The Broken_A gripping thriller that will have you on the edge of your seat

by Casey Kelleher

  His ribs cracking, his head feeling as if it was starting to cave in with each blow. He could taste blood in the back of his throat. Feel it trickling out of his nose. A hot mind-numbing pain all over his body as he burned from the stinging blows.

  ‘Please?’ he mumbled, not sure now if any sound was even leaving his mouth.

  Trying to sit up, his hands cupped protectively over the top of his head.

  Another punch came then, this time knocking his teeth out. Sending him flying back down on the floor.

  Then a boot stamping down on his face.

  Then darkness…

  Walking down Dean Street, thoroughly annoyed with himself for leaving his phone behind at the bar, Jeremy Cooper couldn’t wait to get home to bed.

  A few hours’ sleep and then he could head back down here early in the morning, armed with his usual bag full of croissants and a frothy cappuccino. After a busy week manning his bar, there was nothing else quite like a Sunday morning in Soho, just before the main hustle and bustle started again for the day. When half of London were still in bed. The Sunday shopping trade not due for another couple of hours.

  He’d only left an hour ago and already Soho was quieter than earlier. There were still people around. Not as many. The main throngs of people all partying and cavorting, drinking and dancing, had made their way through the maze of bars and late-night shows scattered all around Soho. Filtering out now into just the odd small group of people making their way home for the night.

  Just where Jeremy Cooper should be.

  Instead he was making his way up the cobbled street towards his bar; irritated now he took in a deep breath of air. Though part of him couldn’t help but think that maybe forgetting his phone was a blessing in disguise. As much as he appreciated Ross’s rare offer of help last night with closing everything up, the chances were that he wouldn’t have done everything properly. Not the way that Jeremy liked his bar clean.

  Placing the key in the lock, he narrowed his eyes as the door instantly pushed open.

  ‘For fuck’s sake!’ he said, annoyed that Ross Nicolson couldn’t seem to do anything right as he mumbled away to himself. ‘I should have known he couldn’t be bloody trusted. Bloody man’s an idiot. Who locks up for the night, and leaves the front door wide op?—’

  The last word of his sentence didn’t leave Jeremy’s lips. Instead it was replaced with a stifled moan, as he stood frozen to the spot. His eyes fixed on the mangled body splayed out in the middle of the floor. The face unrecognisable now. The features replaced with a mushy red pulp of broken flesh and skin. A pool of deep red blood congealed around the man’s head pouring out all across his beautiful restored oak floor.

  Immobilised, his arms hanging from him limply as he went into shock, he let the keys that he was holding slip to the floor as he let out a loud, strangled scream.

  Then Jeremy Cooper threw up the contents of his stomach.

  Ross Nicolson was dead.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  ‘Where the fuck are you?’ Shouting down the phone, Jack Taylor was beyond pissed off. He’d been calling Daniel for the past ten minutes as he’d driven across London like a lunatic. Now, as he pulled up outside The Karma Club, spotting the police cars that were all lined up out the front, finally, Daniel Byrne had picked up the phone.

  ‘Oh, that’s fucking charming that is. Whatever happened to saying hello when you call someone, huh?’ Daniel replied tartly. ‘I mean it’s only common courtesy, I guess, not the fucking law, but still—’

  ‘Stop with the wisecracks, Daniel. We’ve got a fucking problem,’ Jack said, deliberately stopping Daniel in his tracks with his smart-arse comments; he wasn’t in the mood for it tonight. Especially not now that he had arrived at the club and was about to face his colleagues and probably have a world of mess that he needed to try and cover the fuck up on Daniel’s behalf. ‘Well, actually it’s you who has the problem, Daniel! I take it you haven’t heard yet?’

  ‘Haven’t heard what? Do you coppers only ever talk in fucking riddles? Cut to the chase, Jack…’

  Jack closed his eyes in despair, recognising the slur in Daniel’s words. The man was drunk. Again. Judging by the fact that there was no urgency in his tone to find out why Jack was ringing him in the middle of the night only confirmed that Daniel was indeed hammered.

  Great! Just what Jack needed. To babysit that twat tonight.

  Daniel being drunk was only going to antagonise the situation further if Alfie Harris went on the warpath. Which Jack Taylor knew would be a certainty. Time was literally of the essence right now, so he got straight to the point.

