by Lee Weeks
‘Things seemed a bit tense; they’d worked together for so many years, there were bound to be times when they got on one another’s nerves. What’s this about? Is Manson under suspicion?’
‘No, we’re just trying to get a fuller picture of Eddie’s last couple of weeks, that’s all. He didn’t seem worried to you?’
‘He seemed a bit stressed. I suppose he was a bit more so than usual. He’s usually laid-back. He looked a bit tired, distracted.’
‘Would he have confided in you if something was wrong?’
‘Maybe. But I am always considered the baby of the family. I hope he would have confided in me, yes, but I can’t be sure. We discussed projects that I was working on. He told me about the villas he was building.’
‘And now, is it right that you will be taking over Paradise Villas?’
‘News travels.’
‘Was that something you and Eddie had ever discussed? Was it always on the cards?’
Laurence thought about his answer but then shrugged non-committally.
‘Did you meet the lawyer, Mr Francisco, who wrote up Eddie’s will and witnessed the changes made to it? Did you meet him when you were in Marbella?’
‘I have met him before, but, no, I didn’t see him this time.’
‘He’s gone missing, along with his seven-year-old daughter. He was last seen when he visited Tony on the day of Eddie’s funeral.’
‘Well, I was here in London then, so, I don’t see your point.’
‘You didn’t see him in these last two days?’
‘No, sorry.’ Laurence was beginning to prickle.
‘He seems to have had time to draw up a new will. The original document left everything to his widow, Della. Now this new one, which appears to have arrived from nowhere, leaves everything to Tony. Do you think that’s strange?’
‘I don’t know about that.’
‘His widow being left nothing?’
‘I’ll make sure Della’s well provided for. I’ll take care of these things for her. I don’t know what’s happened about Eddie’s will. Tony has his ways of doing things.’
Willis was studying Laurence.
‘I think you loved your brother, Laurence. I hear Eddie was a good bloke, and I don’t think he deserved to die like this.’ Willis opened her file and started to pass over the crime-scene photos from the car park. ‘What if I told you that your family could have been directly responsible? That one of Tony’s deals went wrong and Eddie paid the price?’
He looked at her angrily. ‘You have no idea,’ he said. ‘I know that you lot don’t give a shit about our family or about who really killed Eddie. We Butchers don’t expect justice to be delivered by you. Eddie’s death had nothing to do with Tony or Harold or anyone with Butcher as a surname.’
‘Why? Because, after all, Tony is an upstanding figure in society who just happens to have a sideline of importing a ton of cocaine a month into the UK.’
‘I know nothing about that.’
‘Okay. You can go, Laurence, but I want you to know we consider you to be in great personal danger. If Eddie can be tortured to death, then so can you.’
‘Thanks for your advice. I’ll take care of myself.’
Willis walked down the corridor so far with him, then headed back to talk to Carter. She found him still in the observation room but in a private conversation on the phone. She hung back as he took a few minutes to end it. He came off the phone looking worried.
‘Is Cabrina okay?’ Willis asked.
He nodded, distracted. ‘Fine.’
‘Your dad okay?’
He nodded.
‘Can we talk?’ he asked.
Willis stepped back inside the observation room and closed the door. She perched on the desk there.
‘What did you think about Laurence?’ asked Carter. ‘If I was him I’d be seriously worried about my health. What have the cartels got to lose by killing him too?’
Willis replied, ‘He doesn’t seem to have any idea what’s going on all around him, unless he’s just really clever at seeming naive. The Butcher family have protected him, haven’t they? Now, Tony’s given him Paradise Villas to keep him happy, to bring him into the fold.’
‘Or to make sure Paradise Villas is steered in the right direction.’
‘Either way, he seems to have drawn a line under his brother’s death.’
‘Are you all right about going to Spain, Eb?’
‘Fine. I’m quite looking forward to it.’
‘What are your thoughts about Ross? What kind of man is he?’ asked Carter. ‘He ran us a bit of a dance in there, didn’t he? I want to be sure about him before we go any further into this deal with the NCA.’
