took a bottle of aspirin out of the top cupboard and swallowed two capsules with a glass of water. Then she went to the fridge to see what delights she could conjure up for dinner.
‘We’ll have chicken, shall we? Be a love and get me some spuds from the garden.’
But Zac remained standing by the counter, gazing curiously at the package. ‘Aren’t you going to open it?’
‘I’m sure it’s nothing very interesting.’
‘It might be.’
‘Okay, let’s take a look.’ Maddie ripped the brown paper off to reveal a small cardboard box. She picked at the sellotape until she could free the flap and flip it open. And then… It took a second for her brain to absorb what she was seeing. The breath caught in the back of her throat as she stifled a cry. For a moment she froze, her eyes widening with horror, the blood draining from her face. And then, before Zac could see the contents properly, she slammed the lid shut again.
‘What is it?’ he asked, leaning forward. ‘Is it a toy?’
‘N-no,’ she managed to stammer. ‘It’s not… it’s not for us.’ She shoved the box along the counter,
away from his curious hands. ‘It’s a mistake. It’s come to the wrong address. Now, why don’t you get those spuds for me?’
Zac gave her a curious look, his gaze flitting between her and the box. He pointed towards the ripped brown paper. ‘But it’s got your name on it.’
‘I know, but… but someone’s got it wrong.’ Quickly she turned away from him and went over to the sink. Her stomach was heaving. She thought she was going to be sick. She thought she was going to pass out. Her hands gripped the cool metal while she tried to steady herself. Then, aware that Zac was watching her, she glanced over her shoulder. ‘Go on,’ she said, her voice sounding odd and croaky. ‘Hurry up! Get those spuds or we won’t be eating till midnight.’
Reluctantly, Zac moved away from the counter and went out of the back door. She watched from the window, waiting until he’d picked up a trowel from the garden box and started digging in the soil. Only then did she release her grip, walk back across the room and stare at the box. Her chest felt tight. Her heart was racing. Slowly, very slowly she lifted the lid again. A thin groan escaped from her lips and her stomach gave another lurch. A tiny sparrow, its dead body pierced by a nail, was impaled on a piece of gold card. And written on the card were the words RIP, Maddie Layne.
24
Maddie, unable to bear the sight of the poor dead creature, quickly shut the lid again. Her hands were shaking as she placed the box on the highest shelf in the cupboard, out of Zac’s line of vision and out of his reach. But out of sight wasn’t out of mind and she had to decide what to do next. Call the cops – wasn’t that the right thing to do? This was a threat, a blatant threat, and she didn’t have much doubt where it had come from. Lena Gissing had made her feelings crystal clear when they’d clashed earlier in the day.
Maddie pulled her phone out of her rucksack and began to dial. But no sooner had she started than she had second thoughts. What would she tell Zac when the police came round? How would she explain? She didn’t want him scared, but he was bound to be. No, maybe it would be better if she went down to Cowan Road. But then she’d need to get someone to sit with Zac. Not Shauna – she reckoned she’d exhausted any outstanding goodwill there – which meant that it would have to be Alisha.
Maddie put the phone down while she thought about it some more. If she asked Alisha, then she’d either have to tell her the truth or make up a damn good excuse as to why she had to leave the house for an hour. Neither of these prospects was especially appealing; she didn’t want to lie, and she didn’t want to stress her out either. There was no nice way, no good way, to explain the horror of a threat like this. Maybe it was better to wait until morning, when she could go to the police station after taking the boys to summer school.
Suddenly, Maddie was hit by a wave of panic. She dashed to the front door, opened it, ran down the path and stared up and down the street. But whoever had left the parcel was long gone. Of course they were. It could have been dumped on the doorstep hours ago. She tried to remember if they’d passed anyone when they were walking back from Shauna’s, but she’d been too distracted to be paying much attention.
Quickly she ran back inside, locked the door and pulled across the bolts. She leaned against it for a while, her heart pumping. Maybe she should call Solomon, but he’d be at work, and anyway, what could he do? What could anyone do? Her hands clenched into two tight fists. This was all Cato’s fault. Damn him! He’d dragged her into his war with Lena Gissing and placed her directly in the line of fire. While he was sitting safely in his cell, she was the one taking all the flak.
When her breathing had slowed, Maddie pushed herself off the door and walked through to the back. Try and act normally, she told herself. For Zac’s sake, she had to pretend that nothing untoward had happened. None too easy, she thought, when there was a dead sparrow lying in a box in the kitchen cupboard. Not to mention that chilling message: RIP, Maddie Layne.
For the next couple of hours, she went through the motions, making dinner, chatting, doing the dishes, watching TV – all the time trying to keep the strain out of her voice and off her face. It felt like for ever before Zac was showered and in his pyjamas and finally in bed. Only then, when she was alone, did she fully give in to the fear she was feeling.
Curled up on the sofa, Maddie clutched a cushion to her chest. Now that it was dark outside, she was beginning to wish that she had called the cops. She had checked three times that all the doors and windows were locked, but she still didn’t feel safe. What if someone tried to break in? Her hand reached for the phone and she stared down at the keypad. It was all very well trying to protect Zac, but what if she was putting him in even more danger by doing nothing? But still she hesitated, remembering what Lena had said about having contacts at Cowan Road.
