Divided Loyalties (14 page)

Ryan watched her go.  He’d seen the anguish in her eyes and had the urge to wrap her in his arms but as usual he had to stand helplessly by, so close to the woman of his dreams but it would seem so far from her.

Alex poured them all a drink and they settled in the armchairs around the fire. 

“I’ve been very impressed today,” began Frankie and they all looked at him expectantly.  So far he hadn’t said how Danny’s death would affect their business arrangement and they were all worried he’d use it as an excuse to back out.  “You’ve banded together and kept everything going.  Times like this are hazardous and in-fighting can break out but that hasn’t happened.  On top of that I’ve just made a huge pile of money from those guns we seized from that prick Hardcastle.  There’ll be no come-backs there, my contacts have smoothed it all over.  Our business arrangement will remain, if that’s acceptable?”

“Yes Frankie, very much,” said Alex.

“There’s just one thing I want to know.  Who’s in charge now?”  He fixed Alex steadily with his gaze, daring him to say it.

“I am,” he replied, “although I hope Rachel will want to keep her position as advisor as she did for Danny.”

“So do I, she’s an impressive woman and an asset.  I always thought women had no place in our world but she’s made me seriously rethink that opinion.”  His eyes flicked to Ryan.  “And your families will continue to work together?”

“Yes, we’re stronger standing together and never has our truce been more vital.”

“Good.  Business calls me back to Glasgow but if you don’t mind I’d like to be there when you visit Lutsky tomorrow.”

“Of course,” replied Alex.  “You’re always welcome Frankie.”

Rachel spent the night clinging to Danny’s pillow, sobbing her heart out.  She cried so hard her body shook.  He was everywhere in their bedroom, all around her.  His dirty clothes were still balled up in the laundry bin where he’d tossed them the morning he’d died, his comb, complete with a strand of dark hair, sat on the bedside table, the watch she’d had engraved for their last anniversary beside it.  She’d never felt such raw unbearable pain in her entire life.  It had been easier when they’d been trying to track down his killer, she’d had something to concentrate on, a reason to keep up the strong front but now she was alone she couldn’t ignore the agony anymore.  She missed him so much she thought she might actually die of it and if it wasn’t for Leah she might have been tempted to give in to the impulse, to just lie down and let go so she could be with Danny again.

Unable to take it anymore she sat up, switched on the lamp and stared at the bottle of sleeping pills her doctor had prescribed.  Part of her wanted to take a couple just to escape the pain for a while, another part of her screamed to take the whole damn lot and never wake up again.

With a huge force of will she shoved them into a drawer and slammed it shut.  She’d face the pain head on, she’d no choice, not if she wanted to be any kind of mother to their daughter.  She just had to cling onto the hope that one day it would get easier.

Rachel was surprised to have Superintendent Benton on her doorstep at nine o’clock the next morning.  She wasn’t even dressed, wrapped up in her pyjamas and thick towelling dressing gown, hair pulled back into a ponytail.  Benton thought how telling her appearance was of the pain she was suffering, he’d never seen her anything but immaculate before.

“Rachel I need to talk to you,” he called to her, trying to peer over the bulk of Battler and Bruiser, who refused to let him in.

“Hasn’t she got enough on without you coming here and stirring it up?” growled Battler.

“If you hadn’t realised I’m investigating her husband’s murder,” he snapped, furious at being blocked out like this.

“It’s alright,” she called in a weak, tired voice.  “You can let him in.”

Reluctantly they stood aside to allow him to pass, scowling as he went by.

“Would you like anything to drink?” offered Rachel.

“No thank you.  I just need a few words, if that’s alright?”

She nodded and gestured for him to sit.

“How are you feeling Rachel?” he began.

“I’m okay.”

It was a lie.  Her eyes were ringed with black, her mouth set in a hard line of pain and she was cradling her left arm. 

“I’ve just stopped by to update you on the investigation.”

“Oh yes?”

“We’ve identified the weapon as an AS50 sniper rifle, commonly used by the British Army.  Very accurate.”

She nodded, trying to look interested but it was clear she was already aware of this.  He wished he could find the leak in his department and put a fucking big plug in it.

“We’re speaking to all the known arms dealers in the area.  Funnily enough Gary Hardcastle was turned over before we got there, had his whole stock nicked, although he wouldn‘t say by who.  Don’t you think that strange?”