‘Broken marriage, two girls, he’s a Saturday dad. He likes to think of himself as a victim; everything is out of his control. Nothing was his fault. He hasn’t learned anything from his broken marriage. He is always searching for the next high. Work is an adrenalin sport to him. He gets bored, he moves to another department.’
‘But?’
‘But he’s very clever, eccentric, impulsive. He has a low boredom threshold and he is obsessed with bringing Tony to justice, plus, and it’s a big plus, for me, he’s drip-feeding us information relevant to Eddie at the moment, but, if we get him on our side, I think the floodgates will open. It’s a win–win situation, if we’re lucky. If not, we may still get Tony and Harold shut down.’
Carter picked at his fingers, deep in thought. He looked tired, thought Willis. He was full of cold.
He switched off the lights in the observation room as he opened the door to the corridor.
‘You coming?’
‘Dan?’
Carter half stepped back inside.
‘What is it, Eb?’
‘Are you okay?’
‘I am fine, Eb. I’ve got man flu, that’s all.’
‘That’s the third time I’ve seen you take a private call and get funny with me when I’ve come within earshot. Even when it’s Cabrina on the phone you don’t usually need privacy and you don’t usually say more than a couple of sentences. Whoever it is on the other end of the phone means a lot to you.’
‘You know who it is. It’s Della. She’s going through a great deal out there.’
‘Why are you talking to her?’
‘She’s not a suspect in any of this. She needs my help. They are trying to kill her over there in Spain. The Butcher family are literally trying to kill her.’
‘What does she expect you to do about it?’
He shook his head. ‘I’m not sure. What can I do?’
‘Find her husband’s killer and hope that she gets herself out of there fast.’
‘And go where? Where is she going to be safe?’
‘Can we do a deal with witness protection for her?’
He shook his head. ‘I don’t know. I don’t even think that’s what she’d want; after all, what she wants is justice for her husband and to be left with the estate he intended to leave her. Tony is threatening to bulldoze her house down around her ears. Laurence has been given the business. She knows there’s nothing I can do for her; all I can provide is a friendly voice on the other end of the phone, which is what I am doing. When you and Ross go to Spain, you can try to talk to her, see if you can help her circumstances in any way, okay, Eb?’
She nodded. ‘I don’t mind doing that. What I don’t want to be is a go-between for two old lovebirds who are thinking of rebuilding their nest.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous. It will never be like that.’
‘That’s what you say, what you think now; but I know you still feel raw about the relationship break-up. You still feel maybe she was the one that got away. But I just want to point out that we’re all getting tired, we’re all beginning to feel overstressed with this investigation. The last thing you need is to feel emotionally involved in it too. Do you want to step back from it? Do you think you should?’
‘No, Eb, I don’t. Can we leave this now
? She’s a friend, nothing more, and I’m being a friend back to her. Enough said. I’ve had a call from my informant – I’m going to be gone a few hours. See if you can get any more information about Manson. I’ll catch up with you as soon as I get back. And, Eb?’
‘Yes?’
‘I know you mean well. But back off.’
Chapter 29
Della heard the sound of Marco as he came flat-footed through the French windows to the back of the house and the barbecue area.
‘What are you doing?’ She’d lit the fire pit. She was sitting on the patio overlooking the base of the mountains and the almond grove that descended for an acre before the perimeter wall and the start of the ascent.
‘None of your business.’ She didn’t turn to answer him and, after a few minutes, she heard him thudding heavy, barefooted across the marble as he went back inside the villa.
‘I’m going to sleep,’ he called.
Della felt revulsion at his presence in her home, the way he came and went as he pleased. She knew she had to get him out somehow. But she had to come up with something good. The last three days she’d spent going meticulously through her life. She was living on adrenalin. The incident in the almond grove had set something in her mind that Della could not shift. It was her or them. It was live or die. She was shocked that Tony thought he had the right to destroy her, to physically and mentally beat her into a pulp and to leave her buried like
Francisco, in a shallow grave. The one thing she knew was that he was so wrong. Eddie hadn’t chosen her at random. He’d seen the strength in her that she knew she once had. She’d gone a little soft around the edges but, even when she’d fought Tony off in the bathroom, she’d been surprised how training had kicked in. She was a policewoman and she was Della Vincetti long before she was ever a Butcher.
