Midnight's Door

by Robert F Barker

  As I expected, both the side door and the back fire exit door were closed and locked. They looked secure, but a sliver of hope was burning in my brain. Over the past couple of weeks, we'd been having trouble with the rear fire exit locking-bar sticking. I'd noticed it getting worse the week before and had told Eric to ring the maintenance company. As far as I knew they hadn't been yet. There'd been a couple of occasions when whoever did the last checks at night had missed the fact that the door wasn't properly locked. Closed enough for the alarm sensors to make contact, but not locked. It had led to a couple of bollockings being handed out, one to Chris the other, a rota-guy. I wondered who'd done the checks last night?

  I stood in front of the door. It looked secure and when I pushed against it, it didn't budge. But I knew it would take more than a push. I took a step back, lifted my right leg then kicked at the door, as hard as I could. A crack appeared between the door edge and the jamb. As the other times it had happened, the bar hadn't been properly engaged. I didn't worry about who hadn't done their job properly but got my fingers in and pulled the door open. I stepped inside. The first thing I heard was music. I recognised it at once. The Adagio For Strings.

  CHAPTER 61

  I raced round the corridor towards the front. The emergency lights stay on all the time so there was just enough light to see. The music was playing as loud as it would be on a club night. It wasn't some cleaner with a radio. With the shutters down, the lobby was in semi-darkness, but one of the doors to the dance floor was standing open, flashing light spilling out.

  I ran through and followed the wall until I reached the point where I could see the dance floor and stopped. The scene will stay with me the rest of my life.

  Vicki was lying on the floor, Mickey straddled across her chest, facing more or less towards me. He was leaning forwards, straining to pull at something. At first I couldn't see what it was, then I realised. He had something round her throat. I was vaguely aware of what may have been a video camera on a tripod close by, and that he'd set spots so they were shining on them - a bit different to a canal tow-path at night. But all this barely registered, because there was only one thing I was focusing on - Vicki - and the fact that she wasn't moving.

  I launched myself down the steps shouting, 'MICKEY,' hoping to distract him enough he would stop pulling on what looked to me like a scarf.

  It worked.

  He must have caught my movement because as I reached the bottom of the steps he looked up and saw me coming. He reacted at once, rolling off Vicki to scramble towards a small, black object lying near the edge of the floor. I was less than twenty feet away and focused more on Vicki than him now - I could see her face looked purple in the light - when he reached it. He rolled again and came up in a sitting position and pointed it at me. I was thinking, Mickey wouldn't own a gun, when there was a flash of bright light and something hit me with the force of an express train. Pain like nothing I'd ever felt before racked my whole body and I went down. I knew at once what it was. Taser.

  I came to sitting in a chair in the middle of the dance floor. The music had finished but the floor was still lit. As my vision cleared and focused, I saw Mickey in front of me. He was adjusting the camcorder on the tripod. I followed the way it was pointing and saw Vicki. She was lying across one of the square tables he must have brought down from the Early Hours Bar. Her head was hanging over one edge so that her hair trailed down, her legs dangling over the one opposite. Her dress was pulled up, exposing her lower half. Her knickers were gone. The fact she wasn't moving - at all - sent my stomach into free-fall.

  I made to get out of the chair, but found I couldn't. It was only then I realised, my arms were pinned behind and over the back of one of the tubular-steel chairs that are standard around the club. I tried to move my legs, but they were stuck to the chair legs. I tested what was pinning my wrists and realised it was a zip-tie, already digging in tight enough that my hands were tingling. I tried to shout out but couldn't do that either. There was something soft stuffed in my mouth - I was conscious there was no sign of her knickers - held in place by duct tape. I thought of last night. Charnley and Bergin, in the back of Harry's van, and knew what they'd felt like.

