by Kerry Kaya
“So,” Danny smiled. “Back to your question of what we want from you.” He nodded his head toward Moray, indicating for him to hold the man still. “For the time being, we want some information, and you, my little pig, are going to give it to us, whether you want to or not.”
In a silent scream, Gibbs pulled his lips over his teeth and opened his mouth wide. As the blowtorch inched closer, he was unable to hold back any longer, and his pain-filled screams, along with the scent of scorched flesh and hair, filled the desolate warehouse. All the while, Danny and Moray grinned happily.
* * *
Gary Carter strolled inside the scrapyard office. He flopped down onto the leather sofa and gave his brother a bright smile. “I’ve sorted out the transport; got us a transit van.”
“Where’d you get it from?” Jimmy eyed him warily. He couldn’t put his finger on the reason why, he just knew for a fact that he didn’t trust Gary as far as he could throw him.
Gary narrowed his eyes. “Got it from a mate of mine.”
“What mate?”
“Just a mate. What’s with all the questions?”
“No reason.” Jimmy shrugged his shoulders and resumed reading through the accounts. Every now and again, he lifted his eyes to look across at his brother. Finally, he leaned backwards in the chair and massaged his temples. “Have you given this van the once over?”
“Of course I fucking have, what do you take me for?”
Jimmy remained silent.
“Well?” Gary demanded. “I don’t hear you asking anyone else questions, so what are you questioning me for?” He sat forward in his seat and gave his brother a cold stare. “Well, come on, I’m waiting; don’t you trust me or something?”
Jimmy sighed. He could hardly tell Gary the truth and tell him that he’d just hit the proverbial nail on the head. “I’m just checking so there are no fuck-ups, that’s all. We’ve got less than a week to go until the job, and we can’t get this wrong.”
“Why would there be any fuck-ups?” Gary gave a nonchalant shrug of his shoulders.
“Because, we’re not Tommy. We don’t have his acute mind for planning out a job, do we?”
Gary rolled his eyes. Here we go again, he thought to himself. The big I am fucking wonderful, Tommy. “Yeah, well, it’s down to you and me now, ain’t it, bruv? And trust me …,” he turned to look at Jimmy, barely able to keep the smug grin from his face, “… everything is going to go to plan.”
Unaware of Gary’s treacherous scheming, Jimmy nodded his head. “It had better do.”
“It will,” Gary grinned. “I’m gonna make sure of it.”
* * *
Rinsing two coffee mugs underneath the tap, Stacey heard her mother-in-law give a long sigh. “What’s wrong?” she asked, turning her head to look across at Janet.
Janet sighed once more and sat down heavily at the oak table. “Tell me the truth, Stace, have I been wrong?”
“About what?” Confused, Stacey shook her head. She dried her hands on a tea towel and joined her mother-in-law at the table.
Wearily, Janet answered. She knew she was treading on dangerous ground, but she had to get it off of her chest. “Have I been wrong in not seeing the boy, Cameron?” She watched Stacey’s eyebrows shoot up and continued. “What lady muck said the other day about me not seeing him … she was right, he’s my own flesh and blood, Stace, my second eldest grandson, and I’ve not given him a second thought over the years. Was that wrong of me?” she implored.
Stacey took her time in answering. She clasped hold of her mother-in-law’s hand in hers. “It wasn’t an easy situation. That woman,” she said, referring to Bethany Johnson, “nearly destroyed this family.”
“Oh, I know that.” Janet flapped her free hand dismissively. Still, this knowledge did nothing to erase her guilt. “Maybe I should have made more of an effort. He must be, what, eighteen now? And I’ve never clapped my eyes on him. I’ve not even seen a photograph of the boy. He could pass me by in the street and I wouldn’t even know who he is.”
“He would be twenty now.”
“Twenty?” Janet’s eyes widened. “Well, I never.” She looked into the distance. “What a wicked woman I am. No wonder Gary is so bitter. My own son, and not once have I given his only child the time of day.”
