Face in the Frame (21 page)

“You know, private investigator is the perfect calling for you. I’ve never met anyone so nosy in my entire life.”

“It’s all part of my charm,” Brodie said cheerfully until he heard Del snigger.

“I’d best be on my way before he announces our engagement,” said Lucas, picking up his cane. “Thank you Brodie, it’s been…interesting. Let me know if you find anything out,” he added, producing one of his business cards from his pocket and placing it on the table beside Brodie.

“Aye, I will,” he said, watching him go, dragging his eyes off Lucas’s retreating back when he realised the whole pub was staring at him.

“Aw sweet, he gave you his phone number,” called Del from behind the bar, the rest of the pub erupting into laughter.

“It’s not for me, it’s for you. He’s a health inspector,” he called back, enjoying the way Del’s grin fell.

Two minutes after Lucas had gone Brodie exited the pub too, not wanting to leave with him because he was so afraid of giving everyone the impression he’d pulled.

The first thing Brodie did was return to his office to call this previous client of Oliver’s. He was becoming more convinced that he was the real talent and Lucas was just the pretty face, that would be a secret Lucas would be very keen on keeping, otherwise it would be the end of his very lucrative livelihood.

To his annoyance he couldn’t get through to the man himself, so he was forced to leave a message on his answering machine. Maybe Hans Albrecht could close the lid on this case once and for all?

Pete sighed and shifted from side to side, his back starting to ache after being stood around for so long. Another body had been found in the Clyde and he was waiting for the divers to finish disentangling it from the weeds close to the edge of the bank. All he could see from where he was stood was a grey, limp lump bobbing about face down in the water, the limbs moving grotesquely as the movement of the divers agitated it, like it was trying to brush them away.

He ran a hand through his hair and frowned at two of his colleagues who watched him with smiles playing on their lips. Hastily he retracted his hand and glared at them. “What the hell are you two staring at?”

“Nothing Sir,” replied one of the men.

Both were lairy young detective constables he would take great pleasure in giving the mankiest duties to later.

Sensing he was being stared at Pete whipped round to find two scenes of crimes technicians likewise staring at his head, as though trying to puzzle out what was sat on top of it.

“What’s wrong with the lot of you?” said Pete. “Have you never seen a decent haircut before?”

“Yeah,” replied one of the techs, “and that’s not it.”

“You’re a cheeky bastard, you don’t even have hair.”

“Right now I’m thinking that’s not a bad thing.”

Pete rounded on his two constables when he heard sniggering again. “Shut it you two,” he barked. “You’re getting on my tits.”

“Oooh, listen to her,” said another voice, causing him to whip back round like a dervish.

“You wantin’ to end up in the Clyde too?” Pete barked at the two techs.

They were saved from responding by a shout from the divers and he ignored the subordinate bastards around him to watch the body being hauled onto the bank. His constables weren’t so lairy when they saw the state it was in. One released a horrified gasp and the other turned and threw up into the bushes.

“Where’s his face?” exclaimed the constable who wasn’t bringing up his breakfast.

“Well it’s not here,” said Pete, finally wondering if he should have taken Brodie’s crazy theories more seriously. “I want this body ID’d as soon as possible,” he ordered, pulling his mobile phone out of his pocket to call Brodie. He hesitated then replaced it in his pocket. He’d get a definite ID first before stirring up that hornet’s nest again.

CHAPTER 19

Cass was feeling horribly guilty about her argument with Brodie. In all the time they’d worked together they had never once fallen out. In fact everything had been extraordinarily harmonious between them, until now. He’d certainly never shouted at her before. Also she was having doubts about the proposed move to London. She’d only known Lucas for almost two weeks. How could she consider giving up everything and everyone in her life for a man she barely knew? What if their relationship failed after a few months? She’d be left with nothing, all alone in a strange city. She’d got caught up in the romance of it all and now she was wondering whether she was making a huge mistake. Also, she hated to admit it but the prospect of leaving Brodie behind was causing her a huge amount of pain.

She was so concerned she couldn’t concentrate on what the poor battered woman sitting before her was saying. Cass forced her thoughts off Brodie and back onto the woman talking to her, both eyes almost swollen shut, lips split, cheeks bruised.

“Kevin won’t bother you again, I’ve made sure of it,” said Cass, her own bruised knuckles testament to the effort she’d put in for this woman.

“I don’t know how to thank you,” said the woman, tears rolling down her damaged face - damaged by her scumbag of a husband. She’d taken his abuse for years but she’d finally got help when he’d turned his fists on their two children.

“Just go and have a happy life. That’s all I ask,” said Cass with a reassuring smile. Plenty of battered women came to them for help and Brodie insisted on never charging them. These women seemed to split into two camps - either Brodie’s size and obvious ability to take care of himself reassured them and they wanted him to deal with it, or they were that afraid of men they would only deal with a woman, landing it in Cass’s hands. This was the case now. This woman had been abused and tortured for years to the extent that she visibly flinched when she was anywhere near a man.

