Hunt Hunted Murder Murdered (7 page)

2.
Aidrian

Another sick day call made, and Aid knew he would have to go to work tomorrow or else try and get a sick note from the doctor. He trundled through from the kitchen with his coffee and newspaper. Monica had been off with him again this morning. But he could not go to work with all the shit flying. He settled down to relax and read about the football from last night and to forget all the worries he had. Back page showed some rumours of transfers for Celtic and Rangers and there was even a wee mention about Dunfermline Athletic. Spiv would be happy. He was a big fan and would be delighted that they had managed to get an old SPL pro playing with them as they pushed for promotion from the First Division. But the relaxed air was short lived as the postman delivered some more bad news. As he approached the doorway he foresaw the bad news which was within that envelope. Suddenly it had become real. Aidrian knew he would have to speak to Mon and all of this would have to come out. He had been suspended on full pay pending inquiry into financial irregularities. His bosses had found out and now he would need to speak to Bob and let him know that they were both in trouble. No more secrets. No more lies. They would have to be straight...

Another sup of coffee wouldn't make this go away. No wonder some people turned to drink. Bob was not going to be happy, but it was too late to change their minds. They had taken the cash when it seemed like easy money, so they would have to take the medicine now. He picked up his mobile to speak to his friend. It was not going to be an enjoyable conversation.

4.3 Aid and Bob

The Job centre had been in the town centre for years, and Aid had walked past looking at the smokers gathering outside as the desperate looked for any job going, and the chancer's looked at the jobs they could not get. Bob was walking up the High Street, face like fizz. The news he received from Aid had not been greeted with much response, mainly because Marie was in the background when the phone rang. So they needed to talk.

'I'm no going in there yet. We need to go over this. Surely there is a way out. If not Marie is going to kill me. Or worse...leave me!'

Aid considered fleetingly the possibility that death might be best and least painful option. But suicide was no option for him nor for Bob. They just needed to get used to what they had to do; and face up to their partners.

'Right. What’s the options?' Bob started.

'I don't think we have any'.

Silence gripped them. They supped double shot Starbucks Grande lattes, looking at each other with stony faces. Then Bob’s expression began to change, and a smirk appeared.

'Maybe we'll be in the same cell!'

Aid took a humoured breath and smiled back.

'It’s the right thing to do'. Bob nodded. They had been foolish and as they gripped each other by their right hands across the table they felt strong.

'When you gonna tell Mon?'

'When you gonna tell Marie?'

A sigh and a deep breath out. They both knew it was coming.

'Well if I'm heading to jail there’s something I need to do before I get there!'

'What’s that then?'

'Get a fuckin’ job for a start!'. The Job Centre awaited them.

4.4 Emma and Tom

Tom was showering. Emma was snuggled into the corner of the easy chair. Daytime TV blared unique domestic problems at her and she popped a malteser into her mouth as she flicked over a magazine page. The post had been, but no word of the job. Hmmph. No text or phone call. No news is good news, she thought. The interview had gone OK. She had entered without nerves and had answered questions she had been told to by the job advisor.

'So why do you want this job Emma?' she had been asked.

'I have experience working in an office, I have good computer skills, and I really want to work in the city. It is my ambition to work for a good employer, which I believe you are from the information you have on your website, and from the agency I spoke with.' They had been impressed. There was even some light relief when the manager spilled her coffee and Emma had quickly got her paper hankies out of her bag and mopped up the mess. 'I've also got good housekeeping skills' she added. The phone buzzed. Not her mobile, but Tom's. He was still upstairs. He slept late on his days at home and then pissed off to play golf or to see his mates. Emma sometimes felt like a Navy wife, like lots of the other women round here. Some of them kept themselves to themselves, others were out and about and some, worse still, had a reputation. But it was boring sitting at home waiting for your man to come back, and worrying when you were glad to see him going off to work for days and weeks at a time. Who was calling Tom? She flicked open his mobile. Text from Jack. Who's Jack? Emma put the phone down again. Tom and his secrets. She popped another chocolate treat into her mouth, still looking at the phone. The shower went off upstairs.

