Scorned

by Kerry Kaya

  Finally, the tears subsided. She gave little hiccups as she tried to get her breath back. Her face was red, and her nose running. Jimmy handed across a tissue. “Talk to me, Kal,” he pleaded. He watched her delicately blow her nose. “Do you know about your dad?”

  She nodded her head, and her eyes filled with tears once more.

  “Do you know what happened to him?”

  A flicker of fear spread across her face, and she recoiled away from him. He closed his own eyes briefly and swallowed deeply before asking the one burning question that was at the forefront of his mind. “Do you know who shot him?” He studied her face.

  Karen hesitated.

  “I think that you know who it was.”

  Her long hair flew out from side to side as she vigorously shook her head.

  “This is really important, Kal,” Jimmy changed tact. “I need to know who it was who hurt your dad. Do you know who shot him?”

  She hesitated once more, then ever so slowly nodded her head.

  His breath caught in his throat. He could feel a wave of euphoria spread through him; he was so close to finding out the truth. “You don’t have to be scared. Tell me who it was, darling.”

  She remained silent, too afraid to say the name out loud.

  “Tell me who it was, Kal.”

  She opened her mouth to speak.

  “Who was it?” he gently coaxed.

  “Uncle Gary.”

  “Uncle Gary?” Jimmy pushed himself backwards, stunned by her answer. “No.” He began to laugh. Even to his own ears, it sounded higher than usual. “No darling, your Uncle Gary is the hero. He was the one who phoned for the ambulance.”

  She shook her head.

  Jimmy narrowed his eyes. “What do you mean, no?”

  “It was me,” she swallowed deeply, her voice hoarse from the tears she had shed.

  Jimmy froze. “What do you mean, it was you?”

  With wide eyes, Karen looked up at him. “It was me who phoned for the ambulance.”

  He took a sharp intake of breath, barely able to get his head around this turn of events. Of all the things he had expected her to say, her accusing Gary was not one of them. A flow of anger began to spread within him. His expression had turned to a snarl, and his voice was low as he spoke. “I think you’d better tell me everything, from the beginning.”

  Chapter 20

  Just like his mother before him, Marco was a coward, through and through. He staggered to his feet and clutched at his aching stomach. Taking one last look at the door to Karen’s room, he sped away from the scene of his crime. In his haste to escape, he barged his way down the dimly lit corridor, shoving the last few remaining residents, who had come out of their rooms to see what the commotion was all about, out of his way.

  Flinging open the front door, he made his way down the uneven pathway onto the pavement. From there, he continued to half walk and half jog, as he made his way through the dark streets, moving as fast as his heavy frame would allow him to.

  His chest heaved painfully with every step he took. The fear he felt caused his throat to restrict. He swallowed heavily, gasping to catch his breath. He was almost home. He looked over his shoulder, and noting that his attacker wasn’t following, he slowed down his pace.

  On top of his aching stomach, he had a stitch in his side, and he clasped his hand across his tummy, hoping it would ease the pain. Finally, he came to a halt in front of the café, and falling backwards against the metal shutter, he began to take deep, heavy breaths.

  He’d had a narrow escape and was only thankful for the hood he had pulled down over his head. In fact, he highly doubted that anyone would even be able to recognise him. A smile crept slowly across his face, and flinging his head backwards, he began to laugh. He wasn’t finished with the little Cockney girl; she would still get what was coming to her.

  Pushing himself away from the shutter, he made his way around to the back of the shops. From there, he could access the flats, and climbing a metal outside staircase, he reached the top step. Taking one last glance around him, he slipped his key into the lock and pushed open the front door. The scent of chip fat hit his nostrils, and he rubbed at his tummy, feeling suddenly hungry.

  “Marco?” Maria’s shrill voice rang out. “Where have you been?”

  He made his way down the brightly lit hallway, bypassing supplies for the café stacked high along the wall in cardboard boxes. “Out,” he answered.

