by Anna Smith
Now, as she drove along the promenade, her phone rang again and it was Vic, to say where he was. She parked the car at the harbour and walked across the road to the café. The sun was coming out and the Brits were beginning to filter into the pie and mash cafés and UK flag-wearing bars. The bar they were meeting in was just off the promenade, further down than most people ventured. Two streets back from the main road in Fuengirola was all Spanish bars and it was almost like walking between two different countries. And there he was, sitting in the corner watching her as she came through the door. He stood up.
‘Sharon.’
He opened his arms and Sharon found herself walking into them. It had been a long time since she’d felt the strong arms of a man around her and she enjoyed it, despite how brief it was. She stood back and looked at him. How did the bastard manage not to age, all chiselled features and suntanned skin, topped off by close-cropped hair that made him look like ex military?
‘By the look of your tan,’ Sharon said, ‘you’ve not been in Salford for a while.’ She knew he’d expect her to be chirpy and with plenty of attitude.
‘Fuck all that for a game of soldiers,’ he said. ‘As soon as they opened the prison doors, I was out of there and on a plane to Tenerife the next day. No more of that UK shit for me.’
Sharon sat down.
‘When did you get out? I never heard anything.’
‘I kind of slipped out below the radar – or maybe you were too busy keeping an eye on Knuckles to be interested on what was going on outside.’
Sharon glared at him, irritated.
‘I have a thirteen-year-old son, who has kept me busy.’
He didn’t answer, noticing her irritation. The waiter came and he ordered another coffee and Sharon asked for the same.
‘And how is your boy? Tony, isn’t it?’
‘Yeah. He’s great. Settled. New school here. He’s very happy.’ She looked straight at him. ‘I’m very happy too, Vic. Life is very different.’
He looked at her for a long moment, and Sharon was conscious that her face would have shown the signs of stress and agony of recent months and sleepless nights – even though things had picked up since she left for Spain. The stress had been beginning to leave her face, but she knew it was still there.
‘Really? That different, Sharon?’ Vic said. ‘I hear you’ve thrown your lot in with this Kerry Casey bird. From what I hear on the grapevine, you guys are struggling.’
Sharon said nothing as the waiter came over and placed the cups on the table. She lifted hers to her mouth and sipped it. Then she took a breath and sighed.
Vic leaned across the table a little closer. ‘I heard about this O’Driscoll guy. Fucking hell. Cut his head off? That’s bang out of order, that is.’
Sharon nodded. She didn’t really want to sit here discussing all of this, and so far Vic hadn’t mentioned that Marty Kane’s grandson had been kidnapped. If he was that well informed, he would know that. She spread her hands.
‘So, Vic. It’s good to see you doing well, and I’m glad life is back on the right track for you. But tell you what, mate. I came here because I’m curious. Not desperate or anything like that. You said you could help us – not that we need any help right now. But I’m curious. Number one: how do you know anything about what’s going on here? And two, what are you trying to do?’ She kept her face straight. The last thing she needed was someone who was effectively just an old flame, coming over here and trying to dig up what she was doing. She didn’t even know if he was anyone she could trust. He was obviously informed but that could mean he was in with the enemy. She leaned closer to him and gave an exaggerated look at her watch. ‘So why don’t you start talking. Forget all this small talk and cryptic shit as I don’t have the time. I have to pick up my son in a few hours and I’ve got stuff to do.’ She raised her eyebrows, waiting.
A smile spread across his face.
‘Fucking sexy as ever, Sharon. Love that edge about you. Like you’ve got a gun below the table aimed at my bollocks.’
‘I might well have.’ She couldn’t help but smile. ‘Come on, for Christ’s sake, Vic. Stop pissing around.’
