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Authors: Doug Johnstone

Tags: #Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, #Mystery, #Thrillers & Suspense, #Crime, #Crime Fiction

Hit and Run (9 page)

BOOK: Hit and Run
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18

 
 

He’d never been in The Montague before, despite living round the corner. In a neighbourhood awash with students on happy hour, it was a dull grey old man’s pub, populated by halfway jakeys and off-duty coppers from St Leonard’s across the road.

There were a handful of burly law-enforcement types bursting out of their shirts and guzzling pints of Best as Billy walked in, trailing Jeanie behind. The woman behind the bar had faded tattoos and a kind face.

Billy wangled a bowl of water and bought some crisps for Jeanie, opening the packet and placing it on the floor by his feet. She gobbled at them and lapped at the water, nudging the bowl across the floor with her snout so that water spilled on Billy’s trainers. He knelt down and stroked her back.

‘I’ll get you something proper to eat once we’re finished here.’

‘I didn’t know you had a dog.’ It was Rose standing over him. She was in a floral print dress. He’d never seen her in a dress before. Her breasts were spilling out the front. Beside her, DI Price couldn’t take his eyes off them.

Billy straightened up. ‘Just got her today.’

‘At the Dog and Cat Home?’

Billy nodded and Rose laughed.

‘You are really something. Sure you’re up to the responsibility of a pet?’

Billy shrugged.

Rose put a hand on Price’s chest. ‘Stuart, what can I get you?’

‘I’ll get these,’ Price said. ‘The lady never buys the first round.’

Billy followed Rose to a table, bringing Jeanie’s water bowl with him.

‘Now,’ Rose said. ‘Just play it straight with Stuart, OK? He’s one of the good guys.’

‘I like your dress.’ Billy raised his eyebrows at the low-cut front.

‘Shut it.’

Price arrived with drinks.

‘I take it Rose told you what this is about,’ he said to Billy.

‘Kind of.’

‘Well, as I’m sure you’re aware, I’ve been reasonably helpful to Rose in releasing information about the case to her early.’

‘Yeah, I noticed.’

Billy looked round. They were getting more attention now from the regulars and off-duty police. A detective inspector sharing a drink with two reporters, one of them with Double Ds on display.

‘Anyway, being helpful is a two-way street. So I want to talk to you about Adele Whitehouse.’

‘I believe you had her in for questioning.’ Billy tried to think about what he was supposed to know and what he wasn’t. He couldn’t get it clear in his head. Outside the window, shafts of evening sun lit up Salisbury Crags. Everywhere he went, the Crags were glaring down at him. He rattled the Tegretol in his pocket and took a swig of lager. Jeanie’s ears pricked up at the noise from his pocket, then she lost interest when he pulled an empty hand out.

‘Indeed,’ Price said. ‘She is providing an alibi for Dean Whitehouse for the time of Jamie Mackie’s shooting.’

‘Makes sense, the two seem almost inseparable.’

‘And yet you’ve managed to get Adele on her own, haven’t you?’

Billy paused.

‘Your interview in the
Evening Standard
?’

‘Of course.’

‘How was she?’

Billy slugged more lager. ‘I’m sorry, how do you mean?’

‘Just that, how did she seem when you spoke to her? She had just returned from identifying her husband’s body. She came across as measured and calm in the interview.’

‘That’s how she was.’

‘Do you think she was in shock?’

Billy considered this. The hash pipe. The sly glances. The bare feet next to his hand. ‘No, I don’t think so.’

‘Did she say anything about Frank? Or Dean?’

‘Nothing that didn’t go into the piece.’

Price sipped his Best. ‘It strikes me that she doesn’t seem too upset by Frank’s death.’

Billy didn’t speak.

‘What do you think of that?’

Billy took a long drink. ‘Are you suggesting she had something to do with it?’

Price shook his head. ‘I’m not suggesting anything. I’m just trying to get a feel for her.’

‘She didn’t seem that upset. I got the impression she was more sorry for Ryan’s sake than her own.’

‘That’s what I thought. But if that’s the case, why would she cover for Dean? She surely has no allegiances to him? Unless she’s been seeing him on the side. They do seem almost glued together at times.’