  ‘That little plan you had about dishing out class As in The Karma Club. I warned you not to do it, didn’t I? I told you not to get involved in shit you know nothing about. Well, you’ve really gone and fucked yourself, Daniel. Some kid’s only gone and OD’d on fucking Ecstasy; only it turns out that this ain’t just some kid. It’s Alfie Harris’s daughter. She’s sixteen, Daniel. Do you know the shit you’ve just gone and fucking caused? The man is going to fucking annihilate you when he finds out that it was you that okayed the gear being sold in his club!’

  The silence down the phone was deafening. The only sound, Daniel breathing.

  Glad that Daniel had finally shut the fuck up talking and let the seriousness of the situation finally dawn on him, Jack knew he had the bloke’s full attention, and about time too.

  But Daniel just wasn’t getting it.

  ‘How the fuck am I to blame? How was I to know his fucking daughter was going to get hold of the shit?’ Daniel said; as always, not willing to take the blame for his actions.

  Jack pursed his mouth. Typical Daniel. The man’s immediate response was always to find some other fucker to pass the buck to. ‘If she’s only sixteen then she shouldn’t even have been in the club. Fuck knows which of the blokes served it up to her, but it has nothing to do with me.’

  ‘Only, that’s just it, Daniel. It has everything to do with you because you’re the idiot who gave it the green fucking light to start flogging the shit in the club. You’re the one who called off your father and Alex’s supplier. You didn’t even tell your sister. This is all going to fall back on you! Have you heard the stories about Alfie Harris when he was one of London’s main players? The man might claim to be retired from all that shit these days, but fuck me, if anything happens to his daughter you can mark my words you’ll be getting a visit from him sometime very soon, and you won’t be walking away from it, Daniel. The man is a fucking lunatic.’

  Jack waited for his warning to finally sink in to Daniel Byrne’s thick skull. For Daniel to start begging for help, to sound contrite at least.

  Only, Daniel wasn’t going to do any of that. He was doing what he always did and throwing his toys out of the pram instead. Saving his own arse by threatening to take any other fucker around him down with him too.

  ‘Well you better make this right then, Jack. Hadn’t you?!’

  ‘How the fuck can I make this right? It’s already happened. This is going to come back on you, Daniel, there’ll be fuck all I can do to save your arse now. You did this; you’re going to have to deal with the consequences.’

  ‘Is that so? Only, you’ve got some consequences of your own to sort out. Haven’t you, Jack?’ Daniel let his threat linger in the air between them both. The two men silent at either end of the phone. Knowing exactly what Daniel was referring to.

  ‘Why don’t we talk about where you were on the night my father got killed, Jack, eh?’ Daniel said then, playing his ace card.

  ‘You fucking piece of shit!’ Jack snarled.

  Daniel laughed.

  ‘I bet your lot would love to hear all about that. Wouldn’t they?’ A bent copper hiding out in my dad’s car. Watching as Jimmy Byrne got shot in the chest by his own son. And did you fucking help him? Did you fuck. You were too interested in the payout, weren’t you? Taking half the money in return for your silence. Maybe I should just tell them all
the truth, huh? Seeing as the shit’s going to hit the fan anyway. Fuck it, I’ll tell them everything. How you were in on my father’s murder too. That you were an accessory. Fuck it, you were an accomplice.’

  Slamming his fists on the steering wheel, Jack closed his eyes. Furious with himself forever thinking that Daniel would keep his mouth shut about what went on that night.

  Of course he wouldn’t.

  Daniel only paid Jack Taylor half the money that he’d taken from his father that night, as a sweetener. It was insurance money to keep Jack from talking.

  Jack had stupidly taken it, too.

  Too much to refuse, two-hundred-and-fifty grand was; only, Daniel would use that against him forever now.

  ‘You were never supposed to fucking shoot him, Daniel. You were supposed to take the money and fucking run. That was the deal. You said that you were just blackmailing him. You didn’t say fuck all to me about murder. You did that. Alone.’

  ‘But you were there, Jack. You saw it all. Yet you didn’t fucking do anything about it, did you?’

