KILL ME IF YOU CAN (Dave Cunane Book 8) (33 page)

‘You’ve no right to do this,’ she sobbed when the big man carried her close to his chest like a struggling infant.

‘And you’ve got the right to spy and steal, have you?’ I snarled, when we installed her in the kitchen. She seemed especially terrified of Clint so I sent him out.

I made her sit down while Lee and Tony stood guard over her but she’d got her nerve back and I wanted to keep her off balance.

I took a deep breath.

‘Watch her,’ I ordered and went upstairs to the bathroom in my room. My jeans and t-shirt felt frowsty and my whole body was sticky with dried sweat. I stripped and shaved carefully then took a long shower running the water as hot as I could bear it.

I’d noticed previously that Bob favoured Calvin Klein toiletries and had the full range in large quantities and now I liberally applied men’s all-over body wash and shampoo. Then I slapped on the after shave and eau de cologne. When I left that bathroom I was a clean and fresh man.

My choice of clothes was not extensive. I’d renovated the black leather shoes which had been ruined during the escape along the canal bank and I had the charcoal Austin Reed suit. There was also a pair of clean jeans and a fresh t-shirt.

Fothergill was expecting to be confronted by a gangster. It might help to refute that image of me she was cultivating if I was formally dressed. So Austin Reed it was. I had a reasonable shirt and rooted through Bob’s wardrobe for a wearable tie.

I brushed my hair carefully and examined the result in Tammy’s full length mirror. Yes, Dave Cunane was back, the old charmer. All I had to do now was get to the bottom of what was going on in my former receptionist’s confused mind.

Simple.

It was after 5 a.m. when I went downstairs and the atmosphere in the kitchen had subtly changed. Tony now seemed more like Fothergill’s companion than her captor. Lee still looked hostile.

‘Have you been talking to her?’ I asked.

‘It was nothing,’ Tony said quickly. I could tell he was lying.

‘She’s a liar and a thief and you need to be careful with the likes of her.’

‘Is it lying and stealing to collect evidence about a criminal?’ she yelled. ‘Anyway, you’re going to kill me whatever I say.’

‘Bitch!’ Lee snarled, removing the bloody handkerchief he’d clamped over his face for a moment. She’d really done a job on his nose. ‘We let your freaky friend with the big knife go but someone’s going to pay for what you’ve done.’

He brandished the knife he’d taken off Osman and mimed cutting his throat. What with the dried blood all over his mug and neck and the crazed expression it was a convincing act.

Fothergill slumped forward.

Tears began forming in her eyes.

I wasn’t impressed.

‘I told him not to bring that with him but Somali men don’t feel dressed unless they’re carrying a knife.’ she said in a quavering voice.

She gave Lee a look of supplication then put her head in her hands and began sobbing bitterly. Her body shook.

Clever actress or frightened woman, I knew what my theory was, but her melodramatics had an immediate effect on Lee.

His bloodthirsty fury evaporated.

First he hid the dagger behind his back and as the heart wringing sobs showed no sign of abating, he put it in a cupboard. Then he held his hands up in front of Fothergill to show he had no evil intent.

Brilliant, one pout from those pretty lips and he’s a no-show.

Trust me to employ the one thug in Manchester with severe qualms about threatening people, even people who richly deserved to be threatened.

‘That’s enough, Lee,’ I said. ‘Wash your face.’ 

Whether Fothergill was watching through her fingers or genuinely recovering from her fright I don’t know but the sobbing and heaving subsided.

‘I can’t do this, Boss,’ Lee whispered in my ear. ‘It’s inhuman. If you’re going to chain her up in the cellar and beat her up you’ll have to do it without me.’

‘Wash your face,’ I repeated, pushing him away. He grabbed a wet cloth off the sink and stood by the back door wiping his face.

I followed him.

‘When we were at Shudehill, Lee, you wanted me to shoot this woman’s boyfriend in cold blood so don’t come over all gooey on me now.’

‘That was different. He’s a killer and he has it coming.’

‘Different because he’s a bloke and she’s a fit looking woman?’