She lifted the last of the papers she’d hidden from his view beneath her chair, and began feeding them into the fire. The breeze caught them and sent burning embers up into the deep sapphire-blue sky. Eddie’s secrets went up in smoke. After she’d finished, she switched on the patio lights and told the maid to light the wood burner in the house and to prepare dinner. She told her not to awaken Marco.
Della went inside to shower. She poured herself more chilled white into a crystal glass, heavy in her manicured hands, and she took it with her into her room, locking the door after she closed it. She sat on her bed and thought hard. Things had to happen now. She looked at her phone. She wanted to call Carter again. She wanted to hear his reassuring voice. She knew he couldn’t help while she stayed in Spain. She’d already decided to get out for now. She’d have to make it on her own. She’d have to play the shrewdest card she’d every played.
She waited till she could hear Marco moving around the kitchen: the clash of the fridge door as he slammed it shut, the rattle of bottles.
She put on her bathrobe and went out into the kitchen. Marco was watching the television mounted on the wall. He was sitting on a bar stool and swivelling it around as he listened to the commentator talking in Spanish on the music station. A rapper was being interviewed.
He stopped swivelling to watch Della as she passed and went to the fridge. She moved around in a sensuous cloud of perfume. Her gold jewellery glistened on her brown skin. Her blond hair curled down her back.
Marco followed her with his eyes. He picked up a hand towel and was wiping the sweat from his body as he watched her. She turned with a bottle of wine in her hand.
‘Drink?’ she asked.
‘Sure.’ He looked surprised. He was used to her ignoring him.
He grinned as he pushed the bottle of beer to one side and turned off the TV sound.
She smiled. ‘Cheers!’ She sat on the stool next to him.
‘You getting ready to go somewhere?’ he asked.
‘I was thinking of inviting myself to dinner at Villa Cassandra. But there’s plenty of time. Tony will be needing some down time. I’ve seen him get this wound-up before. It usually ends in him taking a bucketload of tranquillisers and sleeping for a week.’
‘Ha-ha. You hate Tony, right?’
‘I do now. He had my husband killed.’
Marco shrugged. ‘Maybe, or maybe it was not his fault.’
‘And maybe it was yours.’
‘Mine? No. Why?’
‘Because you and Tony are hatching some plan. Eddie must have found himself in the middle of something he knew nothing about.’
‘How come you think you know so much about it?’
‘Why shouldn’t I? You think I don’t keep my eyes and ears open? You think I’m as stupid as Tony likes to think I am? Tony doesn’t know everything; he doesn’t have all the answers.’ She smiled sweetly at Marco as she allowed her robe to open up and show her bare tanned legs.
Marco looked at her curiously. He reached over to top up her glass as she continued: ‘I’ve spent the last few days going through Eddie’s affairs. I’ve seen papers here in this villa that no one but Eddie and his lawyer has ever seen. I know what his plans were and they did not include dying for Tony or taking part in any cheap drugs deal.’
‘Cheap? None of it comes cheap, princess.’
‘Except my husband’s life, it seems. It’s taken a little while to sink in but now I understand a few things very clearly. Tony thinks I am going to go without a fight. He is wrong. If you think I don’t have friends in high places, you are wrong. I can get my hands on a lot of money. I have a lot of options in life.’
‘How much is a lot?’
‘Upwards from a hundred million. That’s what this is all about, isn’t it? It’s always about money with Tony.’
‘Jesus!’ He grinned.
She laughed. ‘Never underestimate me. I could be a good friend to you.’
He grinned stupidly. ‘I am sure you could. But I don’t know why you would want to be.’
