Crow Bait (29 page)

But she could hear him now, his booted feet not being sliced and torn on the uneven ground. She could hear him pounding closer and she shot another glance back. He was there but he was still unsteady, so she’d hurt him worse than she thought. Good, she thought. But he was still gaining so she ignored the pain, ignored the blood oozing from the many tiny cuts and gouges on her soles and ankles and forced her legs to move faster because she could see a partially tarred rise ahead, leading to the harbour, more sheds like the one she’d escaped from and the safety she felt certain that lay beyond. The wind swept across the sand, whipping loose grains up and creating a fine mist at ground level. Seabirds and black crows were sheltering from the gale here but she ran through them, putting them up in a scramble of wings and screeches. They flapped around her body and head, unable to get much higher because of the weather. Waving her arms around her to keep them at bay, she powered through the flurry of black and white before stumbling onto the pathway and limping towards the crest, the wind easing as the huge red wall across the small harbour stood guard against the elements.

Audrey forced herself up the slight incline, her strength all but spent but she really thought she’d make it, really thought she’d get there, really thought she’d pulled it off.

But she hadn’t.

He grabbed her just as she reached the sheds at the top, just as she could see the line of neat bungalows and the stretch of grass before them and the beach continuing southwards beyond the harbour.

And she could see the two figures racing towards her and her heart leaped as she recognised Davie and Les. She was about to cry out to them, to wave her arms, to tell them she was here when she felt her head being jerked back as Danny McCall grabbed her by the hair and dragged her closer to him. He buried his face into her ear and breathed, ‘Nice try, darling.’ He reached down with his other hand and snatched the hoe from her grasp, tossing it aside. Then he pulled both her wrists together and clamped them in an iron grip.

She struggled but it didn’t do any good, he had too firm a hold. He pressed something cold and hard against her throat and whispered, ‘Don’t make me do it, hen.’ She didn’t know what was biting into the soft flesh of her neck but she knew it was sharp. So she forced herself to remain immobile, her eyes fixed on Davie and on Les, who was holding onto the pocket of his jacket as he ran, clearly something heavy in there. But then she was looking only at Davie, who was the faster of the two and he slowed down a few feet away, his face immobile as he came to a halt.

Then she heard Danny McCall breathe the word ‘Shit’, and she knew this was not part of his plan at all.

33

DAVIE COULD SENSE
that Les Fraser wanted to lunge at his father but the time was not right. He held out his right hand to slow the detective down and, thankfully, the guy did as he was told. Davie saw the terror in Audrey’s green eyes and wanted to reach out to her. He glanced at her feet, at the blood streaming from tiny cuts, and his anger began to swell. But he kept it in, kept his expression blank, kept his eyes on his father from then on. An uneasy feeling had crept through him as he saw the carpet knife dimple the skin at Audrey’s throat, but he took some comfort from the cautious look on Danny McCall’s face. He had not expected to see him. Not yet.

Danny McCall looked over Audrey’s shoulder straight at his son, his eyes beginning to dance with something close to amusement. ‘So you found me, eh, son?’

Davie contemplated not responding but felt it was better to start some kind of dialogue. ‘It was easy.’

Danny raised an eyebrow then flicked his gaze to Les. ‘You’re the husband, right?’

Fraser wasn’t in the mood for chatting. His voice was low, his lips stretched tight as he spoke. ‘Let her go, fucker.’

Danny gave him a disdainful sneer but Fraser was not going to be ignored. The next thing Davie knew, there was a gun in the cop’s hand. ‘I said, let her go.’

Davie had no idea where the weapon had come from, but he knew it would do no good. His father stepped even closer to Audrey, his body concealed by hers, only part of his face visible behind her head. She struggled but stiffened as he tightened his grip. ‘Crack shot, are you, son?’

Les’s hand wavered slightly, even though he had steadied it with his left.

‘You’ve not thought this through, have you?’ Danny said, smiling, but keeping Davie in his sights. ‘You sure you’d get me?’

‘Let her go,’ said Les, but his voice trembled.