He shrugged and I turned away from him.

Tony had also beaten a retreat. He was now sitting at the kitchen island, with his head in a book and pretending to tune out the scene around him.

That left me.

‘All right,
Miss Fothergill
, or whoever you are, don’t phone us, we’ll phone you if you’ve got the part in our soap opera,’ I said sarcastically. ‘I don’t buy all this. You tricked me and bugged me for three months. You’re no sob sister and I’m no killer. All I want from you is the truth. Give it me and you can go on your way. We’ll start with your real name.’

‘That’s none of your business.’

‘The sooner you give me the truth the quicker we can finish this little drama you’re enjoying so much.’

She shook her head and shut her lips.

Clint came in at that precise moment, pretending that he needed a drink of water. Actually he’d heard me coming downstairs and was just being nosy. In his obliging way with women, he turned and smiled warmly at Fothergill. She started trembling. No pouting for Clint. There’s nothing sinister about Clint’s smile, quite the reverse, but all those teeth in that gaunt face broke her resolve.

‘Pauline Milner,’ she said in a low voice.

‘Why did you pull your stunt with Lakesha Uhura and the Office Temp Agency?’

‘She had the right qualifications for a job with you. I didn’t.’

‘You mean you’re unqualified for office work?’

‘No, I’m overqualified. I have a good degree in business studies and I’m doing an MBA. That crummy Agency wouldn’t have sent me out on routine work.’

That rang true. She’d certainly been in a class of her own as a receptionist.

‘Why did you want a job in my office apart from the obvious reason that you’re a spy?’

‘I’m not a spy.’

‘You had an electronic recorder under your desk and a bug in my office.’

‘Oh, that!’

‘Yes!’

She thought for a moment.

‘I do occasional part time work for a firm of solicitors, GKY. They had an important client who wanted to check up on what you were up to. They arranged for Lakesha to get the job and switch with me. She was well paid for a few hours of her time and she gave me a quick course on being a receptionist. I was shown what to do with the recorder and I delivered the information to their office. I never listened to any of it myself so I don’t know your filthy secrets and you don’t need to kill me. I was told to keep very quiet and not be inquisitive so you’d have no excuse to fire me and it worked. I kept my eyes to myself and said nothing and you didn’t fire me. In fact I think you mistook me for a piece of furniture.’

‘The one thing I didn’t mistake you for was a spy.’

She was seated, I was standing and I was tired and the Glock was digging a hole in the base of my spine. I pulled the gun out.

Fothergill/Milner jumped in fright.

‘Sorry,’ I said. ‘It isn’t loaded.’

I pointed at the ceiling and pulled the trigger. Click.

It didn’t make any difference. Her eyes were bulging with terror.

‘He isn’t a killer,’ Tony volunteered. ‘He’s a genuine private detective.’

‘That’s what you think,’ she said bitterly. ‘I know differently.’

My patience was wearing very thin.

‘Who was the mystery client?’

‘They wouldn’t tell me but I found out his name when you murdered him.’

‘Are you mental?’

‘It was that old man who came to your office on Monday. I recognised his voice because he spoke to me on the phone at GKY when I took the job. It was such a cultured voice, one you wouldn’t forget. I wouldn’t have taken the job if he hadn’t reassured me that it was all quite above board. He sounded very distinguished. He said he needed to confirm something about you for a most important reason and that what I was doing wasn’t strictly illegal but he couldn’t explain. It was obvious to me that he wanted to break some sort of hold you had over him.’

I struggled to grasp what she was saying.

‘You think I killed Sir Lew Greene?’

‘That’s exactly what you did.’

‘He was my godfather and my cousin,’ I protested weakly. This was turning into a nightmare.

‘Did you think for a moment I was taken in by that little act you both put on for my benefit? As if he was your godfather, it’s ridiculous. How could a man like that be connected to a crook like you? I looked him up in Who’s Who and there was no mention of any Cunanes. You were blackmailing him and that notebook he left in the safe was the proof.’