‘I have a deal I want to put to Tony.’
‘So what is this, real or no?’
‘Oh, it’s definitely real. Phone Tony and tell him I have a proposition to put to him. Tell him to expect me for dinner.’
He laughed. ‘Si, señora.’
Back in her room, Della tried Carter’s number again. She left a message.
‘I need to see you, Dan. I’ve decided what I’m going to do and I’m coming to the UK. I’ll ring you when I get there. I’m so grateful to you, Dan. I’m sorry to put all this on you. I know it’s a difficult situation for you but I feel like I have the answer to it. Can’t wait to see you.’
Chapter 30
Carter looked around him as he walked into St Matthew’s Church in Bethnal Green.
‘What have you got for me, Melvin? Why are we meeting here?’
They were alone but Melvin kept looking around as if he expected to be jumped.
‘You okay, Melvin?’ Carter asked. Melvin didn’t look good. He sometimes had bouts of depression.
He shook his head. He was walking backwards up towards the front of the church, between the chairs that had replaced pews when the church became more of a community centre. Now it provided a meeting place and playgroup facility in the week as well as multifaith religious services.
‘Did you find out any more for me?’ asked Carter.
Melvin nodded. ‘But I need more money. I can’t work.’ He looked up at Carter, panic in his eyes. ‘Scamp is gone.’ He started crying.
‘Whoa, slow down. What’s the problem, Melvin? I thought business was good? What do you mean Scamp has gone? Where?’
‘I let him out the front for a pee and he vanished.’
‘Did you ring up Battersea Dogs Home?’
‘Yes. It’s not good. He’s gone. They’ve killed him. Scamp never hurt anyone. Did he?’
‘He’ll come back. I’ll make enquiries for you; I’ll put up a reward for his return. Two hundred quid, how’s that? Come on, Melvin, come here.’ Carter held open his arms and Melvin sobbed into Carter’s coat. ‘Come on, let’s sit down here for a while and talk.’
‘I can’t work. I’m too worried.’ He blew his nose in the hanky Carter handed him.
‘What about the staff in the Blind Beggar? Do they know anything?’
‘I haven’t asked them. I’ve been too scared, in case he comes back and finds me gone. I don’t dare leave my house; this is the first time I’ve come out. I’ve left the door open just in case he comes when I’m not there.’
‘You shouldn’t do that. You better get off home. Have you been to the doc’s, Melvin? You’re getting ill again.’ He kept shaking his head. ‘Look, here we are.’ Carter took out his wallet and pulled out all the notes he had.
‘There’s a couple of hundred quid there. You go home and get a photo of Scamp and text it to me and I’ll alert the patrol cars to look out for him, okay? I’ll get in touch with the dog wardens.’
‘Thank you, Inspector. I did have something to tell you. It may not be much but I’ve seen that man again. You asked me about a man in one of the photos. I saw him in a café. He was with someone. I took this picture for you. I pretended to be looking at the menu. I hope that’s clear. I’ll send it to you now.’
Carter looked at the photo.
‘When was this taken, Melvin?’
‘This was taken two days ago. It’s that bloke I showed you before.’
‘Who, this guy?’ Carter tapped on the photo and enlarged it. ‘You never showed me him before.’
‘Didn’t I? I’ve seen him around here a few times, talking to the big ugly bloke. Do you know him?’
‘Yes, his name is Manson. Does that mean anything to you?’
Melvin shook his head. ‘I’ve just been keeping a lookout for the big ugly one with the bun.’
‘Marco.’
‘That’s him. Haven’t seen him for a week or two.’
‘Who is Manson with?’
‘I couldn’t risk getting a better shot of him. I thought you might know him. He’s a really dodgy bloke. He’s been in the area about a month. I’ve seen him around but he isn’t friendly. He speaks to Lev now and again, but no one seems to want to talk long with him. I tried a conversation with him once, in the pub. He speaks good English, with a South American accent. You can ask Lev about him. I don’t know what’s going on around here but everyone’s scared. Even Lev.’