'Where's ma Ben Sherman shirt?'

'Should be in the wardrobe' Emma shouted back. Tom would be a while tarting himself up. She admitted to herself that she was still attracted to him. He always looked presentable, and smelled nice, but she worried that this preening wasn't always for her. She picked up his phone again. Text from Jack. She moved her finger across the screen and the message opened up.

Look 4ward 2 c u l8r. x

The shit. The utter shit. Emma stayed seated. She would have it out with Tom.

'I can't find it', Tom shouted again.

'Who is Jack?'

There was a moments silence before Tom responded.' What?'

'Jack just texted you. Who's Jack?'

'Just a mate'. The lying shit.

'OK'.

Tom hurriedly came downstairs looking for his phone.

'It's over here'. Emma handed him the phone.

'You read it?'

'Yes'

Tom read the message and laughed.

'He's a clown. What a guy'.

'A guy. You picking up guys now?'

'Just a guy I drove up from Carlisle one time. He gives me a shout when he's in Dunfermline so we can catch up and have a drink.'

Emma said nothing.

'What you reading my texts for anyway?'

'I wasn't. I was just seeing who was texting'.

'Well it's nowt to do with you. Nosy bitch'.

'Whatever'.

'Emm, don't start. I don't go looking at your phone'

'No you don't. You don't see all the secret people I have on my phone'. Emma got up and walked through to the kitchen.

'Whats your problem?'

Emma stood back in full view of Tom.

'So you are telling me Jack is a guy. You are full of shit'.

'Fuck sake Emma, I just told you'.

'Do all your mates look forward to seeing you and leave a wee kiss? Eh'.

'You’re a loon. You have been reading my texts. I don't know. You have nae trust at all. Why are you here? You are a fuckin’ loony. A lunatic. Give me some credit. You think I would put girls’ names in my phone.'

'Jack? Jack’s a boy’s name. So tell me, where are you going this afternoon?'

'Out'

'With?'

'Jack. He's only up for the day'

'He?'

'Fuck off Emm. I don't need to justify myself to your make-believe world'.

Tom stormed out of the room, and up the stairs. Emma came back through from the kitchen with a family size bag of crisps, opened it and sat back in her chair.

She heard Tom slamming drawers and cursing after stubbing a toe against the bed end. Then he rumbled down the stairs. Emma listened as he paused outside the living room. The front door slammed and Emma sat alone again.

4.5 Pam and Simon

Pam lay on the bed breathing in the fumes coming from Spiv. Beer and vodka had been in abundance at the College Student Bar last night. She had joined him after finishing some class work, and had to pull him away from a dark-haired fresher who had tabs on her man. He had been so drunk that he probably didn't even notice the little trollop’s advances, Pam had thought. But she taught her a lesson, grabbing her hair and giving her a warning with a swift slap across the face in the toilets before carting her Simon back to her room. Pam was worried. Si had been away with Bob all day, and he was vacant when they had spoken on the phone.

'Whassat', Spiv growled and turned over in the single bed.

'Morning', Pam chirped. She could tell he was struggling. He would have a bad head for a while, so she could tinker and shower and preen and prettify. She could watch him lying there and plan for him - and her. Live out dreams in her head. She smiled and rubbed his back. Spiv growled or grunted again.

Pam got up and, in the dim light of the morning sun creeping in through the tiny lodging window, she searched quickly for a towel and her housecoat in case Spiv caught glimpse of her horrible frame. He could see her bust but not her fat butt, she thought. She held the towel round her waist, looking over at her man lying in deep slumber. She held a pose with her breast hanging out, but no movement, so she dropped the towel and quick as a flash she had the housecoat on, and was strolling through to the shower room.

'I'm going for a shower OK?'

No grunt. Nothing. Pam hoped Spiv wasn't in any trouble. She knew that he couldn't be in too much trouble. She would always protect her man. She shut the shower room door while Spiv continued to snore gently.