Pursing her lips together, Stacey squeezed her eyes shut tight. “You have met him, Janet,” she said softly. “In fact, I can remember you saying he could charm the birds from the tree.” She gave a bitter laugh. “He charmed us all. Well, apart from Tommy, that is. He wasn’t so keen; he saw through the lies.”
Janet narrowed her eyes. “What do you mean, I’ve met him? When?”
It was now or never, and Stacey took a deep breath before answering. “We knew him as Jack, Karen’s boyfriend, Jack. But it was all a lie. His real name is Cameron, the son of Bethany and Gary.”
“What?” Janet’s mind began to reel. “Not that lovely young man she brought to my birthday party?”
“The very same.”
Janet’s mouth fell open. “Well, I never,” was all that she was able to utter.
* * *
“Dad.” Seeing his father pull onto the drive, Cameron had stepped out of the house, hoping to get him on his own for a few minutes.
Despite being in a foul mood, all thanks to Jimmy and his constant questions, Gary gave his son a wide smile as he climbed out of his highly polished silver Mercedes. “You okay, Son?”
“No.” Cameron shook his head. He shoved his hands into the pockets of his denim jeans and glanced over his shoulder, checking that his mother wasn’t within earshot before speaking. “No, I’m not all right, Dad.”
Locking his car door, Gary frowned as he turned back to look at his son. “What’s up?”
“It’s this plan you and Mum have made. I don’t like it.” He came to stand in front of his father, in a bid to stop him from dismissing him and walking away. “Don’t hurt Karen, please, Dad,” he begged. “She’s innocent in all of this.”
His expression becoming serious, Gary took a side step, moving out of his son’s way. “Forget about her; she’s nothing to you.”
“Please, Dad,” Cameron said as he pulled on his father’s arm.
“If your mum ever heard you speaking like this, then there’d be hell to pay,” Gary warned as he rounded on his only child. He looked across to the house, checking that Bethany couldn’t hear their conversation. “Maybe she was right after all. We allowed you to get in too deep. We should have pulled you out earlier.”
Cameron swallowed deeply. He could see he was going to get nowhere with his father. His mum, as always, had him wrapped around her little finger. “Please, Dad,” he said standing his ground. “Deep down, you must know that this isn’t right. What you are planning is wrong.”
Gary made to walk away.
“What has she ever done to hurt you, eh?” He pulled on his father’s arm a second time. “She’s your niece for fuck’s sake, Dad.”
About to push past his son, Gary was barely able to keep his temper in check. His face contorted with rage as he spoke in a low growl. “She’s that cunt Tommy’s offspring. That’s enough of a reason for me to want her dead.”
“Dad!” Cameron’s mouth fell open.
Puffing out his cheeks, Gary brought his hands up to his head. He could feel his blood begin to boil. As always, the mere mention of his brother’s name made him feel both angry and agitated.
“Just do as you’re told, Cam, and forget about her,” he spat as he made his way toward the house. Nearing the front door, he spun around. “Why are you getting yourself so het up about a bird for anyway? Besides, what’s that old saying?” He paused as if thinking, then looked into the distance and gave a maddening grin. “That’s it,” he said stabbing his finger forward. “There’s plenty more fish in the sea. Remember that, Son.”
Left standing on the driveway, Cameron glared at his father’s retreating back. His dad was a fine one to talk about gettin
g het up over a bird. He’d seen the way he fawned all over his mum. It wasn’t only pathetic, it was embarrassing. And if truth were told, she wasn’t even that interested in him.
He pushed his hands deeper into his denim pockets. How was he supposed to just forget about Karen? At least what they’d had was real. Well, to a certain degree, anyway. Unlike his parents’ one-sided relationship.
He scowled as he slowly followed his father inside the house. He should have known his dad wouldn’t help. Both he and his mum were as bad as each other. He sighed as he closed the front door behind him. He could hear his parents talking in the lounge, and he begrudgingly followed their voices. He’d never felt more alone than he did right now.
