He threw his hands up in despair as Kayla burst into a fresh crop of tears.
‘Shut up!’ Steve warned. ‘Or I’ll have no choice but to stuff a tranquilliser down your throat!’
‘Right. That’s better.’ He nodded, satisfied as Kayla obliged. ‘Now, stay put.’
Cautiously, he tiptoed the length of the boat, mounted the first step, and a sharp rap on the glass had him cracking his shin on the third.
‘Christ Al-bloody-mighty! Stop your snivelling, will you!?’ he snapped at Kayla behind him, who’d started up again, then turned back to the door to call, ‘Who is it?’
‘Who is it?’ Charlie answered, agitated. ‘Little Red Riding Hood. Who do you think it is?’
‘Oh, right.’ Steve fumbled the keys from his pocket and fiddled with the padlock. ‘Just a minute.’
‘Just a minute!’ Charlie repeated despairingly. ‘Bloody big girl’s blouse,’ he muttered. ‘Hurry it up, Steve, for Christ’s sake.’
At last Steve wrestled the doors open, and shone the torch—straight in Charlie’s face.
‘Turn it off, you great fat pillock,’ Charlie snapped, grabbing Daniel’s shirt to force him ahead of him. ‘Do you want the Neighbourhood Watch onto us, or what?’
‘Sorry,’ Steve mumbled, parking the torch on a shelf.
‘Sorry!?’ The bloke was a bloody liability, that’s what. ‘Use your brains, Steve, there’s a good bloke.’ Charlie decided to use his own and cool his temper. Didn’t want to rub Steve too much up the wrong way. There was an awful lot of him to rub up. ‘Fetch that lot in will you, mate?’ he asked chummily, nodding behind him towards the provisions on deck.
Steve scratched his head, looking past Charlie, confused. ‘Er, you do know what you’re doing, don’t you, Charlie?’
‘Yes, Steve.’ Charlie sighed, motioning Daniel inside ahead of him. ‘I do know what I’m doing. Do you?’ He shot Steve a look that, hopefully, told him he’d bloody well better.
‘Taken a bit of a beating, hasn’t he?’ Steve observed, his brow furrowed, as Daniel came down the steps.
‘A bloody good beating, from the looks,’ Steve glanced up at Charlie, looking none too impressed as Daniel squeezed past. ‘Cut on the head doesn’t look too clever, does it? Need stitches, that will.’
Charlie gave Steve a warning glance as he followed Daniel down. ‘Wipe the pious look off your face, mate, and don’t question my judgment, hey? He’s been out of order, so I sorted him out.’
Steve didn’t look any more impressed. He shrugged and turned sideways to allow Charlie access.
Charlie stopped and faced him. ‘He’s a child killer, Steve, me old mate. Save your sympathy for someone more deserving, why don’t you?’
Steve turned away and bustled on up the steps. ‘What? Like her, you mean?’ he asked, trailing his eyes over the distinct bruise on Jo’s face. He nodded her down into the boat, picked up an armful of provisions, and followed her.
‘Belting the bloke’s wife was well out of order, mate,’ he muttered, openly disgusted, as he passed back by Charlie. ‘And you know it. No bloody need.’
****
Daniel braced himself and headed towards the back of the boat, his mouth dry, sweat beading his brow, and sick to his soul. Kayla was there, hidden somewhere. He could hear her, crying softly.
‘Did I tell you to move?’ Charlie called behind him.
Daniel stopped and raked his hand through his hair. He was tempted to carry on, but where would that get him? A step closer to his daughter, and unconscious if that lunatic decided to swing the gun from behind, which he would, no hesitation.
Daniel squared his shoulders and waited as Charlie squeezed past him, the small space available dictating body contact.
He took his time. Blew Daniel a kiss, then gave him a suggestive wink, his mouth twisting into a sneer and his eyes mocking, barely six inches from Daniel’s.
Daniel had never felt the inclination to headbutt anyone. That was more Charlie’s territory. But right then, it took all of his willpower not to.
Charlie laughed, then swaggered towards the bow end of the boat, whistling a merry tune, the gun propped on his shoulder.
Sometime, Daniel thought, sometime soon, Charlie boy was going to beg for mercy. And Daniel would take great pleasure in showing him none. He looked away, disgust broiling in his stomach, as Charlie looked back at him with another lewd wink.
Charlie laughed again, shook his head, and then bent to peer into the berth. ‘Out,’ he ordered.
