The Sting

by Kimberley Chambers

  Picking up the dismembered penis, Tommy had great pleasure in ramming it down the back of his dead uncle’s throat. ‘Rot in hell, nonce-case.’

  Checking around the flat for anything that might incriminate him, Tommy was satisfied there was nothing. He picked up his bags, pulled up the hood of his tracksuit and quietly let himself out of the flat.

  He knew his next destination. He was off to Kent to meet his son.

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  Tommy showered, then got dressed in a white Fred Perry polo shirt, dark Levi jeans and beige desert boots.

  Having made himself a cup of tea, Tommy put the TV on. After leaving Barking yesterday, he’d driven straight to Kent. He’d burned the tracksuit and trainers in a field, then booked into a hotel for the night. Rather than use his real name, he’d signed in as Tom Smith.

  There was no mention on the news of his uncle’s murder, which didn’t surprise Tommy. He doubted Ian had many visitors and reckoned it might be a while before his body was found. Perhaps the Irish barmaid in the pub would alert the police? Or the postman would notice a bad smell drifting through the letterbox? Whatever the outcome, good riddance to bad rubbish. Tommy had no regrets.

  Taking one last glance around to make sure he’d left nothing, Tommy turned off the TV and picked up both sports bags. He’d grab some breakfast on the way.

  ‘Did you enjoy your stay, sir?’ asked the receptionist.

  ‘Yes, thanks.’

  ‘Any plans for today? The weather is meant to be gorgeous.’

  Tommy smiled. ‘Yes. I’m going to pick my son up.’

  Scratch arrived back at the flat around noon. ‘Has Tommy called?’ she asked Sam.

  ‘No. Although I haven’t been home long myself. No messages on the answerphone. How did your house-hunting go?’

  ‘Yeah, good. We finally found somewhere we both like,’ Scratch grinned. It had been lovely spending the day and night with Jay. They’d gone for a romantic evening meal. Then made love until the early hours of the morning.

  ‘What’s it like then? Which area?’

  ‘Broxbourne, Hertfordshire. It’s really nice, Sam. Three bedrooms, detached, decent-size garden and the kitchen’s big. The neighbours seem nice too. Lovely couple next door – we got chatting to them.’

  ‘Sounds perfect. You put a bid in?’

  ‘Jay’s going to tomorrow. Right, I need to get my head back into work mode. What shall we cook for Tommy?’

  Sam chuckled. ‘You mean what should you cook for Tommy. He’s your guest and ex-lover, not mine.’

  ‘Bitch.’

  Having already read the News of the World, Tommy flicked through the Sunday Mirror. The news lately was always the same old, same old. Thatcher had called an election in June and politics bored Tommy rigid.

  Another headline was about wheel clamps being introduced in London. Tommy turned to the sports pages. Manchester United were playing Brighton in the Cup Final next weekend, but Tommy had little interest in football any more. He had little interest in anything at all these days.

  He sipped his can of Coke and watched the house for a while. Over three hours he’d been parked here now and in all that time he hadn’t seen any movement.

  It was a nice house in a nice street. Young children were playing outside. It had a safe feel to it. Obviously, Tommy had no idea whether Mikey was allowed out alone. But if he wasn’t, he was determined to snatch the boy anyway. He’d threaten the parents with his gun if need be, or tie the bastards up. He was hoping he would get the kid alone though. That would give him more time with him.

  When a couple who’d walked past earlier paused to stare suspiciously at him, Tommy debated whether to park elsewhere. He hadn’t wanted to sit right outside the house Mikey lived in, so had parked up on a corner opposite. He’d had two sets of false registration plates made up after going back home the other day. One set was already on the car and he would swap with the other set after grabbing Mikey. That should throw the police or any nosy bastards off the scent.

  Thinking back to the past, Tommy felt a pang in his heart. He could remember the first day Scratch had arrived at Maylands as though it were yesterday. How the hell could a shop-lifting skinhead end up joining the police force? It beggared belief. As for fitting him up, that hurt like fuck. He wasn’t just anybody. He was the lad who’d poured his heart out to her, the one she’d lost her virginity to, the father of her child. She must have no conscience whatsoever.

  Tommy sat bolt upright. His son was walking up the path with a football under his arm. The boy walked up next door’s path and knocked on the door. Tommy doubted anyone was in, as he’d seen two adults and three boys go out earlier.