* * *
Marcus Gibbs’s hands were bruised, swollen, smeared with blood, and trembling as he passed the mobile phone back to Danny.
“See, that wasn’t so difficult, was it?”
Marcus remained silent. He was afraid of giving the wrong answer and didn’t wish to say anything that could anger the men any further than was necessary. He bit down hard on his bottom lip, in a bid to stop himself from crying out for mercy. Instinctively, he knew his pleas would fall upon deaf ears.
Much to his relief, they had untied him, and he rubbed at the red welts across his wrists, where the tight bindings had dug into his flesh. Already forming across his spindly torso were a series of large painful blood, pus, and plasma-filled blisters.
Scorched hair and skin filled his nostrils. No matter which way he moved his body, he was unable to relieve himself of the pain he felt from the burns. He wrapped his skinny arms around his bare legs, as he watched the men tidy away their torturous weapons, hoping and praying that his ordeal was coming to an end.
Over and over in his mind, he relived the fact that he had just used his police powers to give them information, and he had a sinking feeling they were not finished with him yet. In fact, as they had stated, he was well and truly in their pocket now. The very thought was enough to make him want to weep.
“Get dressed.”
They threw his clothes toward him, and he scrambled forward to retrieve his shirt and trousers. Ignoring the pain that ripped through him, he slowly began to dress himself. Pushing his arm into his shirt sleeve, he took an intake of breath, then shrugged the cotton material across his blistered back. Gingerly, he gritted his teeth as he snaked his remaining arm into the second sleeve. His fingers fumbled with the shirt buttons. The pain that shuddered through him, made his hands involuntarily shake.
They strode toward him and he cowered backwards, crying out in fear, as they began to manhandle him. He sucked in his breath as they yanked the heavy sack over his head and pushed him forward. Thrusting his arms out in front of him, he desperately clawed at the air, terrified that he would fall to the floor.
Flanked on either side, they gripped hold of his upper arms and dragged him forward. He could hear the car door opening, and he groaned in pain as they bundled him across the back seat. He pulled himself into a sitting position, kept his head down low, and took deep breaths to steady the sickness that rose within him. His body was slick from the cold sweat that spread out of his pores, whilst his thin frame took the impact of each and every bump in the road.
They travelled in silence. Finally, the car came to a shuddering halt and he blinked rapidly as the sack was pulled from over his head. Much to his relief, he could see they had returned to where his ordeal had begun, on Maddox Street.
“So, this is how it’s going to be.” It was Danny who spoke, and his voice was gruff and menacing. “From now on, when we say jump, you ask how high.” He stabbed his finger forward. “In other words, when we want something, you deliver. Are we understood on that?”
Marcus hesitated.
The hand that shot out and grabbed him around his throat, had him crying out in fear. “Yes, yes,” he cried. “I’ll do anything you want.”
“Good, well, go on then.” Danny nodded toward the car door. “Fuck off.”
He had barely made it onto the pavement when the car sped away from the kerb. Battered, burned, bruised, and terrified, Marcus hobbled along the street to his own car. He pushed his shaking hand into his trousers pocket and retrieved his car keys. With great difficulty, he slid the key into the lock and opened the car door.
Gingerly, he slid his body onto the driver’s seat. Pulling the car door closed, he then promptly brought his hands up to his face and began to sob. They had done him over like a kipper and caught him bang to rights. He began to sob even harder. The worst part of it all was that he had no one to blame, but himself.
* * *
“There you go, mate.”
Jimmy stared down at the scrap of paper Danny had placed onto the desk in front of him. “What this?” he asked.
“The last known address of where your niece used her bank card.”
“You’re joking?” He snatched up the paper and studied it. “So Gibbs actually came through with the goods then?”
“Well, let’s put it this way, he needed a bit of persuading.” He let out a chuckle, then nodded down at the paper. “Her last known whereabouts were in Liverpool.”
“Liverpool?” Jimmy’s mouth fell open. “What the fuck is she doing in Liverpool?”
