For the Sake of the Children: The first Chloe Webster thriller (Chloe Webster Thrillers Book 1) (14 page)

It had been an efficient and productive morning so far. Chloe had cleared a few urgent matters, and that included a call to the local authority to finalise the arrangements for George to stay at his grandmother’s. It was now late morning and the office staff had gathered around the desk of a colleague to congratulate her on reaching her fiftieth birthday, and as the singsong died down and people made their way back to their own desks, Ray slinked over, standing a little too close as usual. The smell of cheap aftershave stuck in the back of her throat.

‘I thought she was pushing sixty to be honest.’

‘Ray, don’t you ever say anything nice about anyone?’ Chloe had learned that it was okay to speak her mind where Ray was concerned. He might get angry if she crossed the line, but he always forgot about their arguments just as quickly as they started; she’d actually found something about him that she liked.

‘Well, just look at her. She’s hardly been looking after herself has she?’ He kept his eyes on the subject of his criticism a little too long before he turned to Chloe. He didn’t seem to notice her frown. ‘Anyway, I’d like you to see one of my clients. It would have been Mr Crawford, but one of his colleagues is coming instead for some reason. I have dealt with him before on the phone, and you can safely carry out any instructions he gives you, so let’s have none of that nonsense that we had before okay?’

‘Ray, is this going to be another of your dodgy deals?’ She stopped, and could tell by the look on his face that the line had been well and truly crossed.

‘Chloe, just do it please. I don’t need to hear this crap every time I ask you to do something.’ He threw a file on her desk and walked off.

Chloe picked it up and looked at the name on the top – Mr Peters. She headed down to reception and approached Gloria without the kind of trepidation she had felt when she first arrived at the firm.

‘Hi Gloria. I’m looking for Mr Peters.’

‘Hello Chloe. I’ve put him in meeting room two.’

‘Thank you.’

Chloe knew not to push the conversation any further, if it could be called a conversation. She was still working on Gloria, and the fact that she no longer received a scowl told her she was making progress.

Mr Peters was a smart, lean-looking man in his thirties, clean shaven but for a well-manicured moustache which travelled just a little too far down each side of his chin for Chloe’s liking. She introduced herself and offered her hand, which he squeezed just a little too hard as he told her how pleased he was to meet her.

What is that on your face?

‘Now then, Miss Webster, I want you to listen very carefully to what I am about to say. Very carefully, do you understand?’ He was well spoken with a hint of a Sheffield accent.

‘Yes, of course, what can I do…?’ She stopped as he put his finger to his lips in the way that a school teacher might to quieten a five year old.

‘Please, don’t speak Miss Webster, just listen. Over the next few weeks I am going to give you instructions to carry out some transactions for me. There are some houses that I want you to buy, and some overseas companies which I want you to set up. There will also be some trusts to create. Money will need to be moved around and other things too, when the time comes.’

Chloe sat there looking across the table in silence. The calm and control in his voice simply added to the menace that was quickly filling the room and surrounding her. The man smiled and continued.

‘I will give you all the details soon. Now you won’t like the nature of some of the things I’m going to ask you to do. You’ll probably think they are the kind of transactions you should report to some authority or other. I’m here to tell you now that you must not do that. I’m not asking you, I’m telling you. If you report these matters, there will be very
grave
consequences for you and your father.’

Chloe wondered if she’d misheard that last part.

Did he just threaten me? Did he just threaten my father?

Peters seemed to notice the look on her face as the realisation of what was happening sunk in. He was clearly expecting a reaction and continued speaking before she had chance to respond.

‘You will of course be shocked by this. I need to know that you understand what I have just said? You are to do what I say, when I say it. Do you understand?’

Chloe had already started to panic. Her heart was racing and she felt like she had to get out of the room. She glanced at the door next to her. How did they know so much about her? They mentioned her father. Not her mother or her family, just her father. How did they
know
that?

‘Try to relax Miss Webster. Do not move and do not call for help. Just stay where you are.’ Mr Peters remained as calm as he had been since he started talking. His voice was steady and ice cold. Emotion was clearly not his thing,

Chloe had little choice but to sit still. Fear meant that her legs would probably not do as she commanded in any case, and she sat staring at the man across the table. All she could think about was her father. Was he okay?

‘I repeat, Miss Webster, do you understand what I have been saying to you?’

She managed to calm herself down enough to speak. ‘I understand. Is my father safe?’

‘Yes. He’s at home. We can find you whenever we need to, so don’t tell him about any of this. Don’t tell anyone about this. Do you understand?’

‘Yes.’ The word only just came out.