There was whisky on the counter. I found a glass, poured myself a slug and downed it in one. I was shaken.

35

Friday: early hours

I pulled up a chair and sat down opposite Fothergill/Milner at the small kitchen table. I may have been scowling. If I was, it was only to be expected. This woman had shared my office for months and all that time she’d believed I was a dangerous criminal.

As for charming the truth out of her I might as well have tried to charm a hungry tiger out of eating me. The only time she’d opened up was when she thought poor soft Clint was going to knock nine bells out of her.

I looked into her blue eyes. She stared back defiantly.

‘Sir Lew Greene really was my godfather,’ I rasped. ‘Have I to go and get the photos of my christening?’

She shook her head.

‘It would just be more lies.’

‘Where’s the notebook you stole?’

‘You’ll kill me if I tell you.’

‘For the last time I’m not a killer but you are a thief and don’t think I don’t know how you found the safe combination.’

‘Lakesha showed me how to do that,’ she said without a blush. ‘She’d seen the safe through your window and she said no-one who hadn’t got plenty to hide would have something like that. It was just as well because that was where you put the notebook you were using to blackmail poor Sir Lew.’

‘Blackmail? You really are mental. I’ve already told you Lew was my godfather. There’s nothing I could possibly have blackmailed him about even if I’d wanted to.’

‘You were blackmailing him,’ she said triumphantly. ‘I heard you shouting about it. Those walls are thin. You said you used blackmail, bribery and wiretaps and then you said you’d gone on to blackmail in one easy move. I wrote it down, one easy move. It stuck in my mind. And I definitely heard you say you were a professional killer.’

This time the civilised veneer came right off. I slammed my hands down on the table top.

‘I said
he’d
gone on to blackmail in one easy move,’ I roared, ‘
He
wanted me to kill someone.’

Fothergill jumped in fright and let out a little whimper. I knew she was acting but Lee sidled up to the table. Before he could open his mouth to accuse me of crimes against humanity I pointed to the back door. He moved away.

‘Like the nasty little Keyhole Kate you are, you got the story back to front. I don’t want to upset my chivalrous young friend over there but I’m getting seriously pissed off with you.’

She gave another little whimper of pretended fear.

‘Where’s the notebook you stole on Monday?’ I asked. It was hard to grasp that all this kicked off less than a week ago.

‘If I tell you what’s to stop you killing me? That notebook’s the only thing that’s keeping me alive because you know if it’s found it’ll prove you’re a blackmailer and killer.’

I felt as if I’d been kicked in the stomach. Lee was right. If we went on like this I’d end up slapping her around in sheer frustration.

I stepped across to the hall and summoned Clint, my ultimate sanction. If it hadn’t been so serious it would have been funny. She apparently believed that Clint, friend of animals and protector of women, was capable of wringing her neck.

He came in quickly. I could see he was still peeved about being excluded.

‘Clint, I want you to stand in this doorway like one of the Queen’s soldiers on guard at Buckingham Palace.’

‘Yes, Dave,’ he said with a smile as wide as the Atlantic on his gaunt face.

‘No one is to leave this room. Not her,’ I said, pointing, ‘not Tony and not Lee: no-one is to leave. Do you understand?’

‘Yes, Dave, that’s easy.’

‘Whatever they say you don’t let them go out. It’s dangerous out there. Those bad men may be waiting.’

He nodded and folded his arms across his chest.

‘You can count on me, Dave.’

‘I knew I could. I’ll be in the garden so no one will go out that way either.’

I went to the backdoor and took a gulp of cool morning air. I stood for some minutes practicing deep breathing. When my pulse returned to normal I turned to face them.

Lee and Tony looked like a pair of actors who’d just found themselves in leading roles in the world’s very worst play. Fothergill/Milner was cowering with her head in her hands like one of Henry the Eighth’s wives waiting for the axe to fall.

‘This has got to end, one way or another,’ I said in a sepulchral voice. ‘This is what we’ll do.’ 

My assistants exchanged frightened stares as if I was about to order them to dig a mass grave.