“Beats me.” They were in the scrapyard office and he sat down on the battered leather sofa and kicked out his legs in front of him, as he eyed Jimmy across the desk. “Listen, mate, I might be speaking out of turn here, but maybe you should be asking yourself why she’s gone so far away?”
“I know.” Jimmy sighed and tossed the scrap of paper onto the desk. “Looks like she definitely wanted to get away from all of us, doesn’t it? She couldn’t have gone any farther away if she tried.”
Danny nodded his head. He chewed on his thumbnail, watching Jimmy’s reaction closely. “The thing is …” He paused. “As I just said, maybe you need to ask yourself the reason why she’s gone so far?”
“What d’ya mean?” Jimmy narrowed his eyes.
“I dunno, I’m just trying to help you out, mate. You know what I’m like. I’m putting two and two together and coming up with five.” He gave a small smile, not taking his eyes away from the man.
“Go on.” Jimmy sat forward in the chair. “You’ve obviously got something on your mind.”
“Yeah.” He gave a small inclination of his head. “I can’t help but wonder something. You said her and Tommy were tight.”
“They are, were,” Jimmy corrected.
Pulling in his legs, Danny rested his forearms on his knees and leaned forward. “Then don’t you find it strange, the day he is murdered, that she suddenly disappears into thin air?”
“She’s not involved, if that’s what you’re thinking. Despite their differences, toward the end, she loved her old man, was a real Daddy’s girl.”
Danny shook his head. “I’m not suggesting she was involved, mate.” He raised his eyebrows as he looked across the desk. “I can’t help but wonder what it is she’s running away from … who she is running away from.” He leaned back on the sofa, making himself comfortable once more, and nodded his head in Jimmy’s direction. “I think she knows something, mate, and someone has got her running scared.”
“No.” Jimmy’s mouth fell open. He glanced down at the scrap of paper and studied the address. Danny had him thinking all right, and he slumped backwards in the chair. How the fuck had he not seen it earlier? How many times had he said his niece disappearing was out of character? He rubbed his hand over his face, then looked across the desk. “I think you’re right. I need to find her.”
* * *
That evening, Jimmy strode into the Volunteer public house, hoping to find one of his brothers. He’d already searched the Short Blue, and the Hope, and with none of them answering their mobile phones, as a last resort, he’d pulled up outside the Volunteer. Situated on the corner of Thames Road and the A13, it was a large pub and had been one of their many stomping grounds when they were younger.
It didn’t take him long to spot his youngest brother, Jonny. Sitting at a corner table, a semi-clad blonde had draped herself across his lap. He moved forward and stopped in front of the table. “Can I have a word?”
Jonny looked up and grinned. “This here,” he said to the blonde, “is me brother, Jimmy.”
Nikki Harrison rubbed her glossed lips together. It must be her lucky day, she thought to herself. Not only did the Carter brothers have a reputation, they were also loaded. A wide smile creased her face. Why stop at one brother, when she could have two? “Nikki,” she said, stretching out her manicured hand. Feeling a little tipsy, she nodded across to the bar and gave a cheeky grin. “Come and join our little party. I’ll have a white wine and soda, please.”
Jimmy ignored the outstretched hand and glared at his brother. “I said, can I have a word?” he snapped, his tone loud and harsh.
“I should have mentioned you’re not me brother’s type, if you know what I mean,” Jonny winked. Tipping the blonde from his lap, he delved his hand into his trousers pocket and pulled out a ten-pound note. “Go and get us all a drink,” he said. As she made her way toward the bar, he playfully slapped her backside. “So, what’s so important?” he asked, tearing his eyes away from her retreating back to look at his elder brother.
“I’ve been calling you.”
“And I’ve been busy,” Jonny grinned.
“Yeah, I can see that.” He placed his palms down on the sticky table, leaned forward, and lowered his voice to a low growl. “In the future, when I call you, make sure that you answer your phone.”
“All right, keep your fucking hair on. I was only joking.”
