Beyond Evidence (10 page)

Seventeen

An unexpected visitor

As Ross flipped the bacon, the piping hot fat from the frying pan spattered onto his skin and he felt his stomach nip a little. The kitchen smelled like a burger van, the kind you would find outside a football stadium or at a theme park. He was making a fry up for himself and the television played in the background. The sun shone through the window and it showed every speck of dirt on the glass. The floor around the cooker had spatters of cooking fat on it and the worktops were also quite greasy looking. He finished cooking the bacon, sausage and eggs and served them on a heavily buttered role. He walked into the living room and sat down on the chair facing the television.

He was not really watching the programme, he was just staring at the screen, thinking of his next plan.

He smiled as he thought of his next victim, thinking of how he could add to his technique to throw the police off track.

That's if they're even on track.
He thought to himself.

As he ate he pictured Rebecca, Angela and Michelle. He was not ashamed of what he had done. Why should he be? He was only doing it for the good of his sanity.

"Billy fucked us up. It's only necessary that I put things right, isn't it?" he said as he looked at the picture of his mum on the kitchen wall.

Ross Turner had started out his life as best he could, considering his mother was a beaten wife and his father was a drunken waste of a human being, in Ross's opinion.

After Billy had gone to jail, Ross slowly became insane, but he knew that the grief for his mother had taken over. The revenge had become an obsession. It was the first thing that he thought about on awakening and the last thing before slipping into sleep at night.

His life had become about living for his mother. Prison wasn't justice enough for Ross after the murder, torture and mental abuse that Maria had endured for many years of her marriage to Billy. That's what he wanted, justice. He knew deep down that all of the pain, loss and frustration he felt for his mother was one hundred percent down to Billy, but he just couldn't accept the fact that Maria was gone, and Billy was in prison, still alive. He had convinced himself that someone else was to blame. All of those horrible women who smelled of cigarette smoke and alcohol that Billy brought home, all of the lies, all of the dirty filthy lies that seemed to pour out of his mouth with great ease, it all became unbearable for Ross.

Angela Noble became part of Ross's revenge, the first
real
piece of sanity brought back to his grief stricken mind.

Angela Noble looked like all
that he could remember of Billy’s conquests. Typical looking girl out to hurt and cause carnage on someone else. But he knew that if a Billy came along, she wouldn't hesitate to make it known that she was up for it.

It all seemed like it was meant to be, the sun was setting and the beer garden was beginning to empty as the night began to cool down and a slight chill in the Glasgow night air sent goose bumps over the skin of the people enjoying their martini's and vodka's. For some reason Angela was sat outside on her own, with a black maxi dress and long brunette hair that had natural curls hanging around her face and down her back.

One may have said she was elegantly presented, but not Ross. For some reason, when he looked at her, he felt sheer rage. It all happened in a blur, Ross felt like he wasn't the one committing the crime, but a witness to it. A witness who enjoyed watching her squirm in a chokehold, a hold that she hoped she would be able to escape and a hold that he knew he would never let go. Not until he was satisfied that the job was done, keeping in mind, a job that he hadn't even
planned
to do, on that occasion anyway.

It wasn't until he saw the local news the next evening that the real satisfaction kicked in. The satisfaction of knowing that, in his mind, causing grief was to cure grief, his own grief. The grief he felt for Maria. But the pain was still there, he could feel her pain, he could feel how she felt when she heard Bi
lly bring home the latest whore.

One is not enough justice for my mother
,
he kept telling himself.

He felt no remorse for Angela and neither for Michelle or Rebecca.

"There will never be enough justice for you mum. They'll suffer the way we did, until I take my last breath, until I bleed my last drop, whatever it takes."

The buzzer rang in Ross'
hallway and for a moment he wondered if this was the end of his run already. Well, if it was, he wasn't ready, but he wasn't going to show it on the surface. He walked steadily from the kitchen to the hall and picked up the receiver, picking up some post that had been dropped on to the mat at the same time.

"Hello?"

"Son?" A familiar but gruff voice replied.

Ross was in disbelief.
There's no way.

"Ross?" Billy's voice was clearer now than it ever had been. He felt like a child again. The fear of not knowing what to expect had crept over his skin like a colony of ants.

Do not let him hear your fear, he can't win you over with his intimidation, you owe it to yourself.

"I'm sorry, but may I ask, what the
fuck
you think you are doing here?" Ross hissed into the receiver.

"I just want to talk to you son, please I need to explain a few things, please let me in?" Billy sounded remorseful.

"I'm not your son, and no, you can't come in. Are you fucking stupid?"

Billy stood outside the secure do
or flat and took a deep breath. He didn't expect anything else from Ross and why should he? He had been the cause of his mother's death, although not physically, mentally, yes. He had admitted a very long time ago that the lies, cheating and abuse had sent her over the edge and she had killed herself, which he had been riddled with guilt from ever since.

Billy had been seeing a councillor for his state of mind and his time in prison had made him believe he was now a changed man. All Billy wanted was to at least explain what had made him the man he was back then and if Ross would let him he would try to amend his mistakes.

Billy knew fine well that Ross wasn't going to speak to him, never mind let him in his home, but he didn't want the what if, question running through his mind until his dying day. He rang the buzzer again. No answer.

He pushed the door, on the off chance that it would open. It didn't. He turned his back to the door to face Dumbarton Road in
Partick. The street was still busy for eight o'clock at night. The sun was still shining and the roads still hummed with cars and double deck buses. He looked out at the street in front of him and Billy knew that he had to walk away. There were no second chances for men like him, changed or not.

He turned to face the door at the sound of it opening and much to his disbelief, standing in the doorway was Ross.