‘Okay,’ he said, sitting back. ‘Here’s the sketch. I was inside with a Paddy called Shaun Dylan who knows the Irish set-up well. He talked to me a couple of weeks ago and said that Pat Durkin is in with the Colombians. Dylan’s been out now for months and still mad that Durkin tried to do him over, so he’s out for revenge. He’s been asked back into the fold as he’s a top bank fraudster. They need him. He’s the best. Passports, credit cards – all that stuff. So he’s working for them, but will fuck Durkin at the drop of a hat, he says. He can give me inside stuff if I wanted to use it against him. Like with someone like you or this Kerry bird.’
‘So why would you want to help us, or offer your services to the Casey family?’
He rubbed his fingers together. ‘Same as you, Shaz. Money. I’m moving on. I need big money. But I can get things done for you. I can go places that you can’t go. Shaun has introduced me to Durkin already. And I’ve met this Colombian fucker.’
This was a lot to take in. Like someone who could help just dropping out of the sky. But still the niggle was there – what if she couldn’t trust him? What if it was a trap? What would Kerry and the troops think of this complete stranger walking into the fray?
He lifted his coffee up.
‘Let me tell you how well informed I am, by the way. These bastards have kidnapped some kid related to a lawyer who works for the Caseys. They’re holding the kid. That’s the kind of fuckers you’re up against here. And believe me, if you want to get back at them, you’re gonna need my help. Frankie Martin is in with them.’
Sharon hoped her face didn’t show that her insides were going like an engine. She had to talk to Kerry.
Chapter Six
When Kerry saw Vinny Burns’ name come up as her mobile rang, she ignored it – for the second time in the last two hours. If he, or anyone else in Glasgow police, had wanted to speak to her officially about the kidnapping of Marty Kane’s grandson then he would have been knocking on her door. She was surprised that the police hadn’t come calling yet. If they were looking at all aspects of the kidnapping, as she’d seen a DCI say to a TV reporter on the news, then they would have to be looking at the Caseys. Marty had been the family lawyer for a generation, and while he may have made plenty of enemies in his life as a criminal lawyer, they would be wondering if his work for the Caseys was any reason for the kidnapping. But the cops hadn’t come yet. So if Vinny was phoning her mobile, then he wanted to pick her brains. She was a little irritated that he might be using their relationship to see what he could dig out, but she couldn’t blame him. She’d do the same thing. But the last person she wanted to talk to right now was Vinny. She’d been keeping herself busy since she took the pregnancy test, because right now there was no room in her head to even think about it. And yet, she couldn’t stop the thoughts flooding her brain, and the constant nagging question – what the hell was she going to do?
After the test had come up positive, Kerry had sat back down on the toilet seat, staring at the two pink lines, closing her eyes for a second, then opening them just in case she’d been wrong. She even took another test an hour later, and it was the same. She was pregnant. She had to accept it. But there were so many thoughts in her head – shock at first, then finally the tears came. She thought of the miscarriage she’d had over a year ago and the pain of losing a child she really wanted when she had a life to give it and a proper partner. But since then, she’d grown to accept that she may never be a mother, and she was trying to adjust to that. Now this. There wasn’t a worse time in her life to get pregnant than now. And then there was Vinny. How could she possibly tell him she was pregnant with his child after a couple of nights of rekindling an old love in a situation that probably should never have happened? Despite what Vinny had told her when she broke the news to him that they could go no further with the relation
ship, this changed everything. He had told her he had real feelings for her and that he had never stopped loving her. It had been like some old movie scene, but once the heat died down, she was sure he’d accepted that there was no future for them. He was a career cop. She was the head of a notorious gangster family. It just couldn’t work. Then the niggling thought came that he had a right to know. Sharon had said to her that if she found out she was pregnant, then she’d know what to do next. But for Kerry, there was not a single thought of doing anything other than going on with this pregnancy. She was in trouble, no doubt about it. And there was trouble around her, but this pregnancy was her trouble, and she would have to deal with it. She wished she had someone to talk to. She called Maria and invited her over for dinner at the house. As she was about to go along to the kitchen and ask Elsa to prepare something for them tonight, her mobile rang. No number. But as soon as he spoke, she knew.