Kayla didn’t budge.
‘Come on, you stubborn bitch, move it,’ Charlie fumed. He reached for her arm, but Kayla recoiled as far back into the corner as she could.
‘No,’ Kayla said, sounding so small and scared that another part of Daniel died inside.
‘You, sweetheart,’ Charlie muttered, as Daniel bunched his fist at his side, ‘are gettin’ seriously on my nerves.’
He propped the gun against the berth, grabbed Kayla with both hands and dragged her bodily into the well of the boat.
‘Kayla!’ Jo screamed, behind Daniel. ‘What have you done to her!?’
Daniel reeled on his feet. He looked at his daughter. His daughter, her body barely covered, and her eyes those of a terrified child. Her face bruised. Her arms covered in red finger welts.
Jesus Christ … Daniel prayed hard for God to give him strength. ‘You fucking animal.’ He gritted his teeth, swallowed hard, and stepped instinctively forwards.
‘Stay,’ Charlie commanded, quickly retrieving his gun and pulling Kayla roughly back against him.
Daniel looked heavenwards. ‘Bastard.’ A guttural moan escaped his throat. He slammed his fist against the side of the boat.
‘Temper, temper.’ Charlie tsked. ‘Don’t want to go upsetting your daughter all over again, do you, Danny Boy? Done enough damage already, haven’t you?’
Charlie eyed Daniel steadily. ‘Still, she’s feeling much better now she’s got it all off her chest and confided in Charlie. Aren’t you, sweetheart?’
He wrapped his arm proprietarily around Kayla’s waist, then inched it higher, all the time watching Daniel, who looked at his daughter, who looked back at him. Daniel could see open terror in her eyes and do nothing about it.
‘Said she’d been a bit of a pain lately,’ Charlie went on, obviously enjoying himself. He nuzzled his face close to Kayla’s. ‘Said she’d been a bad girl, didn’t you, babe? Needing punishing, she told me.’ Charlie paused, his gloating eyes still on Daniel’s. ‘So I obliged, didn’t I? Well, what’s a bloke supposed to do, hey?’ Charlie shrugged nonchalantly.
Daniel stared at him, pure anger pumping through his veins. He wasn’t going to stop. He was going to go on and on. The evil son-of-a-bitch wanted more than money, he was beginning to realise, with sickening certainty.
‘You’re looking at me, Daniel,’ Charlie reminded him.
Fury mounted in Daniel’s chest. For one second he faltered, before caution of what kind of show that animal would put on for Kayla’s benefit forced him to look down. ‘Just let her go,’ he said tightly, ‘okay?’
‘You forgot the magic word.’ Charlie smiled patiently.
‘Please.’ Daniel almost spat it out.
‘For God’s sake!’ Jo screamed, trying to push past Daniel. ‘Let her go! You sick—’
‘Jo!’ Daniel seized her shoulders. ‘Don’t!’
He locked his gaze hard on hers. ‘Don’t, Jo,’ he repeated gently, watched as the fire in Jo’s eyes gave way to comprehension, and then pulled her into in his arms.
‘That’s better, Daniel,’ Charlie said approvingly. ‘You should have asserted a bit of authority before now, shouldn’t you, Danny Boy, then maybe you wouldn’t be in this mess. Now, if I were you, sweetheart,’ he addressed Jo, malice in his eyes, ‘I’d step back.’
Charlie waited for Jo to do as bid, then manoeuvred his hand under Kayla’s chin, forcing her head back. ‘She didn’t want me to let her go earlier, did you
, darlin’? Got me in a real leg lock. Gaggin’ for it, she was.’
No, no more, Daniel’s gut churned. He couldn’t do this. Couldn’t! His heart was hammering so fast it was choking him. That piece of filth had his slimy hands on his daughter, and he was supposed to stand here, doing nothing?
No. No way! Rage exploded inside him. He lunged at Charlie. Wanted to smash the bastard’s teeth to the back of his throat. Hurt him so much he’d plead for his miserable life to be over.
‘Whoa.’ Charlie stepped neatly back, shoving Kayla at him. ‘Let’s not be hasty, shall we?’ he said, raising the gun. ‘Don’t want this little baby shooting its load, do we?’
‘You,’ Daniel grated, ‘are a fucking dead man.’