He smiled. ‘Good. Now, we are not unreasonable people. You will be well paid for your work, but we do expect absolute loyalty in return. Welcome to the business, Miss Webster.’ He stood up and took a few steps towards the door. Stopping next to where Chloe was sat, he formed a gun shape with his fingers. She looked up at him and he pushed the figurative weapon against her forehead. She was numb with fear.

‘Be under no illusions about what will happen if you don’t comply.’ He removed his hand and left the room.

Chloe stared at the door as it swung slowly shut under its own weight, and then burst into tears.

Chloe couldn’t move. She sat in silence staring at the door, with only the gentle ticking of the wall clock for company. How had this happened? Her world had just been devastated by a man she had never even met before. Images of Crawford and Peters, but also of Ray came to mind. How did he fit into all this? Was he the one who had orchestrated these events? Did he set her up with these people? How could she have left herself so open to this? Feelings of guilt and worry were now gnawing away at her as the questions spun around inside her head. Tears pricked her eyes again as she thought of her father.

Have I really put his life in danger?

She folded her arms on the table and rested her head on top of the makeshift pillow. As she took a deep breath her body shivered. She felt cold despite the room being maintained at a comfortable temperature by the automatic heating system. She closed her eyes and tried to get things clear in her thoughts, but she felt exhausted, and drifted into the deep blackness of sleep.

A gentle tapping at the meeting room door woke her.

‘Hello?’ she said softly, a little confused and wondering how long she had slept.

The door was pushed ajar and Gloria’s face appeared in the gap.

‘You’ve been in here for quite a while. I saw Mr Peters leave and wondered if everything was okay?’ She sounded genuinely concerned.

‘Oh Gloria, thank you so much. I don’t know what to do.’ The tears came again and Gloria stepped inside the room and pulled the door shut behind her. She passed a tissue over to Chloe.

‘Are you okay Chloe? Is there someone I should tell? Shall I go and get Mr Drake?’

‘No! No… thank you Gloria. Not Mr Drake. Could you try and find Ben Howson for me and tell him where I am? I really need to speak to him.’ She saw a look of surprise in Gloria’s eyes, but the receptionist simply nodded and left the room.

Please come, Ben. Please come.

The door opened again before she had chance to think about things any further. Ben knelt down beside her and put his arm around her shoulders.

‘Chloe, what’s the matter? What’s happened? Gloria seemed really worried about you. I was just on my way out when she ran into me.’ The concern on his face made her feel instantly better.

‘I’ve just seen a client. Mr Peters? Do you know him?’

Ben shook his head. ‘I don’t think so. One of Ray’s is he?’

‘Yes, and he threatened me. Said he’d kill me and my dad if I didn’t do what he said.’

‘And what did he want you to do?’

Chloe was taken aback that he thought this was more important than the threat made on her life.

‘Well, nothing yet, but he said he would do over the next few weeks. Property deals, new companies, things like that. Some trust work I think too.’

‘Hardly sounds like master criminals at work,’ he said with a gentle snort.

‘Ben, it’s not funny, he threatened to
kill
me.’

Ben stood up and pulled his arm away from her. He walked across the room and leaned on the back of a chair.

‘Are you sure? You know what Ray’s clients are like. They think they’re something they’re not. Like that Mr Crawford you saw. Why don’t you wait and see if anything actually comes of all this? What else can you do? There’s no point running off to the police now, it’s just your word against his. And imagine what Drake would say?’

Chloe didn’t like what she was hearing but her mind was muddled and she liked Ben and trusted him to help her. He must be giving her good advice. And he’s right, nothing had actually happened yet. Maybe she had misunderstood a very sick joke. She needed time to think.

‘I’m going home, Ben. I don’t feel very well and I need to think things over. Can you let people upstairs know? I’ll be back in tomorrow if anyone is looking for me.’

‘Yes, of course. Will you be okay getting home? Do you want me to run you?’

‘No, I’ll be fine. Thanks anyway. I need to clear my head.’

‘Okay, as long as you’re sure. I really think you might be blowing this out of all proportion you know? Ray’s an idiot, and some of his clients like to bend the rules a bit, but I don’t think it’s anything more sinister than that.’

She didn’t reply. Confusion was making it difficult to decipher the reality from the imagery. Ben placed his hand on her shoulder as he left the room and she shivered. Was it the cold, or something else?

Jez knelt down behind the bar and unlocked the sturdy metal cabinet. The thick steel door scraped open to reveal a small selection of hand guns. The thought of using these against the Kirklands caused him to pause for longer than he might have done. There was little choice. Drabble was right of course; they’d be stupid to go into this meeting unarmed. The Timer had failed to deliver the package, and the Kirklands would be here any minute to collect it. Drabble had shot down any suggestion of calling them and telling them there had been a problem, and he was probably right on that count too; it would be better to look them in the eye and tell them the truth.