5

‘I think
I
might have done it!’.

Everyone laughed and Bob tossed a cushion across the room at Aid, who chuckled and slumped back into the comfort of the sofa.

'You fanny, the game tells you if you are the murderer. I guess it isn't you then'

'Don't throw the cushions, you'll end up spilling someone’s drink', Marie perched on her seat anxiously.

'Don't worry, OK', Bob reassured her. Marie gulped down her large vodka and diet coke and made for the kitchen, followed by Tom’s stare as she did. She glared over at him before disappearing from view.

'So who's next?' Bob clapped his hands together as he tried to keep the game going, but everyone had lost interest now as the alcohol took hold.

'To be honest Bob, I thought it was a bit distasteful havin a murder night after what happened to Dev', Tom spoke out then guzzled some more beer.

'It was meant to be a bit of fun'

'Just saying...'

'Well just don't!' Marie stuck her head round from the kitchen, Mon stepped forward to make her way to Marie, sensing something was about to kick off.

'I mean Dev is lying 6 feet under efter murdering a poor wee lass, and here we are laughin and jokin about something no a kick in the arse off it'

'It was meant to be fun, Tom, Ok'. Bob tried to smooth things over, but it was too late as Marie stormed through armed with a sharp tongue and alcohol for munitions.

'Well, Tom, at least we can laugh when we are all here together – instead of crying and cowering in a corner when we end up left alone in a room wi you'.

Tom was taken aback, and momentarily lost his usual swagger, looking briefly at Emma before making his attempt at a retort.

'What d'you mean by that?'

Marie turned away saying loudly enough 'You know fine and well, and I'm surprised Emm just sits there takin it. Prick.' Marie's voice rang through the room as she again found solace in the kitchen, tearfully embracing Monica. The company became uneasy. Tom stood up looking for some support, which was not forthcoming as eyes looked at the floor.

Bob reluctantly went to Marie. “What was all that about?'. She pushed him off, as Mon re-entered the living room. Aid looked up from his can, catching Tom’s eye. 'Fuckin hell, yer all in it together', Tom shouted at no-one in particular, but aimed directly at Aid.

'If you weren't all so scared of your secrets, maybe we could all enjoy a night out instead of this shit'

'Fuck off Tom', Bob held Marie back as she made for Tom. 'Your fuckin secrets have cost me, and Mon and probably hundreds of others. But no more. Get out of my house.'

'Calm yer missus down Bob. It's getting embarrassing'.

Bob spoke to Marie, who was distraught and slumped to her knees in the kitchen doorway. 'What you saying to me Marie?' Tom pulled at his coat from behind a chair, and glanced over at Emma who sat quietly looking at the wall.

'Fuck this shit. If I told ye anything you just wouldn't believe me. Yer a shallow bunch. Aid, look at ye. You’re the fuckin brains of our wee group of friends and yer a miserable sod who has gambled away a good life so yer wife has to go on the game just to make ends meet.'

'That’s enough', Bob stormed over and lamped Tom in the jaw, the hit taking him down onto his knee - 'Get out. Now.'

Monica stood mouth agape, before heading purposefully off to the toilet out the back.

'Gladly', Tom got back to his feet.

'Ye know, we are all guilty here. Not just me. Take a look at yerselves and tell me you have no reason to feel guilty. Bob? Spiv? Marie? Go fuck yersels'. With that he left, slamming the door behind him, and leaving Emma sitting while reality bit.

'You alright Emm?'

'Maybe I should go...'

'Don't be stupid... stay.'

The group stayed fairly quiet. Marie followed Monica to the loo.

'You alright Mon?'

'Yeah. Fine' she snivelled from behind the door.

'He's away now'.

'Yeah. I know. But it's all coming out. I'm so stupid for ever getting involved with Tom. It was just stupid.'

'Listen. No-one is asking you to justify anything. You are with friends.'

'What about Aid though. I really love him. I don't want to lose him', Marie hadn't noticed Aid standing nearby.