Billy tried to remember everything Adele had said. He imagined her fucking Dean, or Frank. Or both. He shivered. What was wrong with him?

‘I think she might be scared of Dean,’ he said.

‘He is quite a piece of work. But you would think she’d be used to it by now, married to Frank for years. Then again Frank was the brains, Dean has always been the one willing and eager to do the dirty work.’

‘What was Frank like?’

‘Quiet, but dominating. A hard man, but relatively old-school.’

Billy looked at Price. ‘You almost sound like you admire him.’

‘Far from it. I’ve seen a lot of misery in people’s lives brought about by that heartless bastard. But if I had to choose between having to deal with Frank Whitehouse or the Mackie boys, I’d take Frank every time.’

‘Really?’

Price nodded. ‘The Mackies are a whole new level of scum. There’s stuff they wouldn’t hesitate to get involved in that the Whitehouses wouldn’t even have considered.’

‘Like what?’

Price looked at Rose. ‘It doesn’t matter. Let’s just say that as the old guard of crooks die off and the new lot come in, I’m glad I’m retiring soon. If I can nail the Mackies for Frank’s death, and Dean Whitehouse for the Mackie shooting before I go, then I’ll have done a pretty decent job of cleaning up the mess in this city.’

Billy thought about that. All this from a car accident. His car accident. Maybe he’d performed a public service, starting a chain of events that would end with the criminal world destroying itself. Happy ever after. Yeah, right.

‘Anyway,’ Price said. ‘I was hoping you might be able to do me a favour.’

‘Oh?’

‘Nothing drastic. I was just wondering if you’d mind going to see Adele Whitehouse again, see if you can get something more out of her.’

Billy pictured her. She said she’d phone. He slipped his phone out of his pocket and sneaked a look. Nothing.

‘I don’t know.’

‘Rose tells me you had a fairly unorthodox way of getting to her.’

‘Maybe.’

‘I don’t need to know the details, just the results, if you manage to speak to her.’

‘I don’t see what you’re expecting me to achieve. You interviewed her at the station, what else can I do?’

‘Judging by your piece, quite a lot. She opened up to you. Rose has a theory that it’s down to animal magnetism.’ He smiled at her across the table, and Billy felt like he was playing gooseberry. ‘I wouldn’t know anything about that. But whatever the reason, I think it’s worth a go. Are you up for it?’

‘I suppose.’

He wanted to see her, couldn’t stop thinking about her. Something had almost happened between them. He’d killed her husband. He knew about her covering for Dean. His head ached, the lump on his temple throbbing with its own life force. He lifted his hand to it and rubbed.

‘That looks nasty,’ Price said. ‘Have you had it looked at?’

‘His brother’s a doctor,’ Rose said. Billy had forgotten she was there. She’d let them knock the conversation back and forth, never speaking. Sign of a good reporter. ‘He took a look at it, didn’t he?’

‘Yeah, said it was nothing to worry about.’

‘How did you do it?’ Price asked.

‘He wouldn’t tell me,’ Rose said.

Billy imagined what it would be like if he confessed, finally told the truth.

‘Just a stupid drinking injury,’ he said.

19

 
 

‘There you go, girl.’

Jeanie stuck her nose in the new basket and thumped her tail. She stepped in and circled three times, checking everything, then she nestled down and placed her chin on her paws with a look of satisfaction.

Billy had jumped in the car and headed to the big supermarket at Cameron Toll. He took a wander down the pet aisle, Jeanie sitting in the trolley. He picked up dog food and biscuits, chewy things and squeaky toys, stainless-steel bowls, a collar and lead, the basket and blanket. A handful of treats, to put some meat on her bones.

Back home, he’d arranged all the stuff in his bedroom. Zoe didn’t mind. She’d always had dogs growing up, black Labs, something Billy was jealous of. Her place in Trinity had a big garden for them to run around in, and Zoe’s mum didn’t have to work so was always there for walks while Zoe’s dad was out cutting deals or whatever, all the while Zoe traipsing across town to George Heriot’s at a cost of umpteen thousand quid a year.