‘Kerry. It’s me. It’s Frankie.’
Her blood ran cold. She had to be calm. She wanted to scream at him, but she had to think rationally. Frankie Martin. Back from the dead. He wasn’t calling her to wish her well. She waited.
‘Kerry. You need to listen to me. It’s about Marty’s boy. I have a message for you. From Pepe Rodriguez.’
Kerry held her breath. The treacherous bastard was in with the Colombians, just as they’d suspected.
‘So, you’re Pepe Rodriguez’s message boy now, Frankie. And we thought you were dead.’ Her voice was deadpan.
‘Kerry. There’s no time for this shit, if Marty wants to see his boy again.’
Kerry bit back tears of rage.
‘Frankie, you’re a message boy. Don’t try to monster me, you slimy bastard. Where is Finbar? You harm a fucking hair on that boy’s head—’
‘He’s safe,’ he cut her off. ‘He’s all right.’
‘He’s not fucking all right. He’s three years old, Frankie. He’ll be wanting his mummy and daddy. What kind of evil bastards have you got yourself in tow with?’
‘Kerry. Calm down.’
‘Tell me what this Rodriguez bastard wants.’
‘He wants to meet you.’
‘Get Finbar out of there and back to his family first.’
‘That’s the deal. Think about it. The boy gets released when you meet Rodriguez. You’re fucked, Kerry. The Casey family is fucked, and you have yourself to thank for that.’
‘Frankie,’ Kerry could feel panic coursing through her, ‘what does Rodriguez want? Is it money?’
‘He wants everything. The hotel, all your businesses – taxi companies, restaurants, bars, estate agents in Spain. The lot.’
The line went dead.
‘Frankie! Frankie!’ But she knew he was gone.
She sat down, her legs shaky. She phoned Danny in Spain.
‘Danny. It’s me. That bastard Frankie Martin has been on the phone. Jesus, Danny, I can’t believe this. I nearly died when I heard his voice. He’s in with Rodriguez and Durkin right enough. The bastards sent Frankie with the ransom demand.’
‘What?’ Danny’s voice went up an octave. ‘That fucker Frankie. I’d hoped he was dead. He will be when I get my hands on him. What did he say?’
‘He said he was giving a message from Pepe Rodriguez. The Colombian wants to meet me. They’ve got the boy all right. They said he was okay, but I wanted to strangle Frankie through the phone. Smug bastard.’
‘Never mind that, Kerry. We’ll deal with Frankie in due course. What did you say?’
‘He hung up too quickly. He was just making contact. Asking for a meet. I asked what Rodriguez wants.’
‘What did he say?’
‘He said he wants the lot. Everything we have – including the hotel.’
‘Bastard!’
‘What do we do now, Danny?’
There was a pause.
‘We wait for the next call. You’ll need to meet him though. Jack and me will get a plane tonight. We need to work things out. By the way, have the cops been at you yet?’
‘No. Just Vinny. He’s been calling my mobile. But I patched it. He’ll be wanting to pick my brains.’
‘For sure.’
‘Oh Danny, I can’t stop thinking about poor wee Finbar. That’s a day and a night he’s been gone. Poor wee kid will never get over this.’
‘He will, Kerry. We just need to get him back safe. We’ll work it out,’ he said again, then paused. ‘You’d better tell Marty.’
‘I feel for Marty too, Danny. He hasn’t even told his family about the call he got when the kid was taken, and now this. He’s keeping secrets and they would go berserk if they knew what he was holding back.’
‘I know. But this is about keeping Finbar safe. We can’t fuck anything up here that might just jolt that Colombian bastard into doing something bad. You’ll get another call tonight, I’m sure. I think you should call Marty and keep him informed.’
He hung up.
