Death Trap: Rosie Gilmour 8

by Anna Smith

  ‘Jonjo! I’ve got it! Listen, man, there’s somebody screaming for help down here, but I don’t know where it’s coming from. Somewhere along the path at the bottom. There’s a wee kind of stream. Can you get down here pronto?’

  The line went dead, and in a few moments, Jonjo and Danny appeared at the top of the hill and scaled their way down.

  ‘What’s happening? Where’s the sound coming from?’

  They all stood in silence, listening. Again the shouting. ‘Help!’ It was definitely a woman’s desperate cries.

  ‘Fuck! It’s coming from down there. What the fuck!’

  All three of them rushed down, slipping and sliding, and eventually they reached the muddy water. They could see a metal fence that looked as though it had been built as some kind of gateway. They got down on their hunkers and stayed close to it. Then it happened again.

  ‘Please! Somebody help me! I’m trapped! Help!’

  ‘Fuck! That’s Rosie.’

  Jonjo clambered down along the path of the water and pressed his face against the fence.

  ‘Rosie! Rosie Gilmour! Is that you?’

  Nothing.

  ‘Rosie! Is that you? It’s me! It’s Jonjo, Rosie!’

  Silence. Then a plaintive wail.

  ‘Jonjo! Yes. It’s me! Boag’s trapped me! Christ, Jonjo! Please get me out of here . . .’ The voice trailed off.

  ‘Rosie. Listen to me, sweetheart. Don’t worry. We’ll get you out. Just hang on. Try to keep calm. Can you remember what happened?’

  ‘A lock-up, then a pit, like a mechanic’s pit, he threw me in there. There was a trapdoor, and I went through thinking I could escape, but there’s a gate here and I can’t go any further. He came back and closed the door – a big concrete door, and I can’t get back in. I don’t know where he is. Hurry! There’s rats . . . and bits of dead bodies . . . Aw, Jesus! Hurry! And there’s water coming in.’

  ‘Bastard. Don’t worry, just hang fire. Don’t worry about the water. It’s only a little bit and it’s not flowing fast. Keep calm. We’ll get you out.’

  ‘What about Adrian? Is he all right?’

  Jonjo didn’t answer. He turned to Aldo. ‘You stay here, Aldo. Keep talking to her. Keep her calm. We’ll go back up and blast our way into that fucking lock-up.’

  They quickly climbed their way up the embankment and back to the lock-up where Adrian was standing leaning against the wall to take the weight off his leg. Geordie was standing by Jonjo’s car.

  ‘We found her, Adrian. She’s trapped in some kind of fucking tunnel that led from the lock-up.’

  Jonjo noticed Adrian’s eyes light up and suddenly he was off the wall and standing full stretch.

  ‘Is this lock-up, you think?’

  ‘I don’t know. But looks like it might be our best option.’

  ‘Let’s go.’

  ‘Stand back,’ Jonjo said.

  He turned to Danny and jerked his head towards the door. Danny blasted it with his gun and the padlock flew off.

  They pulled it open and went inside, blinking in the darkness. Jonjo glanced around the room in dismay at the bloodstained workbench, a discarded chainsaw . . . and body parts strewn on the floor.

  ‘Fuck me! What the fuck is this place! Christ almighty!’

  They stood over the pit.

  ‘It must be down here.’ He turned to Danny. ‘Get that ladder, Danny. I’m going down.’

  ‘I go.’ Adrian stepped forward.

  Jonjo stood up to him.

  ‘Not with that fucking leg, man. You wait here. I’m going down.’

  Then suddenly they heard Danny groan and they turned around to see his shocked expression as he fell to the floor. Behind them, Boag had stuck a knife between Danny’s shoulder blades. Then he pulled a gun and stood facing them, pointing at Danny’s head.

  ‘Are you the cavalry, by any chance? Bit late, boys. Why don’t you go back about your business before I have to put you on my workbench.’

  Jonjo felt a red-hot rage burn in him so fast that he could feel the room swimming. This was the cunt who butchered his only son. He was standing two feet away from him. One of his best mates was bleeding out on the floor, and he could do nothing. Fucking nothing. Just like he could do nothing for his son. His head felt like it was going to burst wide open. Then suddenly there was a gunshot, and he blinked, waiting for one of them to fall to the ground. But it was Boag who dropped, groaning, blood spouting from his side. Adrian stood with a small revolver in his hand. He limped towards him and pointed the gun to Boag’s head, kicking his gun out of his hand.