“I’m sorry but I’ve really got to go now,” said Cass reluctantly, getting to her feet.

“Of course, sorry for keeping you.”

Cass hated how the woman apologised for everything. It made her want to give Kevin a good pasting all over again. “No worries. Kevin will be in hospital for a while so make sure you get well away before he’s discharged.”

“I will. Me and the kids are going to stay with my cousin in Dublin until I get back on my feet.”

“Good.”

“I wouldn’t hang about anyway because I’m worried what Big Malc will do when he finds out.”

Cass hesitated. “Big Malc?
The
Big Malc?”

The woman nodded. “He’s Kev’s half-brother.”

“What?” exclaimed Cass.

“It’s a secret. Kev’s dad had an affair with Malc’s mum. Malc didnae want everyone calling his maw a slag so they’ve kept it quiet for years, but Kev and Malc are quite close.”

Cass wanted to grab the stupid woman and shake her for not mentioning this sooner, but she wouldn’t do that to someone who had finally been freed from years of abuse.

“Are you alright?” she asked Cass.

“I’ve got to go,” replied Cass, rushing out of the house towards her car parked at the kerb. Once she was inside she locked the doors - a precaution she had started taking when she’d begun working for Brodie - and called the office.

“Ross, is Brodie there?”

“Yeah, sulking in his office.”

“Put him on. Now.”

“Trouble?”

“Yeah, a whole heap of it.”

“Just another day at the office,” he said before calling, “hey Boss, phone.”

“Haven’t you learnt to transfer a call yet?” Cass heard a grumpy voice call back.

“It’s Cass.”

For a moment she thought Brodie was going to reject her call, then his voice came on the line. “What?” he barked.

Cass cringed. Not good. “I’ve just made a huge mistake Brodie.”

“What mistake?” he said in a gentler tone. Just as she’d hoped her use of his first name had softened him up a bit.

“I just beat the shit out of Big Malc’s half-brother.”

“He doesn’t have a half-brother.”

“He does according to Elaine Douglas. Her husband Kevin has been beating her for years. When he started taking it out on the kids she asked me to sort him out, which I did. He’s currently in hospital. But the dizzy cow didn’t think to tell me he was a relative of Big Malc’s, which means…”

“He’s also related to the McVays. Shit.”

It worried her that Brodie sounded so worried. “What do I do?”

“Come back to the office right now. Stop for nothing and no one.”

“On my way,” she said before hanging up and starting the engine.

At the start of his shift Bill rushed towards The Face in the Frame exhibition, desperate to see Sylvie after the day he’d had. His mother was driving him even more up the wall than usual. She wouldn’t do a thing for herself anymore and it wasn’t out of any physical frailty, it was because she was a vicious old cow who enjoyed having someone to boss about and he was at the end of his tether. She thought because he was still living at home she could humiliate him, ridicule him. If she complained about not having grandkids just one more time he knew he’d lose it. Even here he could still hear her nagging, whiny bitch voice in his head -
fat, useless, lazy, ugly, spineless, virgin.
It was always the last one that irritated him the most because it wasn’t true. There’d been a couple of women when he was younger
.
The most recent ones had been paid for. No one was really interested in a shy, overweight, low-paid man who lived with his mum. Until Sylvie had come along that is.

Just seeing her made him feel calmer. He reached out to stroke her face, which couldn’t exactly be described as soft but was still the most sensuous thing he had ever touched.

“It’s so good to see you, my love,” he said. “Mum’s become a complete nightmare, I don’t think I can cope for much longer. There’s no one else to care for her, it’s all on me and I’m starting to crack under the strain, I can feel it. There’s all these thoughts running through my head and I can’t control them, they’re bad thoughts, evil thoughts about…hurting her. Sometimes I want to put my hands around her throat and squeeze, just to shut her up…” He broke off when he saw someone staring at him. “What the fuck are you looking at you bastard?” he roared, delighted to finally find an outlet for the rage that had been building in him for years. He looked to Sylvie. “I’ll be back in a minute sweetheart.”

Bill stomped up to the handsome man’s face, who was still in the corner Lucas had relegated him to, furious. He was positive the face was smirking at him. Angrily he slapped the handsome man’s red button, causing the face to come to life, the smooth smile and suave voice sending his temper skyrocketing.

“Shut it you smug fucker,” Bill bellowed before slamming his fist into the handsome visage. The eyes seemed to bulge and the jaw stammered, the words slurring into a strange buzz before dying away altogether.

Bill gaped at the crumpled face in astonishment. “Oh God, what have I done?” he exclaimed, horrified. The face was completely ruined. With no bones or muscles it had been unable to withstand the impact of a fist. The jaw continued to flap in time to the distorted words, giving Bill the serious creeps.

“Mr Thorne is going to be so pissed off.”

Frantically he tried to think of an excuse but none would come. He hopped from foot to foot, unable to believe the devastation he’d wrought on something created by his hero. He rushed back to Sylvie, clutching at his sparse hair. “I just broke one of the faces. What do I do?” he exclaimed.

