Reckoning (12 page)

Mikey’s smile broadened. “I love the way you talk.”

“I have the soul of a poet,” she grinned back. “But seriously, don’t let him wind you up. Leighton tried every psychological trick he could think of to get me to either release him or put him out of his misery and I let him burrow in deep. Don’t let Jake do the same to you.”

“So that’s why you’ve changed so much since he died?”

“How do you mean?”

“We’ll you’re sort of…nicer, more likeable, in a deranged nymphomaniac sort of way.”

“Is that meant to be a compliment?”

“Yeah. A big one.”

“Aw, sweet,” she said, patting his hand.

He grabbed her hand and gently held it for a moment as her grey eyes locked with his questioningly. When he realised what he was doing he released her, scrambling to bring Amber to the forefront of his mind. “I just meant you’re a good cousin,” he hastily added.

“Oh,” she said, casting her eyes to the tabletop. “Yeah, you too.” She looked up, forcing a smile. “I don’t want a toyboy anyway thank you. So, did you make your decision about Jake?”

“Decision?”

“Whether he lives or dies,” she said quietly.

Mikey’s stomach lurched. “Why do you say that?”

“Because that’s the main reason you went to see him, even if you haven’t admitted it to yourself. I know because that was what I tried to decide every time I visited Leighton. Life would have been so much easier without him around but I could never bring myself to break that bond, until you did it for me and I’m so glad you did.”

Mikey looked down into his coffee and nodded. “You’re right.”

“And what did you decide?”

“I don’t know,” he sighed. “It just made me more confused.”

“Or you don’t want to admit the truth to yourself.”

Mikey didn’t reply because he simply didn’t know what to say.

“I’m not going to say it for you Mikey, only you can decide on this but if you need me to, I can do it for you.”

“Jesus Jules,” he mumbled, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that. You’re not ready to hear it yet.”

Mikey didn’t reply, too occupied by the niggling deep in his gut that was telling him she was right.

“Tell me about them,” she suddenly said.

“Who?”

“Frank and Martina Maguire and Danny, the family. I never had the chance to know them, except for Alex and I never liked him.”

“Do you want to know about Terry?”

Terry Maguire, Frank’s younger brother, was her biological father. He’d sold her to Alice and Leighton Parker knowing they would abuse her. She’d been the one to kill him in his hospital bed after he’d tried to kill Rachel and Danny and Alex had taken the credit to get himself back in Danny’s good books after he’d sided with Terry. A fact they’d only learnt after Alex’s death.

“You’d have loved Martina,” he began, breaking into a smile at the memory of the diminutive, fiery and very maternal woman Alex had so cruelly murdered. “She’d have seen past all your prickly ways and welcomed you into the fold. She was like a second mum to me. After I was released from the secure unit she was the only one willing to give me a chance, apart from Rachel. She was the only one who visited me there too, except Jake, who came once to gloat.”
Just like I did today,
he thought. “Frank would have taken a bit longer to come round to you, just like he did to me and Rach, but he would have because you’re blood, that meant a lot to him and when he did he would have fought the world for you. He could be a big scary bastard but he had a good heart. He was old school, he had integrity. Men like him are a dying breed. Danny would have been standoffish with you too, like his dad, but Rachel likes you so he would have come round, he trusted her judgement absolutely.”

“Was Rachel different when she was with Danny?”

“No, she’s too strong to let herself be ruled by a man but she is happier with Ryan. They’re made for each other.”

Jules nodded. “I think you’re right.”

“Frank was scared of Martina,” he smiled.

“Seriously?” grinned Jules. “I can’t imagine the great Frank Maguire being scared of anyone.”

“He wasn’t, except her. He loved her so much he couldn’t stand her disapproval, so he always did his best to please her.” Mikey was enjoying talking about his relatives, he had so few left, which he knew was why he was reluctant to kill Jake. “She could reduce him to jelly with a single look.”

Jules’s laugh, so rarely heard, made Mikey smile and he launched into several anecdotes, all of which were light-hearted about Frank and Martina’s frequent but not very serious spats. They enjoyed another two cups of coffee while they talked, Jules prompting for more information when required. It was nice for her to know that some of her family had been a real family, had laughed and celebrated together. For just a little while she felt normal.