Danny gave him a dismissive shake of the head, while still watching Davie. ‘Chuck it away before you hurt someone.’ It was only when Les failed to move that Danny glared at him, while simultaneously pressing the blade harder against Audrey’s throat. ‘Do it.’

Les shot a glance at Davie, who gave him a brief nod. The gun was no good here. Les looked back to Danny and Audrey, exhaled with a ragged sigh, then threw the gun to his right, where it landed among some tall grass.

Danny McCall smiled as he stepped out from behind Audrey and looked back at Davie. ‘Needed a hand, eh, son? Disappointing, that.’

Davie remained silent, refusing to be goaded. He was convinced his father was on the back foot. Not only had he not expected to see Davie in Ballantrae, he was unhappy with the idea that he was not alone. He knew that Mulvey was gone but he didn’t know that he had talked. For the first time Davie felt he had something like an upper hand. Now, if he could just get Audrey away from him...

‘So what now, son?’ Danny said. ‘We stand like this for the rest of the day?’ He looked around the sky. ‘It’ll be really dark soon.’

Davie wanted to finish it, there and then, but it was too risky, not with that carpet knife at Audrey’s throat. He needed to get closer. And there were things he needed to know first. ‘Why’d you do it?’

‘Do what?’

‘Everything.’

Danny McCall’s face creased as he thought about this. ‘Why not?’

‘Why now? You’ve been watching me for years.’

Danny’s eyes widened. ‘You’ve been in the house?’

Davie nodded. ‘You were back in the city before Joe was killed.’

‘Only a few times, didn’t want to risk that old bastard catching me. Just wanted to keep up to date on my boy, you know? I saw you fight Boyle that night, you didn’t see me. I saw you with him and another lad, wee while before that, in Duke Street. Thought he was going to do for you then…’

Davie thought back. He hadn’t seen anyone when he and Clem Boyle tangled for the last time but then he had other things on his mind that night. The other encounter, along with Jazz Sinclair, had taken place a few nights before. Davie ran it over in his mind and recalled a drunk man, weaving along the road. He wondered if that had been his father. He really didn’t care, though. He flicked a glance at Audrey, who was watching him carefully. He hoped she knew what he was trying to do, edging forward slightly, keeping his father distracted with his questions. ‘Did you kill Joe?’

Danny shook his head. ‘Believe me, I wanted to. But no, it wasn’t me. And it wasn’t that young guy, either. Joe was too canny a player to be caught unawares by the likes of him. Someone else did for him, someone he trusted.’ He squinted at his son, seeing this did not surprise him. ‘But you know all this, don’t you?’

Davie nodded. ‘So why all this? Why kill that girl? Beat up Vari? Lomas. Harris. The pictures. What was it all about?’

‘Simple. I want back in. Couldn’t do that with you around.’

And then Davie understood. It was all a strategy to keep him on edge, to keep him guessing, to create fear. His father would have known that he was the bogey man in Davie’s mind and he played on it, ramping up the pressure, tightening the screws on Davie’s nerves until he made a mistake. He knew that sooner or later they would clash and he wanted to have the edge when it came. And with Davie stressed out, spooked, that might be enough.

But there was more to it. He enjoyed playing these games.

With Rab supposedly being taken out by Mulvey and Davie gone, Danny could have sidled up to Luca easily, made himself useful. Then, sooner or later, Luca would have been in the way, too. But Rab getting the better of Mulvey threw a spanner into the works completely. Audrey’s abduction was a hasty affair, risky, and Davie was not meant to simply arrive in Ballantrae, not yet anyway. For the first time in years, Danny McCall was making it up as he went along, and he didn’t like it.

But as he looked at his father’s face, at the flesh of Audrey’s throat where it was puckered by the blade, Davie still felt as if there was a cloud of angry insects fluttering in his gut. He was close now, close enough to get to his father if he wanted, but something held him back. ‘Let her go,’ he said, then added, ‘dad.’

Danny McCall was taken aback by his use of the word. He turned his head towards Audrey, looking at her as if seeing her for the first time, then frowned and stepped an arm’s length to his right, his left hand still welding her wrists behind her. ‘Her?’ Davie held his father’s eyes but saw nothing there that suggested he was going to let her go. ‘You want her?’