He waited for a reply but none was forthcoming.

“I could say the cleaners did it. I came in to work and it was already damaged. There’s no CCTV in this room, no one could prove it was me. Yes, that’s what I’ll do. Blame the cleaners.” Secure in the validity of his plan, he reached for the radio tucked into his belt and released a cry of horror. A flap of tanned skin was stuck to his fist, standing out from his own pale skin. With a shudder he peeled it off and tossed it into a bin, feeling sick.

Cass wasn’t sure what reception she’d get back at the office but Brodie seemed to be all concern when she entered.

“Have you noticed anyone following you?” was his first question.

“Nope and believe me I’ve been checking.”

“You’re supposed to run checks before taking on a job so we can avoid situations like this.”

“And I did,” she retorted, trying not to lose her temper. “I did a careful check but Elaine said the family had kept it a secret so there was no record.”

“Alright, I’m sorry,” he said, holding up his hands.

She closed her eyes and took in a few deep breaths. “I’m the one who should be sorry Brodie, my nerves are on edge.”

“Understandable. Right, I need to speak to Big Malc and get this straightened out before it kicks off.”

“You think it will?”

“That all depends on how much Malc cares about Kevin the shitebag.”

“Is it wise to approach him when he’s at war with Toni?”

“I don’t see what else I can do.”

She shook her head. “No. This is my mess and I’ll clean it up.”

“Malc won’t talk to you, he won’t discuss anything with a woman.” Brodie hated what he had to say next but his priority was keeping Cass safe. “Maybe you should go to London sooner than planned?”

She was surprised by just how hard this comment hit her. “Are you serious?”

“The McVays have no reach down there. At least you’d be safe.”

Cass looked down at the floor, kicking at it with the toe of her boot. “I suppose,” she mumbled.

Brodie looked down at the floor too, missing the moment she lifted her head and gave him a hopeful look.

“I’ll talk to Lucas about it,” she said.

“Good. Probably for the best,” he said tightly. He turned on his heel and barked for Christian and Ross, unable to bear looking into those big dark eyes.

When the door was shoved open Brodie shook his head and sighed.

“Jesus Nat, not now, please.”

Brodie’s sister, younger than him by four years, loped into the room on her long thin legs, long dark hair swinging halfway down her back. She had the same amber-coloured eyes as her brother and, unfortunately, the same moody temperament.

“It’s important,” she replied, throwing herself into Cass’s chair.

Brodie watched Cass’s eyes widen before they narrowed and filled with ice. She and Natalie hated each other with a passion. A year ago Natalie had mouthed off at her once too often simply because his sister enjoyed trouble. She’d soon regretted it when Cass had punched her and knocked her out. It had taken all of Brodie’s persuasive power to convince her not to report Cass to the police. But Natalie was also aware of his feelings for Cass and it always felt like walking a tightrope when they were in the same room together, afraid Natalie would let his secret slip - she was a vindictive cow and he wouldn’t put it past her to do it just for a laugh. He was also afraid Cass would knock her out again. Not that he was worried for his sister, she was always winding people up the wrong way and getting smacked in the face, but he was worried about Cass getting into trouble for it.

“Then spit it out because we’ve got a lot on,” he said impatiently.

“Charming as always,” said Natalie flatly. “It’s Ricky.”

“Oh no, what now?” Ricky was their elder brother who was doomed to spend the rest of his life in a secure mental unit after he’d cut their abusive dad’s head off and he had frequent violent episodes, haunted by what he had done.

“He’s had another episode,” said Natalie. “He attacked another patient and they’ve had to put him on the strong meds again.”

“Oh jeezo. You’ll have to go. I’m up to my eyes in it here.” At that point his phone started to ring in his pocket but he ignored it, just knowing it was Shelley. He was sure the ringtone sounded different when it was her.

“Aren’t you going to answer that?” said Nat.

“It can wait,” he replied.

Nat arched an eyebrow. “Brodie MacBride not answering his phone? What’s the deal there, that thing’s usually glued to your head.”

“It doesn’t matter. Just go and see Ricky, will you?”

She threw her booted feet onto Cass’s desk. Brodie swallowed hard when he saw his second’s hands ball into fists. Natalie was doing it on purpose to wind her up and they all knew it. Including Cass.

“I went last time. It’s your turn.”

“Why do you always have to treat him like he’s a chore? He’s your brother for Christ’s sake,” said Brodie, knocking her feet off the desk. “And stop treating this place like your own shitehole of a flat.”

“You can’t call mine when you live in the stink pit from hell.”

“My place is not a stink pit from hell and it’s nowhere near as bad as yours because I don’t let druggie bastards get high in it and stop changing the subject Nat. You don’t work, you’ve got more time than me and I have a lot of heavy stuff on at the moment.”

“You always have heavy stuff on. You love drama,” she said, picking up a pen and twiddling it about.