  ‘No!’ Jonjo said. ‘Leave him, Adrian! He’s mine. And he doesn’t get a bullet in the head. Leave him! I’m going to get Rosie. So you stay here with that fucker. And don’t do anything to him til I get here. Please promise me that, big man.’

  Adrian blinked in acknowledgement, and kept the gun to Boag’s head as he lay writhing.

  Jonjo dragged the ladder over and dropped it, securing it at the top of the pit. He climbed down with agility, glad of the training regime he’d kept up at the prison gym. Then he saw the trapdoor. He went across and grabbed the rope handle. It was heavy concrete and he dragged it across until it opened.

  ‘Rosie! Rosie! Where are you?’

  He pushed himself into the tunnel and moved along. Fucking rats and cockroaches everywhere. He froze as his hand touched a limb lying in the sludge. Christ almighty! What a fucking scheming nutter Boag was. He must have dug up the floor of the lock-up to build this death pit with a trapdoor leading nowhere. God knows how many people had been tortured and butchered in this dungeon, or how many body parts had ended up down here.

  ‘Rosie. It’s Jonjo.’

  ‘Here! I’m here!’

  He edged his way towards the voice. Then he saw her, the terror in her face – not the face he’d seen the first time he met her in the bar, with that swagger to her movement, her hair shimmering in the light. This was the face of someone waiting to die, pale, sunken eyes, panic. He barely recognised her. She was staring at him, but she wasn’t moving towards him.

  ‘Rosie. Listen, it’s me. It’s okay. Come on! We need to get out of here fast.’

  He moved towards her but she flinched.

  Then her face crumpled and she started to cry.

  ‘You’re all right, sweetheart. Come on. Hold my hand. You’re safe now. Come on. Hold on. We’re nearly there.’

  He crawled along as Rosie clutched his hand tight. He got to the door and pushed his way through, pulling her behind him. He pulled Rosie to her feet, took her by the shoulders and shook her.

  ‘Rosie. Listen. You’re safe now. But we need to get up this ladder. Only a few steps. Adrian’s up there. Come on. You go first. I’m right behind you.’

  She said nothing, but seemed to compose herself, sniffing as she took the bottom rung, gingerly balancing as he held the ladder. He watched as she climbed, her legs like jelly. She was halfway. Once she was at the top he saw her crawl and fall onto the ground. He took the steps one at a time, the ladder moving in the slime and water on the floor. The ladder slid, unsteady as he climbed, and he had to concentrate every step. The fact that Boag was sitting up there pushed him on with the scent of revenge. When he got to the top, Rosie was on her hands and knees, trying to get to her feet. He pulled her up. She looked at Adrian with the gun to Boag’s head. Her face suddenly turned red, and she hobbled across towards them. She kicked Boag in the face, knocking him on his back.

  ‘You bastard!’ she spat.

  ‘Come on, Rosie.’ Adrian grabbed her and pulled her towards him with one arm. ‘Sssh. It’s okay. You are safe now.’

  ‘Oh, God, Adrian! I thought you were dead.’

  She passed out.

  ‘How’s Danny?’ Jonjo said.

  ‘He needs a hospital. Lost a lot of blood. He needs a hospital, quick.’

  Jonjo looked at Geordie, still standing with his sawn-off shotgun.

  ‘Okay. Geordie, can you help take the
m to my car? I’ll deal with this piece of shit.’

  Adrian stood for a moment, then eased Rosie to her feet as she blinked and looked around.

  *

  Jonjo stood for a moment in the stillness. He scanned the room, wondering if any of the bloodied equipment had been used on his son. He looked at Boag – this evil bastard who had picked up his innocent laddie.

  ‘You don’t know me.’ Jonjo stood over Boag.

  He waited as Boag looked up and said nothing.

  ‘I’m Jack Mulhearn’s da. The boy you murdered. You cut my boy’s fucking head off, you evil cunt!’

  Boag lip curled somewhere between a snarl and a grin.

  ‘Oh, that boy. Sweet one, him!’