‘Yeah, right.’ Charlie’s mouth twisted into a smirk. ‘Got some front, haven’t you Danny Boy? So how precisely are you going to carry out that bold little threat, hey? With killer looks? No, you’re the dead man, sunshine,’ he sneered, ‘if you don’t shut your mouth.’
Daniel eased Kayla carefully behind him, delivering her safely into Jo’s arms, before turning back, to another well-aimed jab to the chest.
‘You don’t learn real fast, do you?’ Charlie eyeballed him angrily. ‘Now, I won’t tell you again, you do exactly as I say. Nothing more, nothing less, or they suffer.’
‘Well?’ He waited while Daniel counted down five before dropping his gaze.
‘Good.’ Charlie nodded, when Daniel did look away, finally. ‘Now, let’s have no more heroics, and no more backchat.’ He jabbed him again to drive his point home. ‘Got it?’
Steve, who’d been watching from the deck, lumbered down the steps. ‘Leave it out, Charlie,’ he said, glancing apologetically at Jo, who sat cradling Kayla to her breast.
He shook his head and walked past Daniel, looking at him as if he felt sorry for him, as well, Charlie couldn’t quite believe.
‘Whose side are you on?’ Charlie muttered, following Steve, who dumped the food in the kitchen area.
‘Mine,’ Steve said coolly. ‘You got the gun. You got them where you want them. Now, leave it out.’
Charlie balked. ‘Yerwhat?’
Steve turned to him. ‘You want the truth,’ he said in a hoarse whisper, ‘I ain’t convinced the bloke wouldn’t risk a bullet to wrap that gun around your neck, Charlie, me old flower. So pack up!’ Steve met Charlie’s disbelieving gaze with an angry one of his own. ‘The man’s had enough. And so have I.’
Charlie was dumbfounded. It wasn’t so much what Steve said, as how. His tone was downright disrespectful. And, to add insult to injury, Danny Boy didn’t appear to be jumping quite as fast as he ought to. He wasn’t doing anything, as such. Wasn’t even looking at Charlie in any particular way, but the fact was, Daniel was looking. And Charlie just didn’t like it, because the plain and simple truth was, he couldn’t read the look. And that was very unsettling.
‘You, er,’ Charlie narrowed his eyes at Steve, ‘wouldn’t be telling me what to do, Steve, would you?’
‘Wouldn’t dream of it, mate.’ Steve shrugged huge round shoulders. ‘About time you had a fix though, ain’t it, Charlie?’ He met his gaze. ‘Mellow out a bit, if you don’t mind me suggesting.’
Chapter Fourteen
The night had been a long one. DI Short drummed impatient fingers on his steering wheel, spat the Nicorette out of his mouth, and reached for an indigestion pill. He’d woken up the world and its wife, as well as the neighbourhood dogs, and come up with a big fat nothing. Charlie had disappeared, been beamed up by the Starship Enterprise. It was as if he’d never existed.
More’s the pity, he did exist. So where was he?
DI Short had pursued every avenue he could think of. Contacted nicks—local and not so local. He’d lifted every stone, and still the insect hadn’t crawled out. Dead-eyed-Charlie had gone to ground somewhere, with a shotgun.
DI Short slumped in his seat. Then pulled himself up. He would find Charlie. He was more than duty-bound. He was morally-bound to find out where the bastard was. He was also knackered and his stomach was grumbling loudly. Such were the joys of the job. He sighed and started the engine, obliged to follow his instincts, being a detective, and all.
It was a long shot, but he was running out of ideas and, more importantly, time. Whoever Charlie Roberts was intimidating with that gun was on a fast road to being dead. DI Short had a feeling in his water.
The girl from the nightclub was their only other lead. She’d been fifteen or sixteen, Mary had guessed, which would mean she was still at school, which was where DI Short was headed, on a tour of the local schools. Information was being gathered and statements taken from the nightclub, but he still had no idea whether the girl the irate father was searching for and the girl Charlie had been with were one and the same. There had been no girls of that age reported missing. Chances are Charlie was just passing time while pushing drugs and the girl had gone on home. DI Short hoped so.
Hoped she was nursing a bloody great fat hangover and nothing worse.
Only one way to find out and that was to check out the absentee lists and have a good sniff around while he was at it. After a quick stop off at the station for a call of nature, some mouth-watering cold pizza—he eyed the flat-box on the passenger seat unenthusiastically—and a cup of delicious polystyrene-flavoured coffee.