“I wish I’d known them,” she said wistfully.

“I wish I’d had more time with them,” said Mikey. “When I think of all those years wasted locked up for something I didn’t do all thanks to Jake.”

Jules gave him a meaningful look when he screwed his fist up angrily.

“I’ve got to go,” he said, getting to his feet. “Thanks for the coffee and, you know, being there.”

“You’re welcome,” she replied.

Jules watched him leave, a plan forming in her mind.

CHAPTER 13

Shane didn’t know what to do. He was still watching Estelle Law’s flat in the hope that something would happen to give him an excuse to call Ryan. He’d asked him to keep a watch and let him know if there was any unusual activity with regards to his mum and Shane had daily prayed for something to happen just so he could call him again and prove how capable he was to this man who was a living legend. Nothing had happened except Estelle’s usual routine of going to the pub, getting pissed and staggering back home with some bloke who would give her drugs in exchange for sex, waking up at lunchtime the next day and repeating the same process. It was a wonder she was still alive.

However today everything had changed and a big blond bastard Shane recognised but couldn’t place had entered Estelle’s flat almost an hour ago followed by two heavies and they still hadn’t come out. What if they’d killed Estelle or were torturing her? He was almost hopping with worry, wondering whether he should call Ryan when the three men finally emerged, looking calm and collected and not as though they’d just committed bloody murder.

While the two heavies had a discussion about who had the keys to their Lexus, Shane managed to pick up from their accents that they weren’t local boys and it suddenly clicked with Shane where he’d seen the big blond man before. However he wanted to double check before he called Ryan. He wouldn’t be impressed with incorrect information.

Finally the heavies found the keys and the three men got into the car and drove off. Shane was about to jog up to Estelle’s flat to make sure she was okay when her door opened and she ran out, pulling on her fake leather jacket, tripping over her high heels in her eagerness while stuffing a big wad of cash into her jacket pocket. Shane scowled at her as she descended the stairs and rushed off in the direction of the pub. She’d just been paid for something and judging by the look of those men - the blond one had been really good looking - it wasn’t sex, which was all Estelle had to offer. Why would three southerners come to Nottingham to shag a nasty, wrinkled old tom? The only other thing she had to give was information - about her sons.

“Shit,” he said, rushing back to his parents’ flat.

“Hello sweetheart, you back for tea?” called his mum as he dashed through the front door and into his bedroom.

“Yeah, just give me a few minutes. I have to phone someone,” he called back over his shoulder.

He rushed into his room, shut the door and locked it. His mum had the annoying habit of walking in without knocking, so he’d installed the lock personally after she’d caught him enjoying a private moment with his magazines. He’d been unable to look her in the eye for weeks after that one.

Diving under his bed, he pulled out his gangster scrapbook and dumped it on the bed to flick through. There were plenty of stories about Ryan and Rachel, Alex Maguire’s disappearance and his brother Danny’s death. There were other gangsters in there too from across the country, including Toni McVay and her notorious brother, Frankie. Idly Shane wondered if the rumours about his axe were true.

“Focus Shane,” he told himself, turning the page sporting Frankie’s gurning face after he was caught by surprise by a photographer outside court. Finally he found the big blond man near the back. Jared Slattery from the infamous Slattery clan in Essex. What interest could someone in Essex have in the Laws? Still, it wasn’t up to him to puzzle that one out.

Heart pounding, he took out his phone and summoned up the courage to call Ryan Law.

“Kirsty, Valentine, how nice of you to join us,” said Ryan pleasantly, getting to his feet to welcome the Hallidays.

Rachel smiled inwardly. They’d never guess that inside Ryan was raging about their lies. The Hallidays looked relaxed bordering on smug as they took their seats. She couldn’t wait to see their faces when they realised they’d been rumbled.

“We arranged to be seated in the private room so we could talk without risk of being overhead,” said Ryan genially. “I’m sure we all want this conversation kept between the four of us.”