  Jack couldn’t argue with that. It was true. He’d been so shocked at first. Watching as his friend had fallen to the ground. The blood pouring out of him, as he lay on the cold wet dockyard.

  It all happened so quickly.

  Daniel and Marlon racing out of there with the money. Leaving Jack crouching in the back of Jimmy’s car. That had been the worst part about it all. How Jimmy had asked him to keep watch, as backup. But Jack had known the plan all along.

  Daniel had told him it was foolproof. That it was only ever about the money. Jack never wanted his friend to get killed in the process. But once Jimmy had been announced dead, what else could he do? The damage had already been done.

  They had the money.

  Daniel’s little plan to blackmail his old man had completely gone tits up, but no amount of regret or remorse would bring Jimmy back.

  Jack only had two options after that.

  Tell the truth about what happened and risk losing everything. His career as a DI. All those years of climbing the corporate ladder, for what? To lose it all now over Daniel Byrne’s stupid bloody plan?

  Or he could keep his mouth shut and say nothing.

  Then, at least, in some ways, Jimmy’s death wouldn’t have been completely in vain.

  Jack had walked away with quarter of a million.

  Blood money.

  He’d let his greed get the better of him, and he would now forever be at Daniel Byrne’s mercy because of it.

  ‘What about my sister, Jack? What do you reckon she will say when I tell her why you’ve really been following her about? That you got rid of any evidence that had been left at the dockyard that night. That you tried to get rid of the laptop, too, only you couldn’t even do that, could you?’ Daniel was in his element now. Putting Jack Taylor firmly in his place. The man was going to make tonight right no matter what. ‘I wonder what Nancy will say when she finds out that you paid one of your dodgy fucking informants to follow her on the night of our father’s funeral? That you arranged for her to be scared off. How did you word it again? Oh that’s it, you were going to shake her up a bit. Threaten her to steer clear of making any more enquires. Only, you shit her right up, didn’t you?’ Daniel was really laughing now. This was the best bit of all. Jack Taylor had made a fucking holy show of his sister, yet Nancy had no fucking idea. Even now she was being played. Confiding in Jack, thinking that he was her confidant, when he was reporting back to Daniel all along.

  For a girl who liked to think she was so smart, she really was completely clueless.

  ‘Stupid cow thinks you’re her knight in shining armour right about now, doesn’t she? She’s got no clue that the only reason you’ve been following her around like a bad fucking smell lately is because you’ve been making sure she isn’t on to us. On to you!’

  ‘You really are a piece of work,’ Jack said through gritted teeth. Thinking of tonight with Nancy. How they’d made love. He knew she thought it was a mistake, and shit, perhaps it was, but something had changed tonight.

  Jack had really felt something for Nancy, and he truly believed that she felt it too.

  ‘You’re in this with me, Jack, and don’t you fucking forget it, mate.’ Daniel grinned, knowing full well that no matter what happened with Alfie Harris tonight, Jack Taylor would have to make it right now. He had no choice. ‘So you go in that club and you fucking sort this. You make sure that some other fucker gets landed with the blame for all this. I don’t give a fuck who!’ Daniel said now, his voice calm once more. ‘In fact. Stick it on that twat Jenson Reed. The bloke’s a fucking bellend anyway. It would have been him that gave the shit to the girl. Let him take the fucking fallout for it. Do whatever the fuck you have to, Jack, but do not let my name get dragged into this, because, if it does, I’m going to drag you down with me.’ With that Daniel Byrne hung up the phone, his confidence that the situation was resolved to his satisfaction fully restored.

  Jack Taylor would be a fool to go against him now.

  Chapter Thirty

  ‘I didn’t hear you come in!’ Walking into his lounge, Sam Miles rubbed at his eyes and glanced over to the clock, pretending that he was still half asleep and that he hadn’t been pacing the floor waiting up for Daniel to come home from another one of his drunken benders. Sam knew how much Daniel was getting pissed off with him constantly checking up on him, and asking questions, only he couldn’t seem to help himself.

  He’d never felt like this about anyone before.

  They’d only been seeing each other for a few months. It had been casual, at first, but Daniel had quickly become intense. Wanting to be with Sam twenty-four-seven. Wanting to talk for hours, to go out and get pissed together. To fuck.