“I don’t know who you’re talking about,” she replied flatly.

“Of course not,” he said, not convinced.  “So far we’ve had no luck tracing the weapon but I promise you we will.  We’re also trawling through hundreds of hours of CCTV footage from the surrounding shops and offices but that will take some time, there‘s so much of it.  On top of that we know we’re looking for someone with specialist training.”

She sighed inwardly.  He was telling her nothing new. 

“There’s something else I wanted to discuss with you,” he continued.

“Oh yes?”

“I know that right now you’re probably after blood but I want to ask you not to interfere with our investigation.  Let’s do this the right way.”

“What do you mean Superintendent?”

“I mean I don’t want you and the rest of your family tearing the city apart looking for Danny’s killer.  If you piss off the wrong people then they might retaliate and the last thing I want is more bloodshed.”

“I’m sorry, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Yes you do,” he said gently.  He glanced around for Battler and Bruiser, who were stood frowning in the doorway.  “Why don’t you let me assign a couple of my men to watch over you?”

“I’ve got Battler and Bruiser, they’re all I need.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes Superintendent.  I appreciate your concern and how seriously you’re taking this investigation after all that’s passed between us but I’ve got all the protection I need.”

He just nodded, realising she wouldn’t be convinced.  “Alright.  You know how to get hold of me if you need me?”

“I do.  Thank you.”

He got to his feet.  “I’ll see myself out.”

Battler and Bruiser glared at him as he walked past them to the door and he returned their stares with his own steady gaze.  Rachel watched him go, chewing her lip thoughtfully. 

CHAPTER 14

Fedir Lutsky was a short squat man composed of solid muscle with a thick neck and an ugly flat face.  A man of few words, he preferred to stand at the bar with a bottle of beer while his companions talked, listening out for useful pieces of information amid the drivel.

He wasn’t surprised when Alex and Rachel Maguire approached him.  Strange, he thought they’d come mob-handed.  Maybe this was a sign of respect? 

“Mr Lutsky?” opened Alex.

He nodded.

“We’d like a word with you.”

“I don’t talk business with women,” he retorted in a thick accent, gesturing at Rachel, whose eyes flashed.

“But you’ll talk to me?” pressed Alex.

He nodded sternly and moved away from his curious companions to a quiet corner of the room.

“You’ve come to ask me if I killed your brother?” opened Fedir.

“Yes.”

“I don’t discuss my business.  I work alone and answer to no one.”

“If you didn’t do it just say and we’ll be on our way.”

Fedir found himself in a tricky position.  He’d intimated to a potential client that he was responsible to impress them and if he denied it then it would be all over the city by tomorrow and his reputation would be in tatters. 

“I’ve already given you my answer.  Now why don’t you leave?” he said, opening his jacket to reveal a machete.  “Neither of us wants things to get messy.”  He noticed Rachel staring at him and was incensed.  “What are you looking at little girl?”

“Someone who will soon be begging me for mercy,” she replied.

The coldness in her tone and eyes shocked him, he’d never seen a woman look so hard before.

“Go away before you get hurt,” he replied, turning his back on them and picking up his beer.

Rachel’s hand went inside her jacket pocket for the taser but Alex stayed her.  “Not here, not now.”

“Okay,” she said reluctantly.

“This isn’t over Lutsky,” said Alex before they left.

Everyone, including Lutsky, was amazed he’d got off so lightly.

Three hours later Lutsky stumbled out of the pub a little worse for wear.  Everyone had congratulated him all night on how well he’d handled the Maguires and commented that they’d lost their nerve with Danny gone, that they were finished.  So the last thing he was expecting was the hand clamping down on his mouth and the needle in his neck.

He woke to find himself strapped to a gurney in the basement of the Maguire compound surrounded by the Maguire clan, Ryan Law and Frankie McVay.

“Are we awake?” said Alex, peering down at him.  “Perhaps we can finish that conversation now?”

Furious, Lutsky launched into a tirade in his mother tongue.

“What the fuck’s that?” said Frankie.  “Sounds like Klingon.”

“It’s Russian,” replied Rachel, peering down at Lutsky.  “Are you ready to answer our questions or do you want us to get medieval on you?”

When he spat in her face Ryan was incensed and punched him hard, breaking his nose, which had the effect of silencing him.

“Thank Christ for that,” said Frankie.  “I was expecting him to get beamed up to the mother ship at any moment.”