  Getting no answer, Mikey walked down the road, alone. Tommy turned his ignition key. This was perfect.

  ‘Hey, Mikey. Can I talk to you for a minute?’

  Heading for the small park down the bottom of his road, Mikey spun around. ‘I’m not allowed to talk to strangers.’

  ‘But I’m not a stranger. Look, I’m a friend of Scratch’s.’ Tommy held out some photographs that Mikey warily took.

  ‘We’re not allowed to call her Scratch any more. We must call her Kim now.’

  ‘Kim then,’ Tommy smiled, thinking how well spoken the boy was. Looking at him up close melted Tommy’s heart. Mikey very much resembled himself at the same age. ‘What football team do you support?’

  ‘Liverpool.’

  ‘Don’t tell me, let me guess. I bet Ian Rush is your favourite player.’

  Mikey’s eyes widened. ‘How did you know that?’

  ‘Because he’s the best.’

  ‘What team do you support?’

  ‘Millwall.’

  Mikey turned up his cute little nose that had a sprinkling of freckles across it. ‘Millwall aren’t as good as Liverpool.’

  Tommy chuckled. ‘Yeah, I know.’ He sank to his haunches. ‘Will you come for a drive with me, Mikey? I promise I’m not going to hurt you.’

  Mikey shook his head and fearfully stepped backwards. ‘No. My dad says I’m never to get into a stranger’s car.’

  ‘But I’m no stranger. Keith isn’t your real dad, Mikey. I am.’

  As the terrified lad began to run, Tommy chased after him, lifted him off his feet, then bundled him inside the boot of his car.

  ‘Whey-hey,’ laughed Ronnie Darling as their thick new employee mixed up another cocktail. Dave actually wasn’t a bad barman and the regulars had already taken to him. Naturally a few took the piss out of him, but that was to be expected.

  Dumbo handed the cocktail to Ronnie. ‘Taste that. Tell me what you think.’

  Ronnie sipped the drink. ‘Not bad. What we calling this one?’ They had little demand for cocktails, but it was fun getting Dave at it.

  ‘Dave’s Delight,’ grinned Dumbo.

  ‘Dave, ’ere a minute,’ shouted Danny. There was still no word from Tommy, even though he’d obviously picked up his letter as it was gone. Danny was worried. He could understand Tommy being upset, but he’d never gone AWOL before.

  ‘What’s up, Dan?’

  ‘Do you know where Tommy’s sister Linda lives?’

  ‘Clacton.’

  ‘Yeah, I know that. But whereabouts in Clacton?’

  ‘By the seaside.’

  Danny rolled his eyes. ‘OK, thanks.’

  Tommy pulled over by some garages and opened the boot. Mikey was understandably hysterical. It broke Tommy’s heart to tie his son’s ankles together, his hands behind his back, and lay him along the back seat like a small roll of carpet. He had little choice though, not until the lad calmed down. Tommy secured the seat belts, so Mikey couldn’t fall off. ‘I’m not gonna hurt you, boy. I promise you that faithfully.’

  ‘I want my mum and dad. I have to be home for my dinner at three,’ Mikey sobbed.

  ‘I’ll get you something to eat. No shouting now,’ Tommy ordered as he quickly changed the registration plates.

  Tommy kept a picnic blanket i
n the boot of his car, so chucked that over Mikey in case other motorists spotted the lad was tied up. Then he leapt back in the driver’s seat and headed towards Clacton.

  ‘What we going to watch now?’ Scratch asked Sam. They’d just caught up with their favourite programme, The Sweeney.

  ‘We’ve got Minder on tape. Let’s watch that, eh?’

  ‘OK. I don’t know about you, but I can’t be arsed going out for a pizza later. Shall we order a takeaway instead?’

  ‘Fine by me.’ It was rare the two of them got a day off together where they could laze around watching TV and doing little else.

  When the phone rang, Scratch leapt up to answer it. ‘Hi, Tommy. You all right? I’m looking forward to tomorrow. Do you like spaghetti bolognaise?’

  Tommy had turned off the A12 to find a phone box in a quiet spot. He didn’t want to pull up in a service station with Mikey tied up in the back. ‘You can stop with the bullshit, Kim Regan. I know everything.’

  Scratch’s face drained of colour. Her heart raced and her hands shook.

  Sensing something was seriously wrong, Sam stared at her pal in horror. What’s up? she mouthed.