  'Welcome back, Danny.' I looked up. Mickey was smiling at me as he made his final adjustments to the camera and straightened up. 'Bloody effective these Taser things. I wish I'd got hold of one sooner. I'll have to thank Eve when I see her next for running me through how it works last night. I'm not sure if she's missed it yet. I'm sure I'll find out later.' He pointed at the table, and Vicki. 'Shame you didn't get here in time for the main part of the show, I think you'd have liked it.' I wasn't sure what he meant but didn't like the sound of it. I hardly dared look at her but had to. There was something, horribly final about the way she was just lying there. Vicki...

  I exploded into action, pulling at my ties - and got nowhere. But I could see that my sudden attempt to break loose had spooked Mickey enough to wipe the smile off his face. He'd taken a step back and his hand had gone to his waistband where a large knife, like a hunting knife, was lodged in his belt. I remember thinking, you may kill women, but you're still a wimp.

  Satisfied I wasn't going anywhere, it seemed, Mickey, became active.

  'Now I can't hang around Danny, because Tony will be here about six to open up. But that still gives us enough time to do what we have to do.' He nodded at Vicki. 'Beautiful like that, isn't she? You should have seen her Danny. She was sooo good. She told me it was supposed to be something special, for you, tonight. I never realised you and her were- Ah well, never mind. At least I got to see it.' He pointed at the camera. 'And I'm sure I'll enjoy seeing it many more times to come.'

  I tried to shout, 'YOU FUCKING BASTARD,' but it just came out as series of mmmphhs.

  He continued, 'But you're here now, so at least you'll get to see what I do to them, after, so to speak.' He stopped, as if he'd thought of something. 'In fact, that gives me an idea. Hang on.' He went back to the camera, checked the viewfinder, adjusted it. Then he approached the table and dragged it a few feet across the floor, nearer to me. He's putting me in the shot, I thought. He went back to the camera. 'There, that's good. Now you're both in.' The smile came back. 'Ever done any dogging, Danny? No? I have. It's a blast. Watching someone shagging your girlfriend, or wife. It's becoming very popular they tell me. You'll have to try it sometime. Oh, hang on. No, you won't be able to. Never mind. You'll get the idea in a minute.' He lifted a hand and I saw he was holding something small and black. He pointed it at the camera. There was a soft 'whirr' and a green light came on. 'Right, let's go.'

  He approached the table. He turned to me one last time, winked, and said, 'Enjoy the show,' Then he stepped between her legs, and began to unbuckle his belt.

  I screamed into my gag. 'NOOOO.' I pulled again, hard, at my wrists and ankles. They stayed tight. I strained back against the chair itself. But tubular steel isn't designed to break. I looked up. Although he was facing away from me, the way his shoulders were hunched and his right arm - the one furthest from me - was making rapid movements, I knew what he was doing. Then I saw it, in his left hand. The knife. His head started to come back, a strangled groan starting in the back of his throat. He swapped the knife into his right hand, lifted it, high, above him. I screamed again.

  That was when everything went black.

  CHAPTER 62

  I remember it all so clearly now. I'll never need the video. Not that I'd ever watch it, even if they'd let me.

  It starts with a strange buzzing in my head. A voice, far away, calling to me,

  'Danny, Danny.'

  I open my eyes. Everything is red. Blood red. Suddenly I remember. Vicki, the knife hanging over her. Oh Christ, it's hers. It's Vicki's blood. On my hands, the floor, everywhere. The voice comes again, becoming louder.

  'Danny. DANNY.'

  I look down. Her face is covered in blood, so much I can't even make her out clearly. In fact, I can't make anything out clearly.


  'Fucking JESUS. DANNY.'

  I feel something, on my face. A pain, and I realise. I've just been punched, hard. I turn to where I think my attacker is. A man stands there. It takes me a moment to recognise him.

  'Eric?'

  'Thank FUCK.'

  I start to turn back to her.

  'NO. Stay with me, Danny. You've got to stop.'

  I turn back to him, slowly. Why must I stay with him? What must I stop?

  'IT'S OVER,' Eric shouts, but I don't understand.

  'Wha- What's over?'

  'THIS. HIM.'