  He entered the cluttered lounge, flopped down onto the heavily stained and worn sofa, and kicked off his trainers. The stench from his sweaty feet was over powering, not that he or his mother appeared to notice. Sat in front of the television with the fire on full blast, Maria narrowed her eyes as she turned to face him.

  “Where’ve you been?”

  “Out.”

  “Out where?”

  “Just out.” Picking up the remote control, he switched the channel.

  “Oi, I was watching that.” She snatched the control back from him and flicked through the channels. “Are you hungry, Son?” she asked giving him a sidelong glance.

  Marco nodded his head.

  She gave him a warm smile and passed back the remote control. “Here, watch what you want. I’ll make us some eggs and chips,” she grinned.

  Marco gave her a wide smile. “Thanks, Mum.” He settled back on the sofa to watch television, all the while, his thoughts were of the little Cockney girl and how he could get his revenge on her.

  * * *

  For just over thirty minutes, Jimmy had allowed his niece to talk, without interruption. The only time he held up his hand to stop her was when he reminded her to breathe and to slow down so he could keep up with what she was saying.

  Outwardly, he remained calm, but inside he seethed with anger. He listened intently, not only wanting, but needing her version of events to be crystal clear in his mind. There could be no mistaking the story she told him, even though he would give his right arm for her to be wrong or mistaken.

  He listened as she told him about visiting Cameron and seeing the slip of paper with the address to the warehouse in Tilbury being in his possession, about seeing Gary’s silver Mercedes parked in front of her dad’s car, then finally, the sound of the echoing gun shot.

  He wanted to laugh at himself for his stupidity. This whole time, his brother’s murderer had been right underneath his nose, and not once, had he even considered him to be a suspect. The one person Tommy should have been able to trust was the very same one who had, to all intent and purposes, seemingly loathed him enough to want to see him dead. The very same person who, over the years, had never made any attempt to cover up the hatred he had felt for him.

  All along, he had been hiding amongst them in plain sight—that person being his own brother, Gary. He’d even believed Gary’s sob story about finding Tommy’s lifeless body on the floor, and how he’d singlehandedly tried to stem the bleeding before phoning for the ambulance. He wanted to kick himself. How could he have been so stupid? How could he have been so blind to the lies?

  He allowed her to continue talking and had to fight back the rage he felt, as she went on to tell him about Maria’s cruel, harsh treatment of her. Finally, she was finished speaking and he watched her shoulders slump downwards from the relief of getting it all off of her chest.

  He stood up, looked around the squalid room, and cleared his throat. “Pack up your things. I am not leaving you in this shit-hole. I’m taking you home.” He saw her eyes widen in alarm and he took her tiny hands in his. “No one will hurt you; I promise you that, Kal. I will kill anyone with my bare hands if they so much as even try to harm a single hair on your head.”

  He watched as she began to pack up her few belongings and glanced down at his watch. He was eager to get on his way. Ten minutes later, they were heading down the dimly lit corridor toward the front door.

  “Uncle Jimmy.” He could hear the trepidation in her voice as her fingers reached out and curled around his arm. He
turned his head.

  “There’s something else you need to know.”

  “What?” he braced himself for what else was to come.

  “I’m pregnant.”

  He felt his body stiffen and he took a sharp intake of breath. “Is it his?” He couldn’t bear to say the name out loud, even though deep down, he already knew that his instincts were correct and that she would tell him the father was Gary’s own son, Cameron.

  She bit down on her lip and nodded her head. “Yes it’s his, Jack’s, I mean Cameron’s,” she answered, correcting herself.

  Momentarily, he closed his eyes. It had been one of Tommy’s biggest fears. “Let’s get you home first, and then we can take care of that.”

  “I’m keeping it.”

  Jimmy nodded his head. Instinctively, he had known that would be her answer. “Like I said, let’s get you home first,” he repeated.