  Jonjo, in one seamless movement, reached into his sock and pulled out the razor. He made three lightning slashes in Boag’s face, opening up fine lines, oozing blood, covering his face in seconds. Boag grinned, blood running into his mouth.

  ‘All those people you killed. You would have been dead before the morning in Bar-L. You were never going to trial, you fucker.’

  Boag didn’t answer, just stared straight back at him.

  *

  Outside, Adrian and Geordie were helping Danny into the Range Rover, where Aldo was already in the driving seat. Rosie stood shivering, as Jonjo came towards them.

  ‘Thank you, Jonjo. You saved my life,’ she said through tears.

  ‘Come on. Let’s get you out of here.’ He took her arm and helped her into the back seat. ‘Listen. You need to make some calls. Police, whatever. I’m going to drop you somewhere, then I’m out of here. I can’t be seen anywhere near this. You understand?’

  ‘Yes. Neither can Adrian.’

  ‘Okay. We’ll drop you at the hospital gate. Make your phone calls.’

  Rosie took her phone and punched in McGuire’s number.

  ‘Mick. You need to help me.’

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Rosie was on the sofa in McGuire’s office as she recounted the past few hours of her ordeal, while he sat dumbfounded, at times shaking his head in disbelief. He’d sent Declan up to the Victoria Infirmary to pick her up when she’d insisted she was not staying in hospital, despite the doctor’s orders. The cuts from the machete and the knife were minor and only needed butterfly stitches up, and she had no other injuries apart from bruising to her face, as well as an angry bump on the side of her head. But the doctors were concerned she was suffering from severe shock. That was putting it mildly, Rosie had felt like telling the young medic. She’d be seeing that rat-infested tunnel in her nightmares for the rest of her life. They’d taken blood samples and given her a course of antibiotics because she’d been exposed to contaminated water, and she was told to come straight back at the first sign of illness, as there was a real risk of infection in her wounds. Declan had taken her to her flat where she stood in a steaming hot shower for ten minutes, scrubbing her body til it hurt, not really sure if any of this was real or if it was all part of one of her feverish nightmares. McGuire told her to take the day off and he’d come up to see her, but she couldn’t bear to be on her own. The only place that felt like home right now was the Post. But the tiredness was beginning to hit her, and she rubbed her face. McGuire sat looking at her, full of concern, but Rosie could see he was thinking ahead.

  ‘Jesus, Rosie. I honestly don’t know how you’re sitting here right now. But I’m thankful that you are.’ He shook his head and pushed out a sigh. ‘I know this isn’t the moment to give you a hard time, but did you really need to go after that psycho when you saw him at the funeral?’

  ‘It was instinct, Mick. Pure instinct. Adrian spotted him in the crowd and he was going himself, then without thinking I said I was going with him. But I did phone the cops. So I didn’t feel as if I was going straight into a dangerous situation by myself. The police were right behind us – until the bloody crash.’ Suddenly she stopped. ‘Shit! The crash. I need to phone Don again. I’ve tried to call his mobile but it’s going straight to answer machine. He must have been in the crash.’

  She thought she saw a flicker of something in McGuire’s eyes, but he started talking.

  ‘You should have stopped then. Turned back and left it to them.’

  ‘Adrian was going it alone if I did that. I had to be there. I know now it was reckless and I shouldn’t have done it, but I just acted on instinct.’

  McGuire made a steeple with his fingers as he sat forward.

  ‘We’ll need to work out what we tell the cops. From what Declan is hearing on the police grapevine, Boag wasn’t there by the time the cops arrived. So you’re going to be questioned very closely on that.’

  Rosie’s mind flashed back to the moment Adrian pulled her towards the Range Rover.

  ‘It all happened really quickly, once Jonjo got me out of that pit. But I can’t go telling the cops any of that – about Jonjo Mulhearn rescuing me. Because when I left, he was still with Boag. I mean he’s just out of jail. The very fact that he was involved in this would get him straight back in there. Look, I don’t give a monkey’s that he’s a career criminal just out of jail for murder. If he hadn’t come and got me, I’d be dead. Simple as that. I’m not sticking him in for anything.’

  McGuire spread his hands.

  ‘I understand that. I’d feel the same in your shoes. But we’re talking about the law here. You know what the police are like.’ He paused. ‘Did you actually see anything going on with Boag and Mulhearn?’