She turned the phone around in her hand. Still no call from Cato. Maybe she’d never hear from him again. Maybe, so far as he was concerned, her usefulness was over. She’d done the job he’d paid her for and that was that. He probably didn’t give a damn about the fallout.
Maddie went back to watching the TV. Although she was looking at the screen, she wasn’t taking anything in. Scenes changed, characters came and went, but her mind was somewhere else. She thought of Lena Gissing’s face as she’d raised her arm to hurl the ring across the graveyard. Pure rage. And that was something else that had been down to Cato. He must have arranged for the ring to be left there, knowing she would find it. What he couldn’t have known, however, was that Lena would come along just as she was about to bury it again.
She still couldn’t figure out the triangle. Lena Gissing, Jay Cato and Lucy Rivers. What connected the three of them? What was it that fuelled such bitter and angry emotions? Was it Brendan Vasser? She understood the Lena–Cato conflict, but the rest remained a mystery to her. And now the death of her sister had become entwined in it all. She looked down at her phone again. If only Cato would call. She had to find out what he knew.
It was another half-hour before her mobile finally sprang into life. She snatched it up, checking out the caller. Number unavailable. Could that be a prison payphone? She had no idea of the times that inmates were allowed to use them.
‘Hello?’
She waited, but there was only a thin crackling at the other end of the line.
‘Hello?’ she said again.
Still nothing. Maddie waited a few seconds and then hung up. Had that been Cato trying to get through? If so, then hopefully he would keep on trying. She kept the phone in her hand, willing it to ring again.
It was another five long minutes before she got her wish. ‘Hello?’ she repeated for the third time. But again she was greeted with silence. Except it wasn’t quite silence. It took a moment for her to realise that someone was actually there. That sound… breathing… deliberate heavy breathing.
‘Who is it?’ she asked sharply, a thin shiver of fear running through her. When there was no reply, she jabbed at the button to end the call. But still the sound echoed in her ears, soft and cruel and malicious. Someone trying to scare her to death. And it was working. First the sparrow and now this.
Two minutes later, the phone began to ring again. The same unavailable number. Well, she just wouldn’t answer it. Let them breathe into her voicemail if they wanted to. But then she wondered if this time it might actually be Cato. Could she take the chance of missing him? It could be ages before he tried again.
Reluctantly she answered the call. ‘Yes?’
But of course it wasn’t Cato. Just that dark, threatening breathing again. In and out, in and out. Steady, monotonous, nasty. She hung up and threw the phone away from her, towards the far corner of the sofa. Wrapping her arms around her chest, she rocked back and forth. ‘Leave me alone,’ she muttered.
And then, as if to defy her, the phone began its menacing ringing again. She put her hands over her ears. No, she’d had enough. She couldn’t take any more. But the phone kept on ringing until something snapped inside her. Leaning forward, she grabbed it and in an explosion of
anger yelled down the line, ‘Listen, I don’t know what your bloody game is, but I’ve had enough. It stops, right? It stops right now.’
This time she heard a different sound, an intake of breath that was more surprised than intimidating. And then a voice that she recognised. ‘Maddie? Is that you? Are you okay?’
It was Rick Mallory. She had snatched up the phone in such a hurry that this time she hadn’t even checked who the caller was. She was instantly hit by a mixture of relief and embarrassment. ‘Oh God, sorry, I didn’t realise…’
‘What’s going on?’
‘Sorry, I’ve been… been getting crank calls. The whole heavy-breathing bit. I thought you were… And it’s not just that. There’s been other stuff too.’ She could hear her voice starting to break and quickly tried to pull herself together. ‘I thought…’
‘You want me to come round?’
Maddie hesitated. She swallowed hard, still trying to get some control of her voice. ‘I don’t know.’
‘I’ll be there in five minutes,’ he said firmly.
She didn’t argue with him. ‘Okay, thanks. But don’t ring the bell or it’ll wake up Zac. I’ll watch out for you.’
‘Five minutes,’ he said again. ‘Don’t worry.’
Maddie immediately turned off the phone. If she missed Cato’s call, she missed it. She’d rather that than have to listen to the breathing again. She went out into the hall, climbed the stairs and looked in on Zac. He was fast asleep, his eyelids flickering, his right arm flung across the duvet. Carefully she closed the door and went into her own bedroom. It was at the front and overlooked the street. From here, she’d be able to see Rick when he arrived.
As she stared anxiously along Morton Grove, she wondered if her sick caller was out there somewhere. Her eyes raked the parked cars, searching for one that might be occupied, but in the thin orangey light from the street lamps she could only see shadows. She lifted a hand to her mouth and chewed on a fingernail. Had she done the right thing in asking Rick to come? Well, she hadn’t actually asked, he’d volunteered, but she’d said yes and so it amounted to pretty much the same thing. It wasn’t in her nature to go running to a man for help – she dealt with most things on her own – but this, she decided, wasn’t most things. Anyway, that was just her pride talking. Sometimes the wise thing, the smart thing to do was gratefully to accept the help that was offered.