‘You two seem to be on the same wavelength as this lunatic. I’ll give you some time to talk sense into her head. You’ve got to convince her that she’s completely wrong about me. I am not a blackmailer and murderer. I’ve never killed anyone except in self defence which is what put some completely wrong ideas in Sir Lew’s head. Lee, please lend me some tobacco and Rizla papers. I’m going out for a smoke and when I come back I want to know where that notebook is or I can’t be responsible for the consequences.’

The soft-hearted little scally began fumbling in his pockets. In the end he made two roll-ups for me. As I left Tony looked at me and nodded his head. A flash of that scary intellect appeared on his face.

‘Fifteen minutes,’ I said and slammed the door shut as I went out.

It was years since I’d smoked but it’s like riding a bicycle. The mild Virginia smoke slid into my lungs and I tried to relax by thinking of my children sleeping peacefully at Lough Gara. I was tempted to phone Jan but a call in the early hours was sure to send her to the airport for the next plane to Manchester, not a good idea.

Instead I sent a text to Marvin on Aunty Velmore’s phone asking him to check if charges for the spying operation appeared on Lew’s accounts from GKY, the giant law firm he’d also chosen to transact his will. There had to be a paper trail and it would be nice to know if I was still paying to be spied on.

If I was, Marvin could refuse payment on grounds of illegality and dob them in to the Law Society if he liked.

Thank you very much Uncle Lew.

My anger flared. This was ‘déjà vu all over again’. Hadn’t I once before paid wages to a bunch of employees who were betraying me? I tried to swim back against the tide of self-pity but it was hard. People laugh at post traumatic stress but it’s real.

I went in.

Clint was still at attention by the kitchen door. Fothergill/Milner, Lee and Tony were seated at the table drinking coffee, all very matey.

‘It’s all right, Dave,’ Tony said quickly. ‘Pauline knows she got it all wrong about you and that’s your Uncle Lew’s fault.’

‘Yeah, he gave her the wrong slant on things,’ Lee seconded. ‘I think he was really checking you out, Boss.’

‘It could be,’ I agreed. ‘That explains the spying but not why she stole the notebook.’

‘It’s like this,’ Tony explained, ‘thinking the worst of you and the best of him when she heard all that about murder and blackmail she naturally thought it was you saying it.’

‘Can’t she speak for herself?’

‘What he’s saying is right,’ Milner said in a low voice. ‘I did think it was you but now, after what Tony’s said I think I might have jumped to conclusions.’

‘Thanks a bunch! Why did you take the notebook?’

‘When you came out and caught me with Who’s Who open at Sir Lew’s entry I was terrified. I thought you’d found me out and after what I’d heard I was sure you’d want to kill me. I almost ran then but that would have raised your suspicions so I waited until the end of the day. I had to hide from you. I’d met a friend at a salsa dancing class at Boxers Night Club.’

‘Osman,’ I muttered.

Boxers is one of Bob Lane’s clubs.

‘Yes, he’d already suggested that I move in with him. Osman knows all about hiding. He came here on a student visa … ’

‘But he’s overstayed and now he’s an illegal immigrant?’ I interjected. ‘So if you marry him he has a chance of legal status?’

She pursed her lips and nodded.

His illegal status would explain why he hadn’t screamed for the police when we collared him at Shudehill Interchange.

‘Then we heard that you were paying people to find me so Osman got the Islamic costume from a friend and I wore it when I had to go out but you still found me.’

‘But it was more than Islamic costume wasn’t it? Are you an Islamic jihadi?’

She laughed.

‘You’ve got it all wrong. My parents are Methodists and I still go to church.’

‘Good for you but you were hanging out with a bunch of Islamic militants when we found you.’

‘They’re not militants; they’re just ordinary Somali Muslims. They were celebrating Osman’s cousin’s wedding to another cousin. It’s a clan thing. The wedding was the day before yesterday but the celebrations go on for days. They’ll probably still be at it next week. Osman doesn’t really approve of the traditional ways.’

‘Go on.’

‘Osman isn’t as deep into Islam as they are. He hasn’t been to mosque since he arrived in England.’