  Rosie took a moment to remember. Everything, all the bad things, would be etched in her mind for ever, but the last few moments were a blur.

  ‘Okay. Here’s what I can remember, and I’m telling you the truth. But I’ll not be saying this to the cops.’ She took a breath. ‘I was at the point of collapse when I got to the top and Adrian grabbed hold of me and then I was being pulled out of the lock-up. Jonjo was on the phone, and asking for someone to come to the place, and he told his mate to drive me to the Victoria. I heard him say they would take Danny somewhere. But I can only vaguely remember some guy lying with blood pouring out of him. I do remember Boag, though, his face staring at me. I’ll never forget that. But all I can tell the police is that my Bosnian friend was at the top of the pit with some others who I didn’t know or recognise, and then he pulled me away. He told me not to look back. I distinctly remember Adrian telling me that if I didn’t look back then I wouldn’t see anything, so if I was questioned on what I did see, I wouldn’t be lying.’

  ‘And did you look back?’ McGuire asked, his heavy eyebrows raised.

  Rosie puffed.

  ‘Well, yes.’

  ‘Christ! Why am I not surprised by that!’

  ‘I couldn’t help it. I just turned around for a moment.’

  ‘And what did you see?’

  ‘I heard Jonjo telling Boag who he was, that it was his son he butchered. Then Boag said something, but I don’t remember what. Then suddenly Jonjo slashed him. I mean, real expert stuff. Like criss-crosses all over his face – he’s obviously not new to slashing faces.’

  ‘You can’t tell the cops that without naming who the guy was.’

  ‘I can’t tell them anything, other than Boag was at the top of the pit, and there were some heavy-looking guys who I didn’t recognise.’

  ‘They’re going to ask you why they would be rescuing you. And you’re going to look like you’re lying through your teeth when you say you’ve no idea. Do you realise that?’

  ‘Yes. I know.’ She sighed. ‘But what else can I do?’

  The door opened and Hanlon came in, his stiff QC’s collar straight out of a High Court murder trial.

  ‘Fuck me, Rosie!’ He came across and bent to hug her. ‘I’ve heard all sorts of horror stories. Jesus Christ! Are you sure you’re still alive?’

  Rosie tried a smile.

  ‘Not really. I keep thinking I’m going to wake up in a cold sweat and it’s all a nightmare, and I’m actually dead. My head is all over the place.’

&nb
sp; McGuire interrupted. ‘Tom, as I was saying on the phone, the dilemma is what she’s going to say to the cops. They’ll be down here shortly, and she needs to get her story right.’

  He lifted the teapot and poured himself a cup.

  ‘You tell them fuck all, that’s what.’

  ‘But they’re going to want to know how she got there,’ McGuire said.

  ‘Yes, I know. That bit’s all right. You tell them exactly what happened, about following him. You can say this big Bosnian friend of yours was with you. Tell them everything right up until you get rescued. But that’s where you have to go all vague.’

  ‘I am a bit vague on it anyway.’

  Hanlon eyed her and smiled wryly.

  ‘Good. You’re doing well, Gilmour.’

  ‘No. Seriously.’

  ‘Right. The thing is, Boag is nowhere to be seen. So your big mate Jonjo, the superhero, must have arranged to take him somewhere so he could have his revenge.’

  Rosie nodded. ‘I think so. He could have killed him there and then and tossed him into the pit of water, then got off his mark. But he wanted to make him suffer.’

  ‘Well, that’s up to him,’ said Hanlon. ‘And I can’t say I blame him. If the cops aren’t as stupid as they look sometimes, they’d be wise just to let this disappear. Put it this way: there’s less chance of Boag doing a runner if he’s in the company of Jonjo Mulhearn than if he’s in police custody. He’s already proved that. I’d put my house on Boag being hacked to bits as we speak.’ He lifted a biscuit and broke it in half. ‘The cops won’t bust our arses over this – trust me.’

  ‘Do you know that for sure?’ McGuire asked.

  ‘No, not for sure. But I talked to one of the DIs on this murder trial I’m on, and he seems to have heard a lot of the story about Boag and you, and the fact that when the cops turned up he’s nowhere to be seen. The preliminary statement you gave to the cops at the hospital – about some guys being out there at the right time, is not bad. They’ll know it’s bullshit, but I’ll be surprised if they have you on any charge for it.’