But he still felt very uneasy about the whole situation. They’d vouched for the Timer and for good reason; he’d never let them down before. Jez couldn’t help but think he must have run into trouble on the job somewhere. Either that or he didn’t like what he’d found in the truck. And if that was the case they really were in trouble.

He removed two guns from the safe and stood up, admiring the weight of the two pieces. They only had a small stock but what they did have was quality. Drabble never carried himself of course, leaving the dirty work for others to complete as usual.

‘Mickey,’ he shouted, and threw one of the guns over to where Mickey was standing. The younger man caught it in one hand.

‘Fucking hell, Jez. Take a bit of care will you?’

‘Don’t worry, it’s not loaded. Here.’ He threw a clip over and Mickey loaded it in as if it were second nature to him. He brandished the revolver out in front of him, as if pointing it an assailant.

‘I’d like to see them fucking Kirklands try something today. I’ll waste the fucking lot of them.’

‘All right, all right, Mickey. Remember, these are just for back up, in case things get a bit feisty.’ Jez loaded his own gun and pushed it into the back of his jeans.

Mickey tucked his gun in the waistband of his tracksuit out of sight. Never having met the Kirklands, he didn’t really know what to expect, but if their reputation was anything to go on, things could indeed get very tasty.

The door to the club swung open and a huge man strolled in, looking around casually as if he was sizing the place up for something. Mickey couldn’t keep his eyes off the scar which ran the entire length of the man’s face, down across his left eye and back round towards his ear. Bloodthirsty thoughts entered his head as he tried to imagine what had caused it. Four other men came in behind him and took up positions around the snooker hall. One started to knock a few balls about on the nearest snooker table.

‘Good afternoon gentlemen. Is Mr Drabble in?’ said the leader. Like the other men, he was dressed in a dark suit and wearing dark glasses.

Stereotypical, but very effective
, thought Jez.

‘And who the fuck are you lot?’ Mickey blurted out before he caught Jez’s glare.

‘What my friend here means is, welcome to the club Mr Kirkland. And yes, Mr Drabble is here, I’ll give him a shout.’ Jez gave Mickey another look to make sure he knew to behave and retreated behind the bar. He knocked on the office door and opened it a few inches.

‘Stevie Kirkland’s here, boss.’

Drabble had never been scared of anything in his life and he didn’t plan to start now. Having dealt with the Kirklands for many years now, he was confident of smooth-talking his way out of this one. He walked assuredly across to the largest Kirkland and offered his hand. The huge paw that gripped it felt like a vice.

‘Nice to see you Stevie. How’s your old man? I haven’t seen him for a few months. Keeping well is he?’

‘He’s doing all right thank you Mr Drabble. Leaves most of the work to me now. Me and my cousins you know? Have you met them? He nodded towards the four men standing guard around the place, as if Drabble might have missed them.

‘Ah yes, keep it in the family. That’s a very good idea. But then your father always was a shrewd man. Shall we talk in the office?’ He turned as if to lead the way into the back room.

‘No thanks, I’d rather do it out here. In the open, if it’s all the same to you.’

‘Yes, well, whatever. Now listen Stevie, I’m not sure exactly what’s happened, but we don’t have the package yet. The guy who went to fetch it is as reliable as they come, so there’s no need for panic. He’ll be here in the next couple of days I’m sure. He’s probably just lying low for a bit, but we’ll find him.’

Stevie stood there in silence, the slightest smirk developing across his face. He took in the surroundings of the club, pausing to look at Mickey and Jez, making both men feel instantly uneasy. Eventually returning his gaze to Drabble, he spoke very matter-of-factly, which only served to make his words more menacing.

‘You know you’d be dead by now if you weren’t a friend of my father’s don’t you?’

Mickey moved his hand around the back of his trousers and felt for the gun.

‘Don’t bother son,’ said Stevie, as his four cousins all pulled out sawn-off shotguns from their suits and pointed them at Drabble. ‘You’ve got one week, Mr Drabble. Then we’ll be back for the package. Please make sure you have it by then.’

Drabble knew to show no sign of fear. ‘Come on Stevie son, why the threats? Why don’t I give your old man a call and sort this out?’

‘Like I said, he leaves it to me now. He’s retired, so leave him out of this. One week, and that’s generous.’

As they made their way out of the hall, Jez was sure he heard Drabble breathe a sigh of relief.

It was over, at least for now.