'It's alright Mon. Everything will be OK. I'm so sorry you have put yourself through this because of me.'

'Oh god, Aid. I'm so sorry. What can I do?'

'You don't have to be sorry. Everything will be OK. We all make mistakes. We can all mend our ways. So long as you are alright.'

Mon still wept behind the door, while Marie walked away, gesturing to Aid.

'I know Mon. I've always known that Stephen isn't my boy'.

Mon stopped sniffing.

'Truth is, it doesn't make a blind bit of difference to me. Don't get me wrong, I used to think about it. About Stephen being Dev's boy, but it doesn't change the way I look at him. My lad. Or the way I think about you. I just always wanted to be with you, and I was so pleased you learned to love me.'

The door unlocked and Aid stepped back. 'I love you Mon, always have and always will'. She grabbed at him, snuggled in tight to his chest and wept freely.

Spiv sat supping his can. 'This has been a blast Bob. Anything else we should know?'

Bob cleared some drinks away, removing Tom’s can and sweeping some crumbs onto the floor.

'I don't have anything else. You?'

'You know me. Live the life of a devout Christian. Ha ha.’ Spiv kissed Pam's head and she smiled a false smile, looking like she wished she was somewhere else.

' What about Dev then?' Bob said and turned around to face the crowd, not pointing the question at anyone in particular.

Spiv sat in silence. Emma looked at Bob waiting for him to finish the story.

'What do you mean?’ Pam asked.

'All I'm throwing out there is that I have reason to believe Dev did not kill that girl'. His nonchalant manner had opened a wound, but no-one followed up immediately.

Emma finally broke the silence. 'But the police obviously went through all the evidence and must have had a good reason to claim that he did'.

'The police had a crime scene and an easy opportunity to tie up loose ends'

'Mebbes aye, Mebbes naw, but what's the point in going there again?' Spiv joined in.

'Well one - Dev was a mate. Two - I knew Dev and he was no killer – albeit he liked the younger females. Three...' Spiv interrupted. ‘Three - Dev was a patsy killed by a rampaging father who'd already killed his own daughter... why can we not leave it there and get on with our lives?'

'Because after all that time, we know more than we are letting on. At least someone here does because the game pointed Dev to his fate and that was not an accident.'

Aid and Mon returned to the room, Marie touching Mon’s arm.

'We're gonna hit the road. Cheers Bob'.

'Just a minute mate. Mind what you said about Dev. Remember we talked about it.'

'Yeah, what?'

'What was it you said about the whole thing being wrong?'

'All I said was that Dev couldn't have done it.' Aid bent behind the couch to grab a couple of coats. ' Ian Ingram killed him, or maybe even didn't kill him, as he maintains, and maybe someone else had it in for Dev – for whatever reason, and set him up for it. But then, maybe Ingram did it all...'

'But maybe not – that’s the thing. And', Bob turned to all who are listening, 'if it wasn't Ingram, then it could only have been someone who played the treasure hunt, since we were the only ones who made up the clues.’ He paused for added effect.

’Someone definitely changed a clue'.

'Could that have been someone in the pub?’ Pam asked.

'Christ’, Spiv got involved again, ‘that could have been Ingram trying to blame someone else. Let’s just forget this. Dev's dead. Us getting het up about it isn't going to bring him back'.

Things quietened down, kissed cheeks and cheerios followed, and Aid lead Mon hand in hand away from Bob and Marie's. Emma followed and they escorted her home, leaving Spiv, Pam, Bob and Marie stewing with late night booze.

Music and chat followed, until inebriated persons started to nod off.

'That’s the thing though. The thing Aid has'.

'Whassat?' Spiv slurred

'Ingram's letters'

'Yeah, but he's just looking for an early release'.

'Not just those letters though. The parcel. He sent a parcel too.'

Spiv appeared to become more alert and Pam tugged at his arm, ‘Can we get going soon, I think I need my bed'.

'What parcel?'