Davie didn’t move. He calculated the distance between them and he knew he could reach his father before he knew what was happening.

But still he hesitated. He didn’t know why. He wanted to spring forward, wanted to get his hands round the older man’s throat, but his mind was in conflict with his body.

‘You know something?’ Danny McCall said, as if they were all having a chat in the pub. ‘You really can’t look after your women, can you? I mean, there was your mum. You were next to useless there, weren’t you, son?’

Davie felt a chill seep into his bones, making his hands tremble. It was just two or three feet, four at the most. He could be there before the old man knew it. But still he could not move.

‘Then there was that tart the other day – what’s her name? Vari?’

Davie tensed, willing himself to move, yet he was frozen. With a feeling of shame he realised it was terror. Earlier he thought he was ready. Now he knew he wasn’t.

‘Now there’s her.’ Danny McCall jerked his head towards Audrey and Davie looked at her, saw her eyes focussed on him, saw the plea for him to do something. But he couldn’t move. He had been waiting for this moment for thirteen years, looking forward to it, dreading it, relishing it. Fearing it.

Danny shrugged. ‘Fuckin pitiful, so it is…’

With a cry, Les Fraser threw himself forward. It was a strangled sound, part scream, part roar, all rage. He simply moved on instinct, both hands reaching out. Danny had forgotten about him, so intent was he in needling his son. Davie saw the surprise on his father’s face but he recovered quickly and stepped back, the blade swinging from Audrey towards Les, missing him, allowing the detective to bulldoze into him, knocking him backwards, Audrey breaking free from his grasp. Danny put a step or two between them and lunged with the blade again. Les seemed to run right onto it, the sharp edge plunging into side. He stopped, looked down as Danny slid the blade from his flesh and moved out of reach. Audrey screamed. Les began to crumple. Audrey moved to catch him.

Davie was already on his father.

He made no sound as he shot across the few feet between them, surprising even Danny McCall with the speed of the attack. He tried to bring the knife up but Davie swatted it away with his left hand as he balled the fist of his right and swung it at his father’s neck. It was a heavy blow and it hurt the older man. He fell back, his left hand reflexively rising to the source of the pain but Davie wasn’t about to let him get away. He moved in again, both fists slamming home, pummelling at his father’s face, his body, anything. Danny McCall lashed out blindly with the blade, slicing across Davie’s chest, cutting through his jacket, his shirt, leaving a deep gash on his flesh. Pain jolted through Davie’s body, making him miss a step and the older man leaped closer, the blade arcing up and away, carving a thin line on his face. The sting was sharp and intense and Davie staggered back again, feeling the warm blood coating his cheek chill in the bitter wind.

Danny circled, his body crouched, prepared for another attack. Davie took a moment, wiped the blood away, knowing more would ooze from the sliced flesh. He had lost the element of surprise now and Danny knew it.

‘Come on, son,’ he said, his voice guttural as he jerked his head backwards to where Les lay, Audrey pressing her hand against his wound. ‘You let this one do your work for you. You not think I saw you getting closer? You think I missed it? But you bottled it, didn’t you? You hesitated. Big mistake, son, big fuckin mistake…’

Davie sprang again, colliding with his father just as Les had done. Danny stumbled backwards, lost his footing, went down on one knee but was still slashing with the knife, aiming for Davie’s thigh, gouging another deep wound.

The pain was excruciating. Davie felt his leg give way and he tumbled down the tarmac incline. When he righted himself he saw Audrey scrambling towards the grass where her husband had thrown the gun.

Danny saw her too.

He moved so quickly that Davie was barely aware of it, whirling, grabbing Audrey by the hair, jerking her head back. She struggled, lashed out with her fists but she couldn’t connect. She froze when she felt the blade against her throat once more. Davie rose but his father glared back at him and snarled. There were no words, just something basic and primal rumbling from his throat. He pulled Audrey’s head further back for emphasis, stretching the skin at her throat tighter, the knife already pricking the surface, drawing a trickle of blood.