Uncommon Cruelty (a DI Gus McGuire case Book 4)

by Liz Mistry

  She motioned to the guard, and without another look at Gus, walked away. Gus glanced round the room and saw that most of the inmates were smirking. Shocked by his own stupidity, he groaned. What the fuck have I done?

  Don’t know how I held it together when I saw Gus. All I wanted to do was throw myself into his arms and beg him to take me home. Right, like that would have worked. I did the right thing telling him to fuck off. Hairy Mary had her eyes on him from the get-go. Knew he was a copper.

  I lower myself onto my bed. There’s still a faint whiff of shit in the air from where they smeared my pillow. Must be imagining it. Thought I got it all. Lulu gave me a wet wipe to get it off my sheet. Don’t get clean ones for another three days. I remade my bed. Put the bit with the cleaned off shit to the bottom, but it’s still there.

  Ribs hurt. One’s broken, I’m sure of it. Maybe two. Don’t think Gus could tell, though. Bitter sweet to see him. So much I wanted to ask. How was Sampson’s funeral? Fuck, get a grip, Alice, don’t let them see you crying. The funeral would’ve been grand. Gus would’ve made sure of that. Fucking little prick, Proctor. Hope he comes around soon, so he can get put away. My lawyer says the evidence against him is overwhelming. Now all we… they need, is to put the little bastard away. My lawyer also says the evidence against me is overwhelming. Fucking Sean Kennedy. What they need to do is find out what he has on all the witnesses who’re lying to put me away… sooner rather than later, too. Don’t know if I’ll be able to last much longer.

  Gus’ heart was in his shoes making each step away from the yellow brick building heavier than the previous one. He’d made a huge miscalculation in visiting Alice and he only hoped her show of defiance was enough to keep her safe.

  He walked over to Alice’s aubergine Mini and walked straight into Patti Copley’s arms. Breathing in her perfume made him flash back to Alice’s pitiful figure as she’d stormed away from him. Who was offering Alice comfort? He’d left her back there in an environment that smelled of boiled cabbage and violence. He’d no business indulging himself with Patti, who’d refused to take no for an answer when he’d tried to shut her out after the case had been wrapped up.

  Torn in two, his mind with Alice, his senses all too aware of Patti, he absorbed her strength for a long minute and then stepped from her embrace and tossed the Mini’s keys to her. ‘You drive, my arm’s sore.’

  Patti caught the keys and weighed them in her hand before tossing them back at Gus. Her voice was gentle but firm, ‘She made you promise to look after it, not me. You owe her.’

  A pulse throbbed at Gus’ temple. Hell, he knew he owed her. Alice was not only his colleague; she was his friend. She’d stood by him when Greg died and when Gabriella walked out. She was always there for him. He gave an abrupt nod, Patti was right he owed Al, so he folded himself into Alice’s Mini. She’d sent him a letter insisting look after her beloved Mini, and Gus, in the weeks since her arrest, had done so. ‘Never even got the chance to tell her Minnie was okay,’ he said, his voice gruff.

  Patti turned to him. ‘Tell me.’

  ‘Nothing to say. Shouldn’t have gone in. I’ve probably put her at risk. Looks like Sean Kennedy’s got spies all over the joint.’ He paused and ran his fingers through his dreads, ‘She looked so diminutive and skinny. Life fucking sucks, Patti. Justice is a fucking myth… a joke.’

  Coming Soon

  DI Gus McGuire will return in Unspoken Truths , the 5th book in the series. Coming , Winter 2018 .

  Read on for an exclusive preview of Unspoken Truths

  Unspoken Truths

  Prologue

  Tired and aching, her body pushed to its limitations, Alice left the prison gym with a cursory glance at the two other prisoners who also seemed to use physical activity to combat their demons. She never spoke to them, nor they to her, but, despite that, there was an unspoken bond between them. An appreciation of each other’s determination and stamina. Her gaze shifted and all too aware of her ‘stalkers’ loitering by the exercise balls, two of them sprawled like beached whales on the mats, the other leaning against the wall, one foot resting on an inflated turquoise ball, rolling it back and forth, an unlit cigarette hanging from the corner of her mouth, Alice kept her gaze low as she entered the shower area. Until her imprisonment months earlier she’d only ever worked out in mixed gyms and the absence of testosterone in a gym where female sweat was regularly broken, never ceased to amaze her. Not that there was a lack of seriousness to the activity. No. Those who worked out, did so with a focus and determination akin to fanaticism. The gym was a basic, no frills joint, it’s main aim being to dispel the ‘stir crazy’, and it worked. Well, it did for Alice. It was one of only two things in here that kept her sane.