  I see he is looking down at something at my feet. I look down as well, at Vicki..

  Only it's not Vicki. It's... someone else. A man. But I can't tell who, not through all the blood. Then I realise. It's Mickey. And he isn't moving. At all.

  It's happened. Again.

  In a rush that makes me suck at air like a drowning man surfacing for the last time, it all comes back to me.

  VICKI.

  I look around. We're not on the main dance floor, where I last remember us being. We're way over, on the upper dance floor. I look back down to where we were. The table is still there, only now it’s been tipped over onto its side, like someone banged into it. Vicki is lying next to it, not moving. 'OH, GOD NO. JESUS NO. PLEASE' I look at my hands, my wrists. My hands are grazed and bloody. My wrists are cut and bleeding, with deep, livid-red burns. I'm kneeling over Mickey. His face is a bloody pulp. I realise what's happened. After breaking free of the zip-tie - is such a thing even possible? - I must have chased and caught him up here.

  I get to my feet, a little unsteadily, then turn and race back down to where she is lying. Behind me, Eric calls. 'DANNY, WAIT.' But I can't wait. I need to get to her. To save her, like I always promised her I would.

  I stop, standing over her. She is lying face down. I bend to her. Eric is still shouting,

  'DANNY.'

  I turn her over. I see her clearly now, for the first time since I'd arrived. I see the hole in her dress over her stomach, from which dark red blood is oozing.

  'OH MY GOD.'

  CHAPTER 63

  A Sunday

  I think I've mentioned it before, but Warrington Golf Club does nice bacon butties on a Sunday morning. I was half way through one when Mike showed up. I didn't see him come in, he just appeared, standing over my table. I'd been about to take another bite, but I stopped, my butty six inches from my mouth. I looked up at him.

  He said, 'Holy shit, Danny. Are you alright?'

  I looked at him for a few seconds, then finished my bite. Between chews I said, 'What do you think?'

  I saw him look round, at everyone who had put down their butties and coffees to look at us, or more accurately, me. Everyone in that room would have heard about it all by then. I didn't give a fuck. I took another bite.

  Mike was becoming agitated. He reached down and grabbed at my arm. 'You shouldn't be here, Danny. Not in your condition.' He tried to pull me up out of the chair but I shrugged him off, more violently than I'd intended and the force of it sent him off balance so he nearly fell. Around the room, there were sharp intakes of breath. I looked round at them.

  'What're you all staring at?'

  'Danny,' Mike pleaded.

  'Tossers,' I threw out.

  'Danny. Please.' I could see he was desperate for me to stop. He sat down. I took the last bite of my sandwich, licked my fingers, then met his gaze.

  'Can we not do this here? Please?'

  'Where then? I don't seem able to find you anywhere else. I've been trying all week.'

  He looked around again. Everyone pretended to go back to their own business.

  'Come with me.'

  As I stood up, I shouted across to the lad behind the bar. 'Great butty. I'll come again.' I followed Mike as he hurried out of the lounge.

  The plate on the door of the office upstairs read, 'Club Secretary.' Mike led me in. There was a round table under the window. We sat down. He looked at me, sadly.

  'I- I'm sorry about what happened,' he said.

  'Me too,' I said.

  He hesitated. 'I'm talking about-'

  'I know what you're talking about. Skip it. Let's talk business.'

  'You don't have to be like this, Danny. It wasn't me who-'

  He stopped as my head snapped up. He'd seen what was in my eyes. He lowered his head, and sighed.

  'What do you want me to do?'

  I reached into my jacket and took out the sheaf of documents, spread them out in front of him. Then I took out a pen, and laid it alongside.

  'What's this?'

  'An agreement.'

  'What sort of agreement?'

  'The sort where you agree to sign over your half of the business to me.'

  He looked at me like I was crazy. 'You're fucking crazy. Why would I do that?'

  'Because if you don't, I'll have to take some other action.'

  'What sort of other action?'