Now he had his own dog. It felt good. He sat on the floor and rubbed his hand up and down her flank. He wondered where she’d come from, what had happened for her to be found wandering the streets alone. Might’ve been abused, or maybe she was simply lost. She was undernourished, he could see that. She was friendly and obedient, though. Maybe she recognised a fellow lost soul when she saw one.

‘She’s beautiful,’ Zoe said.

‘She certainly is.’

Jeanie opened an eye. She knew they were talking about her. Her tail flickered into life briefly then dropped again.

Zoe was sitting on the bed behind Billy. ‘I’m sorry.’

He didn’t look up. ‘What do you have to be sorry about?’

She was stroking his neck now, mirroring his own hands on Jeanie. ‘We should’ve reported it.’

There was a long silence. Eventually Billy spoke. ‘Yes, we should’ve.’

‘But it’s too late now, you have to see that.’

‘I don’t want to talk about it.’

‘But we have to, honey.’

‘No we don’t.’ Billy looked up finally. ‘Sitting here with Jeanie is the most peaceful I’ve felt since it happened. I don’t want it to end.’

‘Neither do I, but I’m worried.’

‘Of course you’re worried.’ Billy looked back at Jeanie, felt the soft ruffles of her fur through his fingers. ‘You should be worried. Your boyfriend is a murderer.’

Zoe stopped rubbing his neck. ‘Don’t say that.’

‘It’s true.’

‘Look at me, Billy Blackmore.’

He lifted his head a little.

‘In the eye.’

He held her gaze.

‘You are not a murderer, got it? What happened to you could’ve happened to any of us, to anyone. It was an accident. We should’ve reported it, maybe we could’ve saved his life, maybe not. But it would’ve ruined our lives, Charlie was right about that.’

‘It’s already ruined our lives.’

‘Not if we don’t let it.’ Her voice was pleading. All he seemed to hear these days were pleading, desperate voices.

‘It’s ruined my life.’

‘You have to snap out of it.’

Billy laughed. ‘That’s your answer? Get over killing someone by snapping out of it?’

‘Look, I know whatever I say is not going to be enough to make you feel any better. That’s why I think you should take the pills Charlie gave you. He says they’ll help with how you’re feeling.’

‘Charlie says, Charlie says.’ He sounded like a little kid in a huff.

‘He’s only looking out for you.’

‘Looking out for himself, more like.’

‘How can you say that?’

‘Because I know him better than anyone. He’s worried I’ll lose the plot and confess and put him in the shit, that’s all he’s concerned about.’

‘That’s not true. If I thought that was true I wouldn’t go along with him.’

Billy looked away. ‘You two seem awful friendly these days.’

‘What’s that supposed to mean, Billy? Come on, think about what you’re saying. You need to rest.’

‘And take my medicine, right?’

‘It’s not like that.’

‘We’re going round in circles here.’

He got up to leave but Zoe held his wrist.

‘Remember the tartan taxi,’ she said.

This was a game they played. Revisiting their first kiss. It used to cement their feelings, now it seemed like a reminder of what was lost.

She pulled him on to the bed and he let himself be drawn in. Her smell was sharper than Adele’s, her skin softer and more familiar, her eyes, just different, so very different from Adele’s. He tried to remember the first time, in the back of a lurid cab after some student thing on campus. He kissed her now and she responded, pushing against him, her fingers running up his neck and through the back of his hair. But all he could think about was the body lying on the road, the tick of the car engine, the sudden pain flashing across his head and down his spine. He thought of Adele as he felt Zoe’s tongue in his mouth. This was an unholy mess. Pain bore down across his temples as he kissed Zoe, his hands stationary, his body stiff like rigor mortis.

Jeanie barked, an inquisitive, friendly noise. It was the first time he’d heard her bark. He pulled away from Zoe and looked round. Jeanie was standing by the bed, tail wagging, watching them.

‘I can’t,’ Billy said. ‘Not with Jeanie here.’

‘So put her out the room.’

‘I don’t want to do that.’