“Yes, quite right,” said Valentine, a prematurely grey, overweight man with a permanently red face that made everyone who met him fear he was on the verge of a heart attack.

They made small talk as the waiters brought them their drinks. Once they’d left and closed the door behind them, Rachel said, “I’ve explained things to Ryan, so we don’t need to go over old ground.”

“Very efficient of you Mrs Law,” said Valentine, confident in the knowledge that what he wanted had already been granted. “We’ve been meaning to come and eat here ever since you took it over. It used to be in a shocking state, the last owners didn’t have a clue how to run a restaurant. We hear your chef is Michelin-starred?”

“He is,” replied Rachel before taking a sip of white wine.

“I’m really looking forward to tasting the food,” he said, already placing his napkin on his lap.

“How can you talk like this Valentine?” said Kirsty angrily. “We’re here to discuss poor Gloria.”

“Oh yes, quite right,” he said, dropping the smile.

“There’s just one point we’re not clear on,” said Ryan. “What exactly do you want to happen to Billy Whitelock?”

“Surely you don’t need us to spell it out?” said Valentine.

“Actually we do. We need to be absolutely sure we’re on the same page. If we’re not then things could get very messy indeed.”

“I want him gone, out of our daughter’s life,” said Kirsty with surprising vehemence. “He’s going to drag her down, ruin her. What sort of life is she going to have tied to that?”

“Kirsty’s right,” added Valentine. “The boy’s a menace. I’m sure you already know why?”

Neither Rachel nor Ryan replied.

“We want him out of our lives and out of our daughter’s life,” said Kirsty.

“So what are you saying?” said Ryan.

“We want him beaten within an inch of his life,” said Kirsty. “I want every bone in his body broken so he gets the message loud and clear - he is not welcome at our house and he’s not to go near Gloria again. I want all the bones in both hands broken too so he can never touch her again.”

Rachel and Ryan, who had seen a lot of savagery in their time, were shocked by the savagery in Kirsty’s eyes. She had always seemed so prim and proper. Rachel wondered if she was a psychopath, she’d met plenty of those in her time too and she understood all too well how good they were at throwing up fronts to the world, Alex Maguire being the prime example. He’d fooled her like no one else ever had.

“Seems a bit harsh,” said Ryan, interrupting Rachel’s thoughts.

“He is not good enough,” said Kirsty, unwittingly confirming Tracey’s theory.

Rachel had finally had enough of this loathsome conversation. It was quite chilling to listen to these outwardly respectable people demanding they half-kill someone simply because they didn’t fit in with their pretensions. “Let’s end this charade right now,” she said.

“What charade?” frowned Kirsty.

“We know Billy’s a decent lad. Yes, he got up to some dodgy stuff when he was younger but he’s turned his life around and he makes your daughter happy. We can find no evidence that he’s nothing but a good guy trying to better himself. He even volunteers at the local dog rescue centre.” Rachel leaned forwards in her chair, eyes turning black. “So why did you lie to us?”

Valentine looked away, embarrassed, unable to meet Rachel’s black eyes or Ryan’s steely grey ones, but Kirsty was defiant.

“He’s a loser,” she hissed. “Gloria could have someone rich and well connected, but no, she’s throwing her beautiful self away on that idiot. He stinks of dogs you know,” she said, as though that alone made him deserve the harsh punishment she wanted doled out.

“So?” said Rachel. “He makes your daughter happy, surely that should be the most important thing?”

“The most important thing is keeping us happy,” said Valentine, recovering his courage. “And you should be working very hard to do that if you want The Tower. If you don’t get rid of Billy for us, I’ll make sure someone else buys that land. There are plenty of people wanting it.”

“Are you blackmailing us?” said Ryan.

“I’m merely trying to encourage you to do the right thing, for everyone,” he said slyly.

“It’s not right for Billy or Gloria,” said Rachel. “Why can’t you just leave them alone?”

“I wasn’t expecting to hear sentiment from someone like you,” said Kirsty, freely revealing her nasty side.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” said Rachel.

“You know what I’m talking about. Why should we use euphemisms? You’re gangsters masquerading as respectable people.”