  She stripped her workout clothes off, flung them on the wooden bench and stepped under the shower head. Banging her palm against the button, she raised her hand to meet the lukewarm flow of water. One of the guard’s should have accompanied her inside, but they’d been too busy huddled together gossiping. No doubt, they would notice her absence from the gym and catch up with her here in a minute but, for now, Alice welcomed being alone. She rested her head on the wall and savoured the water cooling her body, washing the sweat away. The door clicked open and a quick smirk tugged Alice’s lips for a second. Big Brother was on her case!

  As she pushed her forehead from the wall she paused, sensing movement behind her. A snigger, close by her ear had her ducking. Whirling round on one leg, the other bent at the knee, she saw a body mass before her it’s arms extended ready to grab her by the throat. Alice extended her leg in a power kick that connecting with pink covered flab, eliciting an ‘oomph’ sound before collapsing in a curled-up position on the wet floor. Fists up, bobbing on the balls of her feet, Alice flicked water from her short hair. Eyes darting round the room she saw she had two more adversaries to face; Hairy Bloody Mary and her last remaining sidekick. Where was the guard? Surely, they’d noticed her absence by now? Alice sighed and weighed up the odds. Neither of her opponents was, what you’d call, in ‘peak physical condition’ so she reckoned she’d be able to dodge them. It all depended on whether the prison guard was actually going to put in an appearance, or, as Alice was beginning to suspect, had all too willingly turned a blind eye. She cursed herself. She should’ve known better than to sneak off on her own.

  Narrowing her eyes, Alice relaxed her clenched fingers and dropped them to waist height, her palms towards the other two women. Wiggling her fingers in a ‘come on then’ sort of gesture she raised her chin and glowered at them. “What you waiting for? Better odds?”

  Hairy Mary, her red hair ratted around her face like a henna-maned lion, took a step towards Alice, “Fucking got ya now, Cooper? Fucking got ya.”

  Ignoring her thumping heart and the transitory thought that being naked in a fight wasn’t the best scenario she’d faced, Alice held her ground. Mary’s pasty arms reached towards Alice, so Alice sidestepped which brought her closer to Mary’s mate; the one Alice had named Haudit, a phrase borrowed from Doc McGuire. Daudit had already been disposed of and still lay in a heap on the ground moaning softly. A fleeting expression of wide eyed panic crossed Haudit’s spotty face as Alice lifted her arms and stepped even closer. It was then that the slow clapping began. Alice halted. A huge grin replaced the earlier anxiety on Haudit’s face. A quick glance showed that Hairy Mary’s was grinning too – a Cheshire lion with spots and a minging mane. Alice looked to the right and her heart plummeted. How the hell had she not noticed Baby Jane (inflictor of pain) enter the arena? Not much bigger than Alice, Baby Jane, nonetheless, made Hannibal Lector seem sane.

  Alice glanced around, looking for a way out. Wherever Baby Jane was, her goons wouldn’t be far behind and Alice didn’t want to wait around to see what the woman had in store for her. Taking a sideways step, Alice grabbed Haudit, and despite the excessive poundage the other woman carried, she managed to swing her round with ease before releasing her straight into Baby Jane. Not waiting
to witness the impact, Alice dodged back, her eye on the shower room door. Within arm’s reach of it, she felt a vice like grip on each of her upper arms as she was yanked backwards and slammed against the wall. A hand against her throat kept her in place, her toes only just skimming the floor. From what seemed like miles above her two cold eyes looked down at Alice. Aw shit, Baby Jane’s enforcer was here. The colour drained from Alice face and after a couple of seconds struggling in vain, she went limp. Hairy Mary and her team had congregated by the door, guarding it, no doubt.