  I made sure he was looking at me when I said, 'The sort a nutter like me might take against the man who sold his partner out to a Russian crook for fifty thousand quid so he could pay off his gambling debts.'

  As I watched the colour - all of it - drain from Mike's face, I knew I had him.

  'Wh- What are you talking about?'

  'I'm talking about you taking a bung from Yashin in return for setting me up for Ged Reilly’s murder, so that Frank would have a reason for sacking us off the door.'

  'Set you up? What makes you think I set you up?’ Even as he said it, his Adam’s apple was doing a little jig. ‘And why would I want us sacked off the door? It's my business as well isn't it?'

  'It is, but let me come back to that point. You got Ricky Mason to tell you what happened between him and Ged and where Ged’s body was buried, then made an anonymous phone call to the police, saying I was responsible. But then you panicked and tried to cover your tracks and confuse the issue by paying Stevie B another thou to ring me and tell me he’d found Ged in Thailand. How’s all that for starters?'

  I stopped and waited. He didn't answer, but I saw him swallow.

  'And the why is because you needed more spare cash than the business is pulling in because you've landed yourself in trouble again with the gambling. You had an agreement with Dave Charnley that if he got the door, he was going to pay you a retainer for three years. With the bung from Yashin you'd put yourself in the clear, and still make an income from your IT involvements.'

  He made one last, feeble attempt. 'Where've you got all this crap fro-'

  'Ricky Mason for one, Stevie B for another.'

  He stared at me. 'But what about the Russian? We never-'

  'Bergin. His number two.'

  'Bergin? He'd never blow out his boss.'

  'Oh believe me, Mike, he would. He did. Amazing what a bit of gentle persuasion can do.'

  'What sort of, gentle persuasion?'

  'Oh I don’t think you need to know that Mike. Let’s just say that guys like Bergin sometimes need to have things explained to them in ways that are really easy to understand. And I got the last bit from Dave Charnley himself.'

  'Charnley? People are saying he’s gone missing. Do you know where he is?'

  I gave a shrug. 'I believe he’s taking a sabbatical from the Security business for a while. My understanding is he’s left town.’

  He gave me a strange look. ‘A, sabbatical?’

  I pointed at the papers. 'Sign.'

  He stared at me for a while. Then he started to read. He scanned down the first page.

  'It says here you're paying me ten thousand.'

  'Yeah, so?'

  'Have you got ten thousand?'

  'Not to give you I haven't.'

  'So why should I sign?'

  I looked down at the floor. Clasped my hands together. Then I looked up. Stared into his face, and let him look deep, deep into my eyes. 'Would you prefer the alternative?'

  After about ten seconds thinking about it, he picked up
the pen. His hand was shaking as he signed. He dropped the pen on the table. 'Is that it?'

  'Yes, Mike. That's it.'

  He stood up and stared out of the window. There was a lovely view out over the eighteenth green. As he turned he said, 'You do know, Danny. It was never personal.'

  I already had the door open, but I stopped to turn and look at him. 'Who do you think you are, Mike? The fucking Godfather?'

  As I headed back downstairs, I wondered if he'd got the reference. He was never into films wasn't Mike.

  CHAPTER 64

  Saturday night

  The floor was bouncing as much as I'd seen it in a long time.

  'What do you think?' Eric said.

  I finished my scan, turned to him. 'Tell Winston that's it. No more tonight.'

  Eric checked his watch. 'Jeez. And it isn't even midnight yet.'

  'As the saying goes, there's no such thing as bad publicity.'

  I watched as Eric weaved his way through the crowd. For a big guy, Eric can be surprisingly light on his feet. As he passed by a gang of four lads, one of them nodded to me and raised his bottle in salute. I recognised him as the one the Russian had tried to pick a fight with that night, and nodded back. I turned towards the Dusk-til-Dawn bar. Babs and Carmen were perched on their usual stools. They did the girly-wave thing and flashed me their big smiles, other things too. I returned the smile, but didn't go over. After everything that had happened, I'd decided to try and adopt a lower profile for a while.