“And you’re a psychopath masquerading as a respectable person,” said Rachel, voice dripping ice.

“What I’m curious to know is, why come to us?” said Ryan casually, reclining back in his chair. “Why not just hire some local thugs to beat him up? You’ve certainly got the cash to do it.”

“Because coming from you the message would mean so much more,” said Valentine. “He’d be so scared he’d leave the area and never come back. But it would seem we’ve no choice but to turn to someone who doesn’t think so much of themselves. Oh, and by the way, you’re not getting The Tower, I can promise you that,” he ended smugly before nodding at Kirsty. “Come on Dear, let’s go.”

“Sit down,” said Ryan when they both got to their feet. He had a way of being obeyed without having to raise his voice and it worked very well on the Hallidays, who immediately retook their seats.

“This isn’t over. You’ll leave when we say you can leave.”

Valentine swallowed hard as Ryan glared at him. Even Kirsty suddenly looked nervous. Ryan, enjoying their discomfort, leaned forwards in his seat, looking from one to the other. “Do you see that up there?” he said, nodding at the far right corner of the room. “It’s called a camera.”

Kirsty and Valentine both looked up, faces paling.

“It has audio too,” he continued. “It’s captured everything you just said.”

“You can’t do anything with it without incriminating yourselves,” retorted Kirsty.

“Why not? Myself and Rachel have done nothing wrong. You were the ones demanding we beat Billy Whitelock to within an inch of his life and break all the bones in his hands so he can’t touch your daughter again.”

There was a pause as Valentine and Kirsty thought over the conversation.

“You sly, conniving bastards,” spat Kirsty, glaring at them.

“Do you take us for amateurs Kirsty?” said Rachel, finally starting to enjoy the evening. “You’re playing in the big leagues now but it doesn’t look like you’re up to it.”

“This is just low,” said Valentine. “Can’t say I’m surprised, you are criminals after all.”

“Us the criminals?” said Ryan, more amused than angry. “We’re here to enjoy a quiet meal. You were the ones who tried to incite
us
to violence. But we don’t have to justify ourselves to you. Now, here’s what’s going to happen. You will ensure The Tower is sold to us. We want it and you should know that what we want we always get. If we don’t get it then the footage recorded on that camera will be circulated round all the local newspapers, television stations and police stations.”

“You fu…,” began Valentine, turning even more purple.

“I wouldn’t recommend name-calling,” said Ryan, eyes flinty, silencing Valentine’s tirade. “And I’ll be watching over Billy Whitelock. Should a single hair on his head get hurt then the same applies. Everyone will see you for what you really are.” He nodded his head graciously. “Now you may leave.”

Kirsty shot to her feet, snatched up her coat and handbag then stood there, shaking with anger. “And we’ll make sure everyone sees you for what you really are. We’ll have you ostracised from society, we’ll make your lives a living hell.”

“It’s not smart mouthing off to the people who have incriminating footage of you,” said Rachel. “Go away so we can enjoy our meal in peace.”

“You’ve just made a big mistake and powerful enemies.” They were incensed when Rachel and Ryan looked at each other and laughed.

“This isn’t over,” said Kirsty before they both stomped out.

The waiter popped his head round the door. “Are you ready to eat now Mr and Mrs Law?”

“Yes we are,” smiled Ryan, taking Rachel’s hand. “We’ll have a bottle of champagne too, we’ve just pulled off a big business deal.”

“Congratulations. I’ll have everything brought in.”

“That was so much fun,” said Ryan when the waiter had gone. “I do enjoy bringing down pompous fools like them.”

“Kirsty wasn’t making an idle threat. She will do her best to make trouble for us.”

“Rachel, you’ve faced Alex Maguire, Frankie McVay, the Jordans and mad Uncle Terry, not to mention the band of serial killers. Do the Hallidays really faze you?”

“Not at all but I do want life to be normal for a while.”

He kissed her hand. “It will be. The worst is finally behind us, I can feel it.”

They both stared at each other, their hearts sinking when his phone rang. The timing was just too prophetic.

“I’ll ignore it,” he said.

“No, you’d better get it. It might be about the kids.”