  Scratch was so taken aback, for once she couldn’t think of anything to say.

  ‘Right, listen to me and listen very carefully. You know our son who you forgot to tell me existed? Well, he’s sitting in my car as we speak. Now, I don’t intend to hurt him or run away with him. All I ask is to be allowed to spend a few days with him. You owe me that much at least.’

  Scratch couldn’t believe what was happening. How the hell had Tommy found out about Mikey? ‘Where are you, Tommy? You can’t just take Mikey. His parents will be beside themselves and you’ll get into terrible trouble.’

  ‘Very funny. As if you weren’t trying to fit me up and put me inside anyway. Wired for sound was it, your flat? How could you do that to me? I trusted you, you slippery slag.’

  ‘Tommy, I’m sorry. But it’s not what you think. You’re not in any trouble, I promise. But you will be if you hold Mikey hostage. Tell me where you are and I’ll meet you. We can chat properly then. I’ll explain everything to you.’

  ‘I’m calling the fucking shots ’ere, not you,’ Tommy spat. ‘Holding him hostage. Don’t make me laugh. He’s my fucking son. I’ve every right to get to know him.’

  ‘You can’t snatch him. He doesn’t even know you.’

  ‘Well, he fucking does now. I ain’t lying to the lad. I’ve told him the truth. So best you keep his so-called parents off my back. Same goes for your pig colleagues. Because I’m telling ya now, Scratch, Rosie, Kim, or whatever your cunting name is today. If you send a search party out for me, I swear on my life, I will kill Mikey. A couple of days, perhaps three, that’s all I’m asking for, then you can come and collect the lad. Stay by your phone. I’ll be in touch again tomorrow – and don’t even think about tracing my calls, as I meant every word I said. Understand?’

  ‘Yes,’ Kim mumbled. ‘Tommy, can I—’

  Scratch didn’t get to finish her sentence. Tommy had already hung up.

  By the time Tommy reached Clacton, Mikey had sobbed himself to sleep.

  Tommy parked in a remote spot, not far from where his sister lived, and gently woke his son. He untied his hands and ankles and held him close to his chest. ‘I rang Kim. She’s going to let Caroline and Keith know where you are, so they won’t be worried. Kim said it was all right for us to spend a couple of days together, then she’ll pick you up and take you back home,’ he lied.

  Mikey’s lip trembled. ‘I want my mummy.’

  ‘Caroline isn’t your mum, Mikey. Not your real mum. Kim is. Now I know this must be difficult for you to understand, but it’s the truth. Kim is your real mum and I am your real dad.’

  Six-year-old Mikey didn’t understand, so said nothing.

  ‘So, what do you fancy doing? Shall we get something to eat then go to the beach? We can play football and have a paddle in the sea. Then we can get an ice-cream. How does that sound?’

  Not knowing what else to do, a confused Mikey nodded.

  Kim paced up and down. Scratch was no more. She never wanted to hear or be referred to by her old nickname again. She must’ve been mad even contemplating bringing Scratch back to life. Now she was paying the price. She had royally fucked up, that was for sure.

  ‘You’ve got to tell Hunter,’ Sam insisted.

  ‘How many more times? No, Sam,’ Kim snapped.

  ‘Tell SO10 then.’

  ‘No. We need to deal with this. Just you and I.’

  ‘We can’t. A young child has been snatched. We’ll both lose our fucking jobs if we don’t follow the correct procedure.’ Sam was completely thrown by Kim’s behaviour since Tommy’s phone call.

  ‘Pass me the phone. I need to speak to Caroline. If she wants Mikey back safe and sound, then she’s gonna have to trust me.’

  ‘I doubt she’s gonna see it that way. Caroline’s bound to lose the plot. What mother wouldn’t?’

  Kim picked up the plant pot with the hidden camera inside and slung it against the wall. If only she could turn the bloody clock back. ‘Caroline isn’t Mikey’s real mum. I am.’

  ‘You what!’

  ‘It’s true. Mikey’s my son and Tommy is his father.’

  ‘No way! Does Hunter know this?’

  ‘No. Of course he doesn’t. Nobody knows. Not even Jay.’

  ‘For fuck’s sake, Kim. You don’t do things by halves, do you, girl?’

  ‘Now you know why I didn’t want to get involved in this case. But thanks to you opening your big trap, my son has been kidnapped. Well done, Sam. Fucking great work, love.’