*
Kerry poured Maria a glass of red wine, but took only water for herself, as they sat at her kitchen table. Elsa had cooked lasagne, and Kerry was glad that her appetite had returned as she enjoyed every bite. Just sitting here with Maria, the way they used to sit in her bedroom as teenagers, gossiping when they should have been studying. How differently their lives had turned out, Kerry thought, as she saw how well Maria now looked compared to the waif with dark shadows under her eyes she had been that day they’d been reunited at her mother’s funeral. So much had happened in their lives, but there was something precious that had brought them to this day when they could sit and enjoy each other’s company. Before Maria arrived, Kerry wasn’t sure how much she knew about Marty’s grandson’s kidnapping, but she would have seen it on the news. But the fact that they weren’t discussing it here felt like the elephant in the room. Kerry knew she could trust Maria, and more than anything right now she needed to talk to someone about it.
‘Maria,’ Kerry said, ‘you’ll have seen and heard about Marty’s grandson, Finbar.’
Maria nodded. ‘I didn’t want to mention it, Kerry, because it’s not my place to pry, but I can’t get it out of my mind.’ She shook her head. ‘That poor wee boy. And Marty, and of course the boy’s parents will be beside themselves. Marty was so kind to my Cal that time when he got arrested. My heart bleeds for the man.’
Kerry knew that Maria would be wondering if the kidnapping was something to do with the Casey family, but she wouldn’t want to ask. For a moment they said nothing, then Kerry spoke.
‘I feel so responsible. It’s enemies of the Casey family who have taken him. I’ll never forgive myself.’
Maria didn’t look surprised, but for a few beats she said nothing, and Kerry wondered if she was disgusted with her. Then she said, ‘It crossed my mind that it must be something like that, or someone who wanted to hit back at Marty over a court case. Kidnapping a child is beyond evil.’ She took a sip of her wine. ‘But, Kerry, I know what you mean. You are head of this family, and I know a little of what goes on here, but I’m doing the job I do and not asking questions.’ She looked at her friend. ‘I will always be grateful for what you have done for me, for Cal and for my Jenny. I will never judge you for how it came to this, that someone can use a child as a bargaining tool. So, I don’t know what the answer is, but there has to be some way to get this boy back.’ She paused. ‘And I want you to know that whatever I can do to help in any way at all, I will. Whatever you are planning or discussing – I know I am not involved like that with your business – but if you need someone to help in any way, then I’ll be there.’
Kerry looked at her, not quite sure what she meant. Maria was talking as though she wanted to be on the frontline.
‘What I mean is,’ Maria said, ‘well, I suppose you must be looking at a way to get him back.’
‘We don’t even know where the boy is being held,’ Kerry said.
‘But you have so many people working for you, Kerry – eyes and ears everywhere – I can see that even in th
ese few weeks doing my own job. There must be someone who can shed some light on where the boy is.’
‘Of course. We are working on it. But then what?’ Kerry asked. She knew Maria was the last person to have any insight on how to hunt down the Colombian and his cohorts, but she was interested in what she was saying.
‘Then you find a way to get in there. To tear down their walls and get wee Finbar.’
Kerry found herself almost smiling at Maria’s bold thoughts.
‘You’re talking like a military leader, Maria,’ she said. ‘I’m not knocking it, and once we find out where Finbar is we will be trying to find a way to tear down those walls – and keep him safe at the same time. I’m just surprised to hear this talk coming from you.’
Maria half smiled. ‘I know what you mean. Easier said than done. I was just thinking back to stories my Al told me when he was home from Iraq. He’d been involved in rescuing those hostages that were on TV, where they smashed their way into the insurgent house and brought them out alive. I remember seeing it on telly, but never thinking for a moment Al was involved. He never told me himself about it when he came back. But one of his mates did, and when I asked him, he told me a little about it, and that people had died in the process – two insurgent teenagers in the house. He never spoke about it again. But these things can be achieved in hostage situations if the right people go in.’ She pushed her wine away. ‘I’m probably just talking rubbish, but I would feel pretty helpless right now and I’m sure you do, not being able to kick down doors and do something.’
