- 6. -
After the briefest pause Ben rushed towards the link door to the shop. It was locked of course. Desperately he plunged into his pocket for the keys. He fumbled with the handle in his rush to open it, managing to insert the key at the third attempt. He swung the door wide open. Then he stopped in the pitch darkness and felt along the wall for the switch.
A second later the light flashed on and he paused, blinking in its brightness as he looked around. He immediately saw one of the upright display stands had been knocked over and its contents (mainly special offer bottles of wine) were rolling across the carpet. But at first sight there seemed to be nothing else out of place. Everything appeared to be as he had left it when he closed the shop at six o’clock. This time there was none of the destruction that had been caused when some vandals broke in one weekend when he was away. On that occasion, in addition to the items stolen, there had been filth and excrement everywhere when he returned two days later – nearly five thousand pounds’ worth of drunken, wanton damage. Perhaps this time he had disturbed the thieves before they could do any real harm.
Responding to the strident clangour of the alarm bell, he made for the front door. It was ajar. In a few strides he had pulled it open and was out on the street. There was no one in sight, but he fancied he could hear the clatter of fleeing feet in the distance. He hesitated, trying to decide whether he should chase after them in an attempt to get a sight of the robbers or immediately phone the police.
Just then Mollie screamed. It was a sound that made the hairs tingle on his scalp. What on earth had happened to her?
Ben spun round and dashed back into the shop. He saw her immediately. She was standing by the door leading into the rear office. Her back was towards him and she seemed half doubled up and clutching at the door jamb. She was making a soft little sound, something between a groan and a whimper, as if she had been violently struck in the stomach.
He rushed to her side, not knowing whether she had been attacked or suddenly taken ill. Then he saw the cause of her distress. Lying on its side in the middle of the office was the body of a man.
All that Ben could see from the door was his back. He had dark hair and was wearing a dirty white shirt and light-coloured trousers. His hands were secured behind his back with electrical wire and his bare feet were tied together in the same way. Ben could see where the wire had bitten deeply into the puffy, bruised flesh. There was a great dark patch below the top half of the body which was slowly spreading out over the expensive Turkish carpet. And the collar of the man’s shirt was turning crimson.
Ben felt himself propelled to the man’s side. As he got near he could see the start of a wound at the throat. With a horrible fascination he reached out to touch the man’s shoulder. His heart leaped into his mouth as the body toppled onto its back. The head lolled at a strange unnatural angle where it had been half severed from the neck. Despite the fact that he was looking at the face of a man in the last grimace of death, there was no mistaking who it was. He was touching the still-warm body of his business partner and friend.
This was the end of life for Toni, his close friend for the last six years and the man whose life he had saved in the Italian mountains a little over two years ago.
“Oh, my God,” thought Ben suddenly, “I think I’m going to be sick.”
He didn’t know why, but he felt he had to return Toni’s body to the position it had been in when he first saw it. He grabbed the shoulder and started to lift it. He pushed at the body and it flopped loosely over like a gigantic rag doll. After that he had to pause for a minute – concentrating hard on a bit of the carpet, staring at the pattern and seeing the detail of the pile – while he waited for the feeling of nausea to pass.
It was then that he noticed something out of the corner of his eye. It was a small, square object which might have fallen from Toni’s hand. He reached over and picked it up. It looked like a kind of enamelled badge. It was small and metallic and surprisingly heavy. He had never seen anything quite like it before. Why should Toni have been holding something like that?
However that wasn’t important now. He had to do something to help Mollie. The worst of the shock had passed. He got shakily to his feet, keeping his eyes averted from the body. Then he had to pause again because the world seemed to be swaying about him. His head felt as though he’d just walked into the fresh air after a drinking orgy.
To try and order his mind, Ben looked around him. The office was a complete shambles. Every filing cabinet had been pulled open and papers were strewn over the floor. Drawers had been opened and tipped onto desktops and the contents scattered about. The stationery cupboard had been opened. Notepaper and envelopes had been hurled across the room. Even the secretary’s office beyond the glass screen had been ransacked. Notice boards and calendars had been pulled off the walls. Chairs and a small table had been upturned. Obviously someone had been searching the place thoroughly.
His head began to clear and he dragged his gaze away from the scene of devastation. He turned his attention to Mollie who still looked as though she had been paralysed by the shock. She just stood by the door, quivering, without appearing to look at anything. With an effort Ben shook off his own revulsion and turned his attention to her.
She didn’t react in any way when he took her in his arms. She didn’t even seem to see him there. He slid the zip of her dress up again and pulled the stole over her shoulders. He removed her hands from the door jamb as gently as possible and shepherded her back into the shop. He led her to the clients’ sampling area where she allowed herself to be lowered onto a sofa. She was still mute, seemingly deep in shock. He leaned over her, wondering what he should do to help her.
What he most wanted to do was to wash his hands – the hands which had touched Toni’s dead body. But he couldn’t leave Mollie on her own while he went to the toilet. And he couldn’t very well take her up to his flat now.
Of course! He suddenly realised that he had to ring the police. They would want to know why that hadn’t been the very first thing which had entered his mind. No doubt they would be annoyed about him touching the body. He wished he hadn’t done it, but it was too late to change that now. What should he say to them?
“Just stay there a moment, Mollie? I must ring the police.”
She nodded, but still didn’t look at him.
He went to the extension phone on the side table. It took him less than thirty seconds to make the call. The woman at the police control centre told him to wait and not to touch anything. They would be there in less than five minutes.
Now he could sit beside Mollie, put his arms round her and start to murmur little messages into her ear. She seemed to be helped by that. After a few minutes the tears began to flow. She made no noise. There were no sobs or sniffs. It was as though a tap had been turned on and the tears and the tension poured out of her. She gradually relaxed. Her shoulders slumped and she trembled against him.
“Don’t worry, darling. The police will be here in a few minutes.”
His murmured encouragements resulted in a rather watery smile. He put his arm round her again and she snuggled up to him. Ben reflected that this was just what he had hoped she would be doing by now – but in rather different circumstances.
He pulled out his handkerchief and gave it to her to mop up her tears. As he did so, the little metal object which he had found beside Toni’s body fell with a thump onto the floor. He picked it up and examined it more closely. It was a small piece of metal about an inch square, and heavier than its thickness would suggest. There were some irregular scratches on the reverse, rather like rough Roman numerals. They were indecipherable to Ben.
The face was very smooth. He turned it over and studied the small picture which was enamelled on the metal. It was an image of grotesque design but exquisite execution. Around the edge was a dark green border. In the centre was a black dog with red eyes. The artist had rendered the animal in the tiniest detail, so that even the individual hairs could be picked
out. It was standing with its head lowered and with blood dripping from its savage white fangs. A short chain held it by a studded collar as it sought to escape - as though to pursue some unfortunate victim. Its long-clawed paws were tearing furiously at the non-existent ground. Its face bore an expression of almost demonic hatred. It was truly a beast to terrify the most stout-hearted. He wondered what on earth it was doing in Toni’s possession.
Then he heard the sound of an approaching police siren and the thoughts were driven from his mind as he slipped the object back into his pocket.
Within seconds the car had pulled up outside the shop. A burly constable entered wearing a waterproof jacket and carrying his mobile.
“Is there an emergency, sir?”
Ben just pointed to the back of the shop. The constable walked to the door of the office and Ben watched him recoil at the sight which met his eyes. The next minute the man was on the radio to the station.
The Mafia Emblem Page 6