  * * *

  Three hours later, Jimmy pulled into the motorway service station. He switched off the engine and glanced across at his niece. She was sound asleep beside him on the passenger’s seat. He gave a gentle smile and tucked his coat around her slim frame. She looked so vulnerable that his heart went out to her once more. Poor kid had had a lot to deal with over the past couple of months, and he could only begin to imagine the terror she had felt.

  Taking his keys out of the ignition, he stepped out of the car and gently closed the door, careful not to wake her. For just a few moments, he leaned backwards against the vehicle, breathing in lungsful of fresh air.

  Finally, he took his mobile phone from his pocket and scrolled through his contact list. He felt absolutely no remorse for what he was about to do, he only wished that he was in a position do it himself. Nothing would give him greater pleasure. It was only the knowledge that he had bigger fish to fry, which was stopping him from turning the car around and driving back to Liverpool.

  He stopped scrolling when he reached Danny McKay’s telephone number and without pausing, he pressed dial.

  “Danny,” he said into the phone. His breath streamed out in front of him and he quickly glanced through the window, checking that Karen was still asleep. He straightened up and moved a few feet away from the car out of ear shot, just in case she should wake up. “Do you have any contacts in Liverpool?” he asked. He gave a satisfied smile as Danny answered. “Good. I want something done.” Quickly, he explained the situation, rattled off an address, and with Danny’s promise that the deed was as good as done, he promptly switched off the call.

  A few moments later, he climbed back into the car. He pushed the key into the ignition and sat for a moment, staring into space. The enormity of the situation regarding Gary and the murder, hit home, and he rubbed his hand across his jaw, thinking it all through. Even though he knew that it was true, he could barely get his head around the fact that one of his brothers had killed the other.

  His thoughts turned to the diamond heist and he suddenly sat up straight. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up on end. With a sudden clarity, everything was beginning to make sense to him, and he had to physically stop himself from slapping his palm against his forehead as realisation finally took hold. How could he have been so naïve? So stupid? How could he have missed the signs?

  With his head held between his hands, he went over everything in his mind. He recalled the sudden interest Gary had taken in the upcoming robbery. How he’d been so adamant that he wanted to drive the getaway car, yet had not only complained bitterly about doing that exact same role in the past, but had also flatly refused.

  And as for their nephews, it was Gary who had persistently asked for the boys to be involved and on the job. Why? Why had he wanted the two boys on board so much? What exactly was Gary going to gain from them all being on the heist?

  He thought back to when Tommy had been in hospital and Gary had wanted the deeds to the businesses, and he clasped his hand across his mouth. Mad Dog had even tried to warn him, but he’d laughed him off. There could be no other explanation. Gary, the Judas, was setting them up for the robbery. He had to be, why else had he given himself such a low-risk role?

  Whilst he, his remaining brothers, and two nephews would be carrying out the job on the inside, Gary would be sitting safely tucked away in the getaway car. No wonder he hadn’t asked for his son to come on board. Despite the fact that large sums of cash were at stake, he didn’t want him involved in the robbery, because he knew for a fact, it was a farce. What was Gary planning to do? Drive them to the job, make a clean getaway, then tip off the old bill? The very thought made him feel sick to his stomach.

  He climbed back out of the car and pulled his mobile phone from his pocket once more, praying that this time, one of his brothers would answer the phone. All evidence of the upcoming robbery would need disposing of. Absolutely nothing could be left lying around and traced back to them. He felt nothing but a sense of relief, when despite the lateness of the hour, Sonny finally answered his phone.

  “The job is off,” he growled into the phone. “We’ve been set up.” He didn’t go into details; he didn’t need to. All that Sonny needed to know was that everything relating to the robbery needed to be destroyed.

  Switching off the call, he jumped back into the car, started the ignition and sped out of the service station. He needed to get back to London as fast as he could.