  Baby Jane and her crew studied Alice as if she was a specimen. The enforcer released Alice’s throat and, knowing better than to show weakness, Alice raised her chin and stared straight at Baby Jane, aware that, with Jane’s thugs holding her arms by her sides, her options were limited.

  Jane, eyes as blue as a summer’s sea sent a shiver down Alice’s spine. The smile on the woman’s face didn’t match with the emptiness in her eyes. This was a woman practised in feigning emotion. The only person, Alice had ever met with a similar expression was The Matchmaker and thankfully he was behind bars. Whatever Baby Jane wanted with her, Alice new it would not be in her best interests. Despite herself, she shivered and, apparently aware of it, Jane’s enforcer released a yelp of pure gleeful excitement. It reminded Alice of the over excite reactions of hounds about to be let loose on a fox. Alice swallowed down the wave of nausea that engulfed her and did the only thing she could do …

  Utilising the firmness of her attacker’s hold on her arms, Alice waited till Jane was close enough to her, then in an instant leaned her weight against their grip, pushed both feet from the floor and, knees bent, before extending them and catapulting them at Jane’s chest. Jane stumbled backwards a yowl of unadulterated rage hung in the cubicle and the smile was gone from her face in an instant. Her goons, increased the pressure on Alice’s arms, forcing her back against the wall. As her head cracked against the tiles, Alice flinched, her eyesight clouded. She forced herself to shake her head, shake out the dizziness. Jane was coming for her, her arms raised like a banshee, her mouth open in a feral snarl. Alice backed up until the cold tiles pressed against her buttocks. There was nothing she could do, nowhere to go.

  Jane breathing heavily smashed against her body. Alice breath poofed from her, her bones shuddered, then an agonising pain at her breast. Breathing in short pants, Alice’s eyes flew open and she saw Jane dancing in front of her, something bloody gripped between her teeth, blood dripping down her skin. Her eyes fastened on Alice, she snarled, baring her teeth and then with one finger she pushed Alice’s nipple into her own mouth and smiled. Two chews … still grinning, she gave an exaggerated swallow and then opened her mouth wide in front of Alice , for all the world as if she was on I’m a Celebrity Get Me Out Of Here. ‘All gone!’

  Alice vomited, bile spewing down her chin and smacking onto the floor below. Jane leaned over and banged the button and a cascade of water spouted over them. “Let her go!’

  Jane’s goons released Alice and she fell to the floor as Jane straddled her, leaning in close. Alice, in a final act of defiance, stared her out. Jane extended a hand to one of her goons who place something in it. Jane took the pink Unicorn shaped toothbrush and studied it. The handle had been fashioned into a home-made Shiv, honed to a point with a blade inserted for good measure. Alice knew what was coming next. Sean had finally got to her…

  The water pounded her body, warm prickles fading to cold. Curled in the foetal position, cowering, she shivered, watching trickles of pink tinged liquid flow towards the plughole where it swirled momentarily; a silent gurgle before eddying away. She was numb. The shiv had punctured her skin, created a wound that leaked her blood onto the shower room tiles, yet … no pain. For the few moments after the shiv was pulled out, she’d waited, anticipating another thrust, but none had come. Just whispered words in her ear, a combination of foul smelling cigarettes, caffeine and the remnants of that evenings boiled veg concoction. It wasn’t the foulness of her attacker’s breath that made her blood run cold though, it was the husky words … the threat.

  Alice clutched her side. The strange discrepancy between her blood, warm as it left her body, and the coolness of the shower made her dizzy. She had to hold on. She had to survive this, for if she didn’t, the worst thing imaginable would happen and she couldn’t be responsible for that. She couldn’t be responsible for more deaths. She needed to hold on. As her eyelids flickered and her hand, pressed to her side, weak and shaking, voices, hollow and echoey drifted above her. Shadows floated like phantoms around her and hands touched her skin. She clenched, trying to protest, then pressure was applied to the puncture site and gentle fingers skimmed across her forehead, she recognised the voice. Footsteps running, the shower’s pounding stopped, softness replaced the hardness under her head …. then, nothing.