Rachel coolly wiped her face with a towel, unfazed.  “I’ve had much worse Mr Lutsky.  Now all we want is a simple yes or no and if you answer nicely you might get out of here alive.  Did you kill my husband?”

“Fuck yourself you English whore.”  Lutsky was furious that he was at this woman’s mercy.

“You disappointment me Fedir, I had hoped we could be civilised about this,” she said, walking over to a cabinet in the corner of the room.  He watched apprehensively as she took out a syringe and a vial of clear liquid.  “As a mercenary you’ve no doubt experienced many forms of pain but I’m about to introduce you to a completely new one.”

She injected him in the neck and instantly Fedir felt as though his entire body was on fire.  He released a roar of agony, sizeable muscles straining against the restraints, spine arching up off the gurney as the pain consumed him entirely.

Mikey watched with a worried frown as Rachel stared down at their prisoner impassively.  Danny’s death has destroyed something inside her, the part that loved to nurse, the caring compassionate side.  All she cared about now was finding his killer and she’d stop at nothing to achieve that.  He prayed when this was all over the change wouldn’t be a permanent one.

As the drug started to wear off Fedir’s body relaxed and he sank onto the gurney, sweating and breathing hard.

“Did you kill Danny?” she said quietly.

He tried to reply but he hadn’t recovered his breath.  His heart hammered so hard he feared he was having a heart attack.

Alex threw a bucket of cold water over him.  “Wake up.”

This roused him from his stupor but defiance filled him again.  “Fuck you and your dead husband,” he snarled at Rachel.

Infuriated she slammed the used syringe into the back of his hand and he gritted his teeth together to keep the cry of pain inside. 

“I heard all about your boating accident,” she hissed nastily.  “And you’re terrified of water.”

“No,” was all he had time to yell before Ryan clamped a towel over his face and Mikey drenched it with water.  The effect was instant and dramatic.  Fedir, feeling like he was drowning, started to thrash violently but he couldn’t throw them off. 

When they removed the towel Fedir dragged air into his starved lungs, eyes wild with panic and fear.

“I repeat, did you kill Danny?” demanded Rachel, eyes black with anger.

Another Russian tirade resulted in another water-boarding session, Rachel staring down at the gasping, choking figure icily.

“Did you kill my husband?” she said quietly.

“No,” he practically shrieked as his spirit broke beneath the assault of frightening childhood memories.  “I pretended I did but I didn’t.  I was in Liverpool when he was shot.”

“Why didn’t you just tell us that in the club?” exclaimed Rachel.  Realisation dawned.  “Oh I see, you’d been boasting to your cronies and couldn’t lose face.  You’ve wasted so much of our time.  Now you’re going to lose a lot more than that.”

“No, please,” he begged.

“I told you that you’d be begging me for mercy,” she said, lips curving up into a parody of a smile.

She nodded at Mikey and Ryan, who water-boarded him again and when they released him on Rachel’s command he was weeping freely.

“Fedir, are you right or left handed?” she said.

“W…what?”

“I said are you right or left handed?” she yelled.

“Right.”

She nodded at Frankie, who produced his hatchet from his jacket pocket, the blade glinting in the harsh artificial light.  With extreme precision and speed he brought it down on Fedir’s right wrist, severing his hand and he screamed in agony.

Eagerly Frankie produced an ice box and sealed the appendage inside it. 

“Another one to add to my collection,” he smiled.

A worried look passed between Ryan and Mikey.

“We could have avoided all this Fedir,” said Rachel, “but you chose this path.  Now your career’s finished.  On the bright side, hopefully you’ve learnt to have more respect for women.  Get out of the city and don’t come back unless you want us to drown you for good.”

“I will,” he managed to rasp before passing out.

Later that day Fedir was found dumped outside his favourite pub delirious with pain, the stump where his right hand used to be professionally bandaged. 

Richard Spencer unlocked his front door and angrily threw his briefcase onto the hallway table.  Bruce was throwing his weight about again, demanding more money.  Thirty eight years old and he still lived off an allowance, he’d never done a proper day’s work in his life.  Not only that, he’d only gone and bought himself another Porsche.  Richard didn’t know what he was going to do with him and it frightened him that he was his only heir.  On the bright side, at least it showed he was getting back to his old self after the attack.  He wished his wife was still alive, Helen had been the only one who could control Bruce but she’d died ten years ago of ovarian cancer and he missed her every day.