Zoe shuffled across the duvet. ‘Fine.’ She swung her legs off the bed and stood up, staring at Billy. ‘I’m going to get something to drink. I’ll leave you two alone.’

She stomped out as hard as she could in bare feet and slammed the door. Jeanie jumped at the noise, her head darting round and back, ears flat on her head.

‘It’s OK, girl,’ Billy said. ‘Everything’s fine.’

*

He was woken by a noise. He sat up. It was humid in the pre-dawn light. Whining and whimpering, the scratching of wood from inside the room.

He shook his head free of sleep and looked round. Jeanie was pacing in a tight circle by the bed, making a keening noise, a horrible plaintive cry.

‘What’s the matter, girl?’

She didn’t seem to hear, just kept walking round and round. She was in a daze, head down, following an untraceable scent.

‘Do you want out, is that it?’

He didn’t know anything about dogs. What was she doing?

He got up and opened the bedroom door. Jeanie didn’t respond, just kept walking. She bumped into the chair and headed in another direction, zombie movements, slow, deliberate. She was still making the same noise, an unsettling, primal cry of discomfort.

‘What is it, girl?’

He walked over and stroked her but she didn’t acknowledge him. Her tail was pointing rigidly downwards. She bumped into the bedside table and turned. Her front legs wobbled a little. That crying sound, like nothing Billy had ever heard.

‘What’s happening?’ Zoe said, sitting up.

‘It’s Jeanie, something’s wrong. She doesn’t seem right.’

The dog made a noise as if the air had just been hammered out of her lungs, then her legs collapsed and she crumpled on to the floor next to her basket. A tremor shot through her limbs and she began convulsing, her chest heaving in and out, all four legs jerking in jolting spasms. It was like a huge electric current was passing through her body. There was a sharp whip-crack noise, and Billy saw her jaw snapping in time with the convulsions through the rest of her body. Her tongue lolled out the side of her mouth and her teeth were digging at it. Her eyes had rolled back in her head, only the whites showing.

Billy scrambled towards her and grabbed hold of her snout. He tried to pull her teeth apart, get his hand in between to stop her biting her tongue off. There was a froth of saliva along the edge of her mouth as he prised her jaws away from each other, enough to get his hand inside. Blood oozed from a wound on her tongue. Her teeth dug into Billy’s hand, one set on the back, the other sinking into his palm. He held his breath at the pain. With his other hand he tried to calm her, stroked her side and head. He was talking to her, reassuring her, not sure even what he was saying, just trying to keep his voice low and calm, despite everything.

And then it was over. Jeanie’s jaws relaxed and her body slackened. Her eyes cleared. She jumped up looking confused and backed away from Billy.

‘It’s OK, girl.’ He extended his bleeding hand towards her.

She didn’t recognise him.

‘What’s happening?’

Zoe shook her head. ‘I don’t know. A seizure of some kind?’

‘Did your dogs ever do this?’

‘No.’

Jeanie was back to padding around, bumping into things, her head and tail lowered, sniffing at nothing.

‘Jeanie,’ he said.

Nothing. He turned to Zoe. ‘She’s not responding. She can’t see me or something.’

Jeanie gradually got more agitated, then began making the same noise as before, a painful and confused whimpering. As she walked, the noise got louder and more frantic. She didn’t know where she was, kept bumping into things.

Zoe dug out her phone. ‘I’ll call my dad, he’ll know an emergency vet.’

She left the room, finger in her ear, Jeanie’s high wail getting stronger and louder.

As the door closed Jeanie slumped to the floor again, flopping on to her side and convulsing with her whole body. Her legs were jerking like she was sprinting along a beach after a ball. Her jaws were clacking together again and Billy grabbed a book from a bookshelf and darted over, prising her teeth apart and pushing the book in between. He pulled her body to his own and tried to hold her, comfort her. He felt the vibrations, the terrible force of it passing through his own body too, setting his nerves alight as he whispered in her ear and stroked her head, her back, down her sides. Her legs were flailing against him, thuds as her paws connected with his thighs.