****
Hannah sloped dejectedly to the bus stop, her hair draped over her face—and worried sick.
She’d gotten off lightly, if she could call a rollicking from her mum getting off lightly. And if she overlooked the fact that Steve had been vile to her. But Kayla … She’d been in a terrible state when they’d all but forced Hannah from the car, then idled the engine to watch her as far as her gate, Steve’s forehead creased with a scowl and Charlie smirking, like the idiot he was.
Hannah had watched as they’d driven off. In the direction of Kayla’s house at least, she’d noted, relieved. Praying the noise hadn’t woken her mum, Hannah had waited around until the car disappeared over the hill, and then short-circuited them via the canal towpath.
She’d crouched just off the road, behind the crumbling brickwork of the humpback bridge, poised to ring the police and sod the consequences if they hadn’t brought Kayla home. Thank God, they had—though the car had initially stopped on the road short of the entrance to the boatyard, Charlie and Steve heavily into animated conversation in the front seat. What was so important they couldn’t discuss it after they’d dropped Kayla off, Hannah couldn’t fathom.
But then, if that cokehead Charlie had anything to do with it, she’d thought panicky, it’d be where they were going to drop her off after he did whatever he was going to do with her.
Hannah wasn’t about to let that happen. She’d jabbed at her mobile, part-dialling the 999, when they’d started the engine again, forcing her to duck back out of sight. They’d trawled slowly past where she was, Charlie tossing a spliff-end out of the driver’s side as they did, then turned through the gates to drive through the boatyard towards the house.
Almost crying with relief, Hannah had shot to her feet and headed back down the towpath, worried they’d catch sight of her on their way back.
She’d tried to ring Kayla, once her mum had finished banging on at her and slagging Kayla off for allowing Hannah to walk home on her own. A thousand times she’d tried to ring, but the landline was unavailable, according to the operator. She’d tried Kayla’s mobile and assumed she must have switched off, before crawling under the duvet to try and get some sleep. Now, having tried to get hold of her another thousand times, she didn’t know what to think.
Hannah rounded the corner, hoping to see Kayla at the bus stop. She wasn’t there. Hannah’s heart flopped. She dragged her feet, missed the bus and didn’t give a stuff. It was double games anyway, like running around with goose-pimpled thighs was supposed to be fun.
She hadn’t really expected Kayla to turn up for school. Kayla had looked like death warmed up when she’d last see
n her, but Hannah was desperate to know she was okay. Kayla was her best friend. She’d been there for Hannah when her parents split. And Hannah had been there for Kayla when she’d sobbed her heart out in the school loos about her sister.
Hannah had thought about calling by the boatyard on the way to school.
Almost had, but guessed her presence would be about as welcome as the plague after the state Kayla was in. She’d give the house another ring, and then she’d have to call around on the way back from school, she supposed.
Still no answer. Sighing, Hannah pulled her mobile from her ear. This was too weird. She helped herself to one of Kayla’s Marlboro Lights, puffed on it inexpertly and had a good think. Okay, she reasoned, Kayla turns up “inebriated” to the point of passing out. And upset, once she came round. She’d obviously be that. Then there might be a row, and Kayla would be even more upset. Then Kayla’s mum would be upset, and then she’d feel guilty, as parents do. Kayla’s mum more so, given what they’d all gone through.
Maybe she’d decided to take Kayla away for a few days. Do the quality time thing with her daughter.
So far, so good. Hannah had another puff. So how come Kayla’s dad had been hanging around outside Strobes? They must both be well-worried about Kayla, Hannah supposed. She had been acting a bit weird lately, after all. Sort of thing he’d do, Kayla’s dad, even if he did go a bit mental. Nice, Daniel Conner was, even if Kayla didn’t rate him.
Yep, that all figured. Hannah spotted the next bus trundling around the corner and stubbed out her cigarette. They might have all gone away together, having a crack at reconciliation, maybe. That’d be cool.
Yeah, and maybe that cokehead Charlie would do the world a favour and drive himself over the edge of a cliff. In other words, not likely, given Kayla reckoned her mum and dad were tearing each other apart.
Hannah flashed her pass at the driver and clumped up to the top deck. Try as she might, she just couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t right.
****
Kayla shrank away from Daniel, then Jo in turn, and shot for the door at the back of the boat. Jo flew after her, tried to pull her close, but Kayla squirmed and wriggled away, her sobs turning to chokes.
The Edge of Sanity Page 16