He was so troubled that it took Richard a few seconds to realise that his lounge had been invaded by Maguires, sitting there like they owned the place.  As well as Alex and Rachel, there was a man he recognised as Ryan Law and a ginger haired man with glasses he’d never seen before. 

“May I ask how you got in?” he said calmly, pulling off his tie and undoing his top button.

“We have our ways,” replied Alex.

“Drink?”

“Thanks but we already helped ourselves,” he said, holding up a tumbler full of whisky.  “It’s bloody good.”

“Fifty year old scotch, only the best.”  He poured his own and took the chair by the fireplace.  He noticed Rachel watching him with her black eyes, which glittered dangerously in the firelight.  “Mrs Maguire.”

“Mr Spencer.  Let’s cut the false bonhomie.  Did you arrange to have my husband killed?”

“If you hadn’t noticed I’m not a criminal.”

“You’re a powerful businessman.  Are you saying you’ve never taken the easy path or ridden over someone who stood in your way?”

“Of course I have but I’ve never had anyone killed to get where I am.  I prefer to target your legitimate businesses, a ploy that I believe was working quite well.”

“You were nothing but a pest Mr Spencer.  I’m only going to ask you once more nicely.  Did you kill my husband, yes or no?”

“No.  I can’t help feel that his death was well deserved but unfortunately I didn’t cause it.”

Richard mistook the civil tone in Rachel’s voice for weakness, thinking she wouldn’t dare make a move on him.  He only realised his error when her fist connected with his face, knocking him back into the chair.  Unable to escape, all he could do was curl up into a ball as she pummelled him, her strength surprising for such a slender woman. 

“Alright Rach,” Alex eventually said.  “He’s had enough.”

“I’ve just got started,” she hissed but she took a step back, breathing hard, eyes black with wrath.

“Oh Jesus, you broke my nose,” whined Richard.  “I’m going to sue you.”

Alex grabbed his shirt front in one fist and yanked him forwards, almost dragging him off the chair.  “You’re not going to do anything, in fact you’ll stay well away from our family.  The only reason you’re still breathing is because of your standing in the city and your disappearance would raise questions.  But I will rethink that decision if I find out you had anything to do with my brother’s death.”  He dragged Richard to the floor and kicked him in the ribs, making him yelp.  “And you can tell The Coalition to back off too, we’re fucking sick of them.”

Richard stared up at him, surprised.

“Oh yes we know all about that bunch of tossers so the lot of you can back off, we’re stronger than ever.  Stay the fuck out of our way Spencer or we’ll finish you and when we’ve done that we’ll finish your wanker of a son too.”

“You’ll leave him alone,” he said, panic in his tone.

“We will if you keep your end of the bargain.  If you want to keep him alive then you fucking behave yourself.  Have we made ourselves clear?”

“Crystal,” he replied begrudgingly.

“Good, I’m glad we’ve got that sorted,” said Alex, straightening up.  “Thanks for the drink.”

With that they filed out of the room quietly, leaving him bleeding on the floor.  Only when he was sure they’d gone did Richard stagger to the phone and call Benton, who was there in under ten minutes.

“Jesus Christ what happened to you?” frowned Benton. 

“The Maguires happened, that’s what.”

“Who hit you?  Alex?  Mikey?”

“Rachel,” he muttered, humiliated.

“Can’t say I’m surprised, I’ve always said she’s an unnatural woman.”

“They told me they’d kill me and my son if I continued to poke my nose into their business.”

“I warned you, didn’t I?  Why did you have to go round their pub shouting your mouth off?”

“Because I was angry, they crippled my son.”

“Your threats brought them straight to your door.”

“They know about The Coalition, they knew I was a part of it.  Alex threatened all of us.”

Benton already knew the Maguires were aware of their group.  He’d worked out months ago that they were responsible for Davenport’s death, not Ryan Law.

“Forget about that, it’s not important.”

“Not important, are you insane?  These are serious people.”

“I’m well aware of that but we can’t give in to their threats.  We have to fight them.”

“The Coalition isn’t the way, the Maguires know about us, we’ve been compromised.”

“Are you giving up?”

Richard went silent, staring at the floor.

“Are you?”

“I have to protect my son.  I’m out.”

Benton sighed and shook his head before walking out of the house but despite his words Richard was far from out.  He’d get the Maguires, he just needed to figure out how.