  Mikey munched on a hamburger as Tommy tried to clarify the situation by using language that a six-year-old might understand. The lad had stopped crying, thankfully, and seemed willing to listen.

  ‘Do I have to call you Dad too?’ Mikey enquired.

  ‘Not if you don’t want to. You can call me Tommy if you like. Kim, your real mum, was very young when she gave birth to you. She and I grew up in a children’s home together and sort of became boyfriend and girlfriend,’ Tommy explained, handing Mikey some more photos as proof.

  ‘Is that Kim?’ Mikey asked, pointing at the framed photo Scratch had given him when he left Maylands.

  ‘Yeah. Not long after that was taken, Scratch – sorry, I mean Kim, fell pregnant with you. She never told me about you, Mikey. We lost contact. We were only teenagers ourselves. That’s why she found you another mummy and daddy. Which means you’re a special boy really. Not many lads have two mums and two dads who love ’em dearly.’

  For the first time that day, Mikey actually smiled. ‘Can I have an ice-cream now, please?’

  Tommy held his son’s hand and stood up. ‘You can have whatever you want, boy.’

  ‘Well?’ Sam asked Kim.

  ‘Caroline was understandably hysterical. But she’s agreed to let me deal with the situation.’

  ‘And Keith?’

  ‘Playing golf, thank God. She isn’t going to tell him. As far as Keith is concerned, Mikey is staying with me for a few days.’

  ‘Surely Keith will smell a rat? Shouldn’t Mikey be at school tomorrow?’

  ‘Caroline is going to tell him I’ve taken Mikey to a holiday camp with you. Keith knows I get little time off work and I rarely get to spend time with Mikey. What can he say?’

  Sam shrugged. She’d heard Kim admit they’d been working undercover to Caroline and she was worried. She’d grafted so hard to get as far as she had in the police force. No way was she risking losing her job. ‘I’m sorry, mate. But you’re on your own with this one. Best you tell Hunter that Tommy has blown out dinner tomorrow and I’m staying at my girlfriend’s until we hear from him again. As much as I love you, I can’t be ballsing up my career. It means too much to me.’

  Kim was disappointed. ‘Cheers, pal. This is all your fault and now you want to bail out on me. Go on then, fuck off.’

  ‘Thi
rty-one, thirty-two, thirty-three,’ Tommy counted. Mikey was doing keepy-uppies with his football and Tommy was stunned by how good he was for his age. Robbie couldn’t do them and he and Mikey were close in age.

  ‘Ah, dropped it,’ Mikey said, as he finally lost control of the ball.

  Tommy clapped wildly. ‘That was brilliant, boy. You’re gonna be a professional footballer one day.’

  ‘Do you think I might be as good as Ian Rush?’

  ‘Better. You’ve either got it or you haven’t – and you’ve definitely got it.’

  Mikey planted himself next to Tommy on the sand. He had been truly scared earlier when he was tied up, but he didn’t feel scared any more. His other dad Keith didn’t like football. He only liked cricket and golf. ‘Can we get a fishing net and go fishing in the sea?’

  Tommy smiled. ‘Of course we can. But first we’re gonna ring Linda. She’s your real auntie.’

  Mikey didn’t reply. He was confused again now.

  After Sam left the flat, Kim paged Hunter to inform him she thought she had food poisoning as she was spewing up and shitting through the eye of a needle. Hunter only understood things that were written or said in his own foul language.

  When Hunter messaged back immediately, asking if Tommy was still coming around tomorrow, Kim said she’d have to postpone the date until she felt better. She then rang Jay from the landline and told him the same lie. This was her problem and she knew Tommy better than anybody. But it broke her heart to think how upset and confused Mikey must be right now. Once again she cursed herself for agreeing to be part of Operation Sting in the first place.

  Where had Tommy taken Mikey, she wondered. He’d mentioned his sister lived in Clacton. Had he headed there? All she could do was wait by the phone as he’d told her to. Surely Tommy wouldn’t hurt his own son? But he obviously wasn’t thinking straight to have abducted Mikey in the first place. Very few people knew the truth about Mikey, so how Tommy had found out was a mystery.

  As requested, Linda met Tommy alone at the beach. Tommy briefly explained about Robbie and the fallout with the Darlings, then pointed at the small lad who was paddling with a fishing net. ‘That’s my real son, Mikey.’