  10:40 Rural Rover train Manchester - Bradford

  Jess sighed and directed her best school teacher frown at the young man sitting opposite her. It was irritating enough that this interminable train ride from Manchester to Bradford was running late, but being forced to listen to the thrum from the lad’s headphones was just too much. The lad seemed oblivious to her annoyance, his head bopping in time to some annoying rhythm, no doubt filled with inane thoughts of sweaty encounters or scoring his next hit. She’d looked forward to having the time to read her book, but now he’d gone and spoiled it. No more than she’d come to expect from youngsters today. Resigned, she slipped a bookmark between the pages of her romantic novel and closed it. Leaning back against the head rest to watch the countryside pass by, she tried to ignore his blonde head bobbing at the edge of her vision. His extra-long fringe flopped over his eyes making her want to reach out and push it back behind his ears. His knee bounced and his hand drummed on the Formica table top and that combined with the train’s persistent rattle, made his Costa cup dance across the table top. If it spilled on her new coat she’d be extremely annoyed.

  Turning her head, Jess looked to see if she could move, but each table in the small carriage was occupied. She glared at the offending cup and then at the boy. His spotty face broke into a lopsided grin and he pulled his headphones off. “Just love that song.” He leaned both elbows on the table and looked straight at Jess. “It’s just pure brilliant. Sorted. You know?”

  In the face of such enthusiasm Jess’ earlier irritation faded as she risked a small smile in return. No point in being overly friendly, she didn’t want to be engaged in a long blown out conversation with a teenager. “I probably wouldn’t know the song, love. Nor the band, come to that.”

  “Course you would … Everyone’s heard of the Beatles.” He laughed and raised his hand in the air to high five her.

  Jess hesitated for a second. The song had been familiar, but she’d dismissed it as one of the latest radio favourites, played incessantly. Then, hoping no one was witnessing this strange encounter, she lifted her own hand to reciprocate with a small laugh. “Yes, you’re right. Even I’ve heard of the Beatles.”

  The lad nodded, pulled his headphones on again and was soon lost in the rhythm.

  As the train rattled towards Rawsforth, Jess hummed along to the now identifiable strains of Norwegian Woods fading into Maxwell’s Silver Hammer.

  Helen struggled to settle her two-year-old. Sammy had a slight cold and was tetchy. But she’d decided to brave the one and a half hour journey to her mums rather than be home alone with her husband away. Now, she wished she hadn’t bothered. A fluey headache pounded at her temples, her sinuses were blocked and she was sure she’d caught it from Sammy. The only thing worse than trying to entertain a poorly toddler on a train was trying to do it when you felt poorly yourself. The only thing helping her to hold it together was the thought that when she reached Bradford, she could hand Sammy over to her parents until she felt better. Perhaps spending a few days with her parents wasn’t such a great one after all. Maybe she should have struggled on at home on her own.

  After tantrums and tea
rs and grumpy throwing of toys across the carriage, Sammy’s head drooped against her shoulder in a deep sleep, sucking on his dummy. Helen breathed a sigh of relief and for the first time glanced around at her fellow passengers. Her lips tightened when she noticed the young Asian man opposite, so engrossed on his phone. Would you bloody credit it? She’d left Bradford and moved to a rural village to get away from the Pakis and yet here she was, still in the leafy suburbs and she was surrounded by them. Well, ok it was only one of them, but still, they weren’t in Bradford yet. Everything about the man annoyed her from his overgrown bushy beard down to his expensive trainers. God she hated them! Everyone knew you couldn’t trust them but they were just too scared to say it out loud. Her grip on Sammy tightened a little and she angled him away from the lad and tried to look out the window to distract herself. God she felt rough.

  Seconds later, she jumped when he muttered Fuck under his breath and threw his phone on the table. Almost at once, he snatched it up again and frowning, turned to glare out the window. Helen’s lips tightened. Sammy was heavy and combined with the tension across her shoulders she thought her arms would break. Pulling her handbag onto her knee she edged closer to the edge of her seat. That’s when she noticed the horrible black and white Paki scarf lying on top of his rucksack and images of the news feeds from the recent arena bombing played across her mind. She glanced anxiously at her watch; another forty minutes to go. Who knew what might be in that rucksack and why the hell was he fiddling with his phone so much. In a decisive move she stood up, hoisted Sammy up to lean on one shoulder and swung his changing bag and her hand bag onto the other. A quick glance round the carriage and then decision made she moved nearer to the exit, where the blind man and his dog sat.