  Sam had found it flattering, at first.

  They’d both attended the same private school, and couldn’t have been more opposite if they’d tried. Sam was the quiet one. The smart one. Top of the class with all his grades, he never imagined Daniel would even look twice at him, though somehow Daniel had.

  Sam couldn’t believe his luck.

  A man like Daniel Byrne. So dark and mysterious, it set him on edge. Sam knew about the kind of family that Daniel came from. Everyone at the school had heard of the notorious Byrne family and, as much as his common sense had told him to steer clear, not to get involved, he’d quickly fallen hard for the man. Daniel had become like a drug to him.

  But recently, their relationship had taken a rapid decline. Daniel had become really detached, not just from him, from everyone. Drinking all day long, suffering from acute bouts of anger and depression, the next minute full of excitement and wild ideas. They’d stopped spending any real time together, Daniel preferring to go out on his own, late at night. He no longer stayed over as often either, and when he did decide that he wanted to stay at Sam’s flat, he didn’t get here until the early hours of the morning. Even then he’d turn up half-cut and in a foul mood.

  He never seemed to have any straight answers about his whereabouts either. If Sam asked him where he’d been or what he’d been up to, Daniel lost his shit, accusing Sam of trying to control him, of keeping tabs on him.

  So instead, Sam just had to mind his own business, trying his absolute best to be patient with Daniel. Though no matter what he did it seemed he couldn’t ever win, and it was getting harder and harder to try and ignore his boyfriend’s erratic behaviour. The more Daniel acted as if he wasn’t into him any more, the more Sam Miles had started behaving like some paranoid bunny boiler of a boyfriend.

  ‘Hey, are you all right, Daniel?’ Sam said, seeing him sitting there in silence, staring at the floor as if he was in some sort of a trance.

  Daniel’s father’s death had affected him much worse than he’d been letting on. To his family, to Sam. To himself even. The truth was, it was eating away at the man. Sam knew that Daniel didn’t know how to deal with his emotions, not properly. So instead he’d started shutting himself off from people
. Putting up a guard and not letting anyone in. Sam included.

  Only, it was starting to drive a huge wedge between them both and Sam had had enough.

  ‘Daniel, please. Talk to me?’

  Looking at Daniel now, slumped on the sofa, the stench of drink that filled the room, knowing full well that even drunk as he was, Daniel wouldn’t tell him shit about where he’d been tonight, Sam couldn’t help himself. ‘Who was that you were just talking to on the phone?’ he said, his curiosity getting the better of him.

  He’d been intending on playing it cool tonight. Not letting Daniel know that he’d had his ear pressed up against the bedroom door, as he tried his hardest to listen in to the heated conversation he’d been having. But Sam hadn’t been able to catch much of the conversation. He’d only managed to hear a snippet here and there about Daniel’s dad. Then Daniel had started raising his voice.

  He was starting to wonder if Daniel was cheating on him. All these late nights out on his own. The whispered phone calls. Even now, overhearing Daniel on the phone, Sam had decided to go out and see if he was okay, but the conversation had quickly ended, and Daniel had flung the phone down on the chair beside him.

  ‘It was no one. Mind your business,’ he said then. Not bothering to look up. He wasn’t in the mood for Sam and his constant fucking whining and insecurities tonight.

  But Sam wasn’t just going to let up.

  ‘For fuck sake, Daniel, why can’t you just tell me who it was?’

  Walking towards him the first thing Sam clocked was the red stains on Daniel’s knuckles. The spray of blood all up his clothes. That’s when he realised things were far from okay.

  ‘Fuck! What’s happened to you? Are you okay?’ he said as he neared, bending down and trying to take Daniel’s hand; the panic evident in his voice now as he wondered what the fuck had happened. ‘Shit. Have you been attacked? Shall I call the police?

  Daniel waved him off. Up on his feet, not wanting any fuss, he shook his head, irritated. ‘I’m fine. Stop with the fucking dramatics. What’s with the twenty fucking questions, Sam? I don’t need it right now. Do me a favour and shut the fuck up, will you!’ Getting up from the chair. Away from Sam and his puppy-dog fucking eyes, Daniel paced the lounge, running his fingers through his hair. Clearly agitated.