  * * *

  Within two hours, Jimmy pulled the car onto the drive outside his brother and sister-in-law’s house. He gently nudged his niece awake, then looked up at the house; it was in darkness. He glanced down at his watch; it had just gone four in the morning.

  “Come on, sleepy head,” he smiled. “Let’s wake your mum up.”

  He climbed out of the car, walked around to the passenger’s side, and held open the door as Karen climbed out. Together, they walked toward the front door, and Jimmy banged his fist against it. The hallway light snapped on, and he could hear footsteps padding down the stairs. It was Jake who answered the door, and taking one look at his uncle and sister standing beside him, he called out at the top of his voice for his mother.

  Shrugging on her dressing gown, Stacey dragged her hand through her hair as she made her way down the stairs. “What is it?” There was an underlying hint of fear in her voice that only an unexpected late-night telephone call or knock at the door can bring. She took a nervous glance at her brother-in-law and then to the figure beside him. “Karen!” she screamed. She ran down the last few remaining steps and pulled her daughter into her arms. “Where have you been?” she cried.

  “She just needed a bit of space, isn’t that right, Kal?” Jimmy threw his niece a knowing wink.

  Hearing the commotion, Janet made her way down the staircase. “What’s going on?”

  “Look who’s home.” Holding onto her daughter for dear life, Stacey beamed.

  “Karen!” Pulling her granddaughter toward her, Janet wiped away the tears from her eyes. “Didn’t I tell you she would come home?” she remarked to her daughter-in-law.

  They walked toward the lounge and Janet placed her hand on her second eldest son’s arm. “Thank you, Son. Thank you for bringing our Karen back home where she belongs. Let me get you a cup of tea, it’s bleeding freezing out there.”

  “No thanks, Mum.” Jimmy could barely look his mother in the eye. “I need to shoot off, I’ve got some business to take care of.”

  “Nonsense,” she scolded. “You’ve just travelled halfway around the country, from gawd knows where. Have a cup of tea first.” She placed her hand through his arm. “Come on,” she coaxed. “Come and have a cup of tea with your old mum to celebrate our Karen being back home.”

  Reluctantly, he nodded his head and took a seat in the lounge. With a mug of steaming tea clenched in his fist, he smiled and nodded his head in all the right places, all the while, his thoughts were elsewhere.

  * * *

  With each hour that passed, Gary was becoming increasingly more worried. They were just twenty-four hours away f
rom doing the robbery, and still, he’d heard no word from Jimmy.

  He swirled his brandy around the balloon glass and then swallowed a mouthful of the alcohol down before placing the glass back onto the onyx table in front of him. Beside him, sat Bethany. They were in an upmarket bistro in Brentwood, Essex, tucked away in a secluded booth toward the back of the premises.

  “Try him again,” she urged.

  Gary sighed. “What’s the point? He isn’t answering.”

  “Just try him again,” she hissed.

  He gave an irritated sigh and took his mobile phone out of his pocket. He tapped in his brother’s telephone number and pressed dial. Once again, it went to answerphone. “See, what did I tell you? He isn’t picking up.”

  Bethany chewed on her lip. Like Gary, she too, was becoming increasingly concerned. “Call one of the others and see if they have heard anything.”

  “What’s the point? If he isn’t answering the phone to me, then he won’t answer any of the others, will he?”

  “I don’t know,” she snapped. “Just try.”

  Reluctantly, Gary scrolled through his contact list for no other reason than to placate her. His finger hovered over a telephone number then pressed dial. “Sonny, it’s me,” he said into the phone, his voice was low and gruff. “Have you heard from Jimmy?” His face paled and he glanced toward the mother of his son. “What? When did this happen?” His voice began to rise.

  Snapping her head toward him, Bethany’s eyes widened. “What’s going on?” she mouthed.

  Gary ignored her. He listened intently to what was being said. His heart began to pound inside his chest, and he shook his head to clear his thoughts. Finally, he switched off the call, and in a fit of rage, smashed his phone down onto the table, making Bethany jump.