Eighteen

A convenient accident

"You've got ten minutes," Ross said.

"OK.
"

As they climbed the stairs of the close, Ross wondered what on earth Billy was going to say that he thought would make things better.

Nothing could make things better between us,
he thought to himself.

The close was lit with dim bulbs which looked as though they were from the war years, and the stench of bleach was overwhelming. As they climbed higher, the smell became stronger, and there came a clanging sound from above them.

"What's with the smell and the noise?" Billy hoped to break the silence as they climbed the stairs.

"One of the neighbours is mopping the floors of the close," Ross answered bluntly.

"It's nice that someone looks after the close isn't it?"

Ross blocked out Billy’
s voice and opened his front door. He wanted to jam Billy's head between the door and the door frame as he entered but thought better of it.

He followed Ross into the living room and stood by the window. Ross looked at him expectantly, but Billy said nothing. He looked around and saw the picture of Maria, his late wife and felt a wave of guilt flow through him. When he looked up and saw Ross staring into his eyes, he felt frozen, like he had forgotten everything he had planned to say.

"Well, aren't you going to tell me how sorry you are? How sorry you are about Mum, about how you treated us?" Ross taunted him.

"Would it make a difference? Y
ou wouldn't listen to me anyway."

"You owe me some sort of fucking explanation. My Mum killed herself and
left me and you drove her to it." Ross spoke through gritted teeth. "Oh, and while we are on the subject of driving her to do things that were not necessary, you should know that she made sure I found out about him."

Billy's face changed from se
lf pity and regret to confusion. "Him, who?"

"Jeffery?
You remember him don't you
Dad
? Your
first
born son?" Ross continued taunting him.

"How do you know about that?" Billy asked quietly.

"Mum left me a note. And she made sure that I would find it. I know all about how you made her give him up for adoption. How she felt like she had no other choice but to get rid of him."

"I..." Billy did not have anything to say regarding Jeffery. He knew that it was there and then that Ross did not regard him as anything else but a monster.

"You what?"

"Nothing, all I was going to say was what I have already said. But there would be no
point, my words will not provide any comfort."

"Do you know what? I don't even know this Jeffery person and I am already jealous of him. In fac
t, I actually quite dislike him." Ross took a step closer to Billy, now standing so close that Billy could feel his son's breath on his face.

"Why is that?" Billy asked.

"Because the lucky bastard is free from you, he didn't have to live his life watching you beat his Mother like she was some kind of wild animal. He didn't have to grow up with
you
as a Dad. He got the get out of jail free card... and I got a fucking life sentence!"

A few moments passed where silence was the only thing that filled the room.

"I wasn't a well man Ross. I was an alcoholic and off my face on coke most of the time. It wasn't...."

"Wasn't
, what? Wasn't your fault? You're so full of it. I don't give a shit what you were on, she was my Mum, your wife. What man treats his wife and family the way you did? You beat her black and blue for years and shagged anything you could get your filthy hands on, and you subjected us
both
to it!" Ross's rage had gone past boiling point and he slammed Billy up against the wall.

All sorts of
thoughts raced through his mind, his Mum, his childhood. He felt like he couldn't breathe, his throat felt like it was closing up slowly and his vision became blurred.

"Go on then, if it makes you feel better!" Billy shouted in his face. "Punch me, slam my head off the wall. Do what you will but it will never change what I did, it will never bring her back!"

Ross let go of Billy and turned his back on him. He tried to calm himself, he didn't want his neighbours hearing anything. He couldn't risk it. He took a few deep breathes as Billy looked on, wondering what was coming next.

"All I wanted was to tell you how sorry I am and if I could take it all back I would."

"But you can't, so what's the point of coming here and causing me more misery?" he turned to Billy, his face expressionless.

"I didn't want to go through the rest of my life wondering, what if?"

They stood in silence for a few moments more, both thinking about what life would have been like if Billy hadn't done what he did for all those years.

"I think you should leave before I do something that I will regret!" Ross looked straight through Billy, knowing that if pushed far enough, he would break his neck and that would be it done!

"OK, I'll leave, but I am truly sorry."

He walked to the front door and as he left he didn't look back. Billy knew his br
idges were well and truly burnt.

I've ruined him,
he thought to himself as he descended the stairs of the close.

He passed the woman who was mopping the floor and the smell of bleach was once again overwhelming. She smiled at him as he passed her on the stairs and he smiled back. She was an older lady, in her seventies with short white hair and an apron over her clothes.

"Watch your step there sir, it's awfully slippery," she warned him with a gentle voice.

"Thanks," Billy replied.

She watched him go down the next flight until he was no longer in her sight. She carried on mopping the cold granite flooring until she was interrupted by an echoing racket coming from below her and a male scream. The bumping and banging continued for a few more seconds as she made her way down. She guessed what had happened but what she found was not what she had expected.

She stood above him, half way down the set of stairs where he had met his maker. A broken neck, ankle twisted and facing the completely wrong way and a
n expression of terror as he lay there dead, eyes open facing the woman who had inevitably caused his death.

She began to scream uncontrollably until she found a young man stood next to her, Ross.

"Oh dear, call an ambulance," the woman held onto Ross as she spoke.

"Look's like he is dead,
" Ross replied.

"Oh my God, it's my fault. Please call an ambulance!"

Ross ran up to his flat to use the phone. He was in disbelief and also he felt like he was dreaming. He had wished his Father dead all this time and it had finally happened without him having to lay a finger on him.

That's karma for you,
he thought to himself.

He dialled...

"Ambulance please, a man has fallen down the stairs in my building. I think he is dead," he smiled as he spoke.