And then it ended again. It was over, as if it had been switched off. Her body went limp in his arms and the book fell from her mouth as her jaw muscles loosened. She was still breathing frantically, a mix of slaver and blood dribbling from her mouth.

Zoe came back in. ‘Vet will be here as soon as possible.’

‘When will that be?’

‘Quarter of an hour.’

‘Jesus. She had another fit while you were phoning.’

Zoe knelt down and stroked Jeanie’s ears. ‘Poor girl.’

Jeanie jumped up again, wary of her surroundings, staggering on weak legs around the perimeter of the room.

‘Did they say what we should do?’

‘Just try to keep her comfortable and safe till they get here.’

‘God almighty.’

Jeanie had two more fits before the vet arrived, a small one followed by the biggest yet, several minutes of convulsions and thrashing, Billy trying to prevent her swallowing or biting her tongue, making sure she wasn’t near any heavy objects when quaking. He felt helpless and panic-stricken.

The vet was a thickset woman in her forties with short fair hair, and she carried a large medical case. Billy described Jeanie’s fits as well as he could. Jeanie was staggering around the room, weary and desperate, totally confused. She looked right through them as if in a trance. The vet coaxed her to sit then lie down, examined her eyes and mouth then opened her case and took out a large syringe and a vial of liquid.

‘You’ll need to hold her tightly,’ she said to Billy.

Billy stroked Jeanie’s neck. ‘What’s that?’

‘Phenobarbital, it’s an anticonvulsant. It’ll control the seizures. I need to give her a high dosage to begin with, to break the chain reaction of fits.’

She expertly sucked the clear liquid up into the needle, then pushed until there was no air left inside. She put the needle down and showed Billy how to hold the dog, with her body pressed into Billy’s, one hand across the head, the other holding the leg she was going to inject.

‘Now hold on tight, because she’ll flinch.’

Billy could feel the thin bone and sinew of Jeanie’s foreleg in his grip. He could feel her heartbeat thudding against his body. Her eyes were glassy.

The vet approached with the needle and pressed it against the skin. Jeanie’s leg kicked free of Billy’s grasp and the needle flew from the vet’s hand, past Billy’s face, and landed at Zoe’s feet.

The vet reached for the syringe. ‘I told you to hold on tight.’ She checked the tip of the needle again. ‘Now, have you got her?’

Billy nodded. He was scared of breaking her leg if she kicked too hard.

The vet pressed the needle against Jeanie’s leg. Billy felt the thrashing reaction from the dog, but held firm as the fluid got squeezed in, the vet whipping the needle out and quickly strapping a cotton pad against the leg.

Jeanie jumped up as Billy relaxed his grip. She backed away from the three of them, looked around her. Her tail was still pointing at the floor, but her head was raised a little, and she was actually looking at them, making eye contact. She wasn’t walking, just standing still. Billy felt sick. He wanted to explain to her. He couldn’t bear the idea that she thought he was responsible for all this.

The vet was already packing her bag up.

‘She should fall asleep in the next ten minutes, it was a substantial dose. She might be out for up to twelve hours. Keep an eye on her, check she’s still breathing and her heart rate is fine. If there are any more fits or seizures, give me a call immediately.’

She handed a card to Billy. He took it without taking his eyes off Jeanie. The dog was sniffing the air, as if sensing the electrical currents out there.

The vet scribbled in a pad. ‘Here’s a prescription. It’s phenobarbital pills. You’ll need to give her three a day. Your dog is epileptic.’

‘Epileptic?’

‘It’s quite common, especially amongst pedigree dogs due to inbreeding. It mostly affects intelligent breeds like collies. It shouldn’t be life-threatening, but you’ll need to manage the condition for the rest of her life. We can monitor dosages and so forth once things have settled down. These pills have a very high rate of efficacy at controlling seizures, so she has a good chance of a long and happy life.’

Billy nodded dumbly as the vet handed the prescription to him.

‘You’ll get a leaflet with the pills detailing possible side effects. Look out for drowsiness and lack of co-ordination, especially in the first few weeks, although that should wear off as she becomes used to the medication. There is a longer-term risk of liver damage, but that’s nothing to worry about at the moment.’

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