‘That would be why he was wearing an Islamic crocheted hat and carrying a ruddy big dagger when we met him, would it?’

‘The knife was to protect me and he wears the hat, the kufi, to convince his uncle Mansuur that he’s still a loyal Muslim. He’s been dependent on Mansuur since he overstayed his visa.’

‘OK, let’s skip Osman’s life history. Where’s the notebook you stole?’

‘Yeah, er, Boss,’ Tony broke in, ‘we’ve been talking about that. Pauline still isn’t absolutely certain that you have her best interests at heart.’

‘That’s right Tony, victims of robbery rarely think well of thieves. You should know that.’

‘There’s no need to be sarcastic, Dave. Pauline’s admitted that she hid the notebook in your office.’

‘Sounds likely!’

‘She doesn’t have it on her. We made her turn out all her bags and everything. So I believe her.’

‘And I should entrust the lives of my children to your judgement Tony?’

‘You’ve already trusted your own life to it,’ he said.

There was no answer to that.

‘The deal is this. If you allow us to take her to the office she’ll show us where the notebook is and then we’ll let her go and bring back the notebook.’

‘Nice! The minute you’re out of this house she’ll cut loose and tell the police she’s been kidnapped. She’s got you just where she wants you. I’m coming with you.’

‘Dave, a word in private please,’ Tony said pushing back his chair and advancing towards me. He put his arm on my shoulder and steered me to the backdoor. Was I now under the control of the reconditioned brain?

‘Listen,’ he said in a low voice, ‘I know it’s rubbish but Pauline really believes that if she gets in that car with you she’ll be making her last journey. She thinks you’ll shoot her in the head when you get the book.’

‘That is rubbish.’

‘Dave, it’s not what I believe. It’s what she believes. You were really cold to her when she worked with you and she’s convinced herself that if not actually a killer you could be.’

I seethed. I wanted that notebook so badly that I was almost ready to kill for it, almost but not quite.

I turned to face ‘Pauline Milner’, an identity that was as dissonant as the note a cracked bell to me.

‘All right, luvvie,’ I said in a fruity Manchester accent, ‘I’m considering the plan my friends have come up with. You see they sympathise with criminals because they’re ex-criminals themselves. I don’t and I’ve never been a criminal so you need to convince me that you won’t be down at the cop shop screaming kidnap as soon as these two let you go.’ 

‘I won’t go to the police because Osman will lose any chance of gaining UK residence if they find he’s been involved in theft. Let me go and you’ll get your precious notebook back. Anyway, I couldn’t lead the police to you because I don’t know where this house is.’

Two reasons: one so-so and one good. It was true that she hadn’t seen much on the journey to Altrincham.

I looked at her. It was the same expressionless face I’d seen across the reception desk at Pimpernel for weeks. What was she: a mistaken fool or a master spy? Whatever she was, she was a lot cooler than she’d been earlier.

My hunger to have that notebook in my hand was intense and it was true that I’d already entrusted my life to Tony Nolan and his reconditioned brain. Still, there was always Bob’s cellar. I could demand that she tell them where the notebook was stashed and lock her in there until her two admirers brought the book back. The drawback was that I’d lose whatever trust and credit I currently had with Tony and Lee.

I didn’t need a reconditioned brain to work that one out.

‘OK, I agree to your arrangement Tony, but with one modification. Clint goes with you and if she doesn’t hand over the notebook he brings her back.’

We all looked at Clint, whose eyes gleamed with satisfaction.

Tony then turned to Lee who nodded his head. To my satisfaction neither consulted ‘Pauline’.

‘OK by me, Boss,’ Lee agreed.

‘And Miss Fothergill, and you’ll always be Miss Fothergill to me, you can look on this trip to the suburbs as a belated leaving ‘do’ from Pimpernel Investigations. I don’t want to see you again and just to make sure that you don’t know where this house is do you mind wearing your hijab over your face as a blindfold? It’s not that I don’t trust you but you know what they say… once bitten, twice shy?’