Numb: A Dark Thriller (13 page)

17

Besides the many illegal ways Mike Nash earned his living, he did manage to stay within the law with some of his dealings so that he could be seen as a legitimate businessman in the eyes of the police and Inland Revenue. Aside from the money made through his clubs, bars and restaurant he also owned several properties which he either rented out or sold for a profit when the market was right. Out of the six properties he currently held the deeds to, he only used two as a form of residence. One was a two bedroom luxury penthouse apartment down by the riverside and the other was the five bedroom mansion here on the outskirts of the city centre which had been his main home for the last ten years and which he shared with Sandra and Wendy, faking happy families.

Twenty minutes after leaving Carter’s house, Riley pulled up outside the mansion’s huge gates where a uniformed police officer was standing guard. Obviously the Thirnbridge force thought that Nash and his family might still be in danger and had wanted to show that the family were fully protected. And that solitary constable, all five-foot four of him, in his dark uniform and luminous jacket and no weapons bar his pepper spray and truncheon, was obviously one hell of a bodyguard if he was going to save them from nutcases wielding automatic weapons all by himself.

“Can I help you, sir?” the PC asked when Riley climbed out of the car and approached the gates.

“I’m a friend of Miss Wade’s,” he said, hiding the bloodstained tear on his jacket with his arm. Not that the copper was looking down there. He was staring Riley in the face. Scrutinizing him. Working him out whilst wearing the usual suspicious policeman’s look that said no one could be trusted.

“I’m not to let anyone in, sir,” he said, politely.

“I spoke to Mr Purvis on the phone earlier,” Riley said, equally politely. “He’s in there with Mrs Wade – Mike Nash’s partner. He’s expecting me.”

“And you are...?”

“I already said. I’m a friend. I-”

A female voice suddenly crackled out from the intercom box on the gates.

“It’s alright, let him it.”

Riley looked towards the house, past the long driveway and sprawling lawns and could see Sandra at the front door. She’d obviously seen him arrive from the bay window at the front of the house and suspected he’d have trouble getting past ‘security’.

“Okay, sir.” The policeman stepped aside as the gates opened electronically.

Riley left his car and headed up the driveway on foot, the gravel crunching beneath him and it took almost a full minute to reach the front door.

He’d barely stepped over the threshold before Sandra, still dressed in her party outfit, wrapped her arms around him and buried her head into his chest.

“Oh, Riley,” she said, fighting back tears. “It’s terrible, it’s just terrible. Poor Michael.”

“There’s nothing anyone can do about Michael,” he replied, not knowing what else to say. “How are you and Wendy?”

Sandra pulled away from him. Wiped her nose with the tissue she clutched. Her make-up had smudged a little and her eyes were red and puffy. It still didn’t detract from her good looks, though.

“We’re fine,” Sandra said as she led Riley inside the hallway that was larger than his whole apartment. “Wendy’s okay. She’s too young to understand. I told her something had gone wrong with a firework display or some nonsense – I can’t really remember. Purvis is getting her to sleep.” She suddenly started crying again. “God, she could’ve been killed...”

“But she wasn’t,” Riley said, putting his arm around her. “Come on, let’s go sit down.”

He led Sandra into the equally luxurious living room and they both sank onto the leather sofa.

“Mike’s being kept in the hospital overnight,” she said when she’d calmed down a little. “A doctor called half an hour ago. They’ve removed two bullets from his shoulder but that’s not why they’re keeping him in. They had to sedate him because he was screaming and crying so much over Michael.” She paused. Sniffed her nose. “I feel so bad.”

“Don’t. This was hardly your fault.”

“I don’t mean about the shooting. I mean for wanting to leave him.”

“Nash is hardly the perfect partner or father, and you don’t love him. Tonight doesn’t change that fact.”

“No, I mean I feel bad because I
still
want to leave him – even after what’s happened tonight. But I can’t can I? I’m not a heartless bitch. I know I don’t love him but I can’t run off just after he’s lost his son. I need to be there for him. Help him plan the funeral and everything. Dylan and I were looking to leave in the next month or so. Now we can’t.”

“You have to do what you think is best for you and Wendy,” Riley said. “Think about your safety. This attack probably won’t be a one-off. It’ll be dangerous for you to hang around.”

Sandra shook her head and rubbed her eyes with the palms of her hands. She so looked tired. So defeated.

“I don’t know what to do, Riley,” she said. “I just don’t know...”

Then a voice from the doorway asked: “Don’t know what?”

Riley turned to see Purvis striding into the room. He’d obviously caught the tail-end of the conversation.

He shook Riley’s hand. Then, speaking to Sandra softly, he said, “I’ve read Wendy a story but she wants you to lie with her until she falls asleep.”

Sandra nodded and stood up.

“Oh, Riley, I’m sorry. I haven’t offered you a drink.”

“I’m fine,” he told her. “You just go see to Wendy.”

Purvis kissed Sandra lightly on the forehead. She took hold of his hand and gave it a squeeze before leaving the room. Purvis then took a seat next to Riley. He snorted a laugh and shook his head, as if he’d just been told a sick joke.

“I know I wanted an excuse to spend more time with them but I didn’t want this.”

Riley raised his eyebrows.

“Really?” he asked.

Purvis frowned and asked, “What?”

Riley decided to cut to the chase and said, “Look, I’m your friend. Tell me the truth, no bullshit. Did you have anything to do with this?”

Purvis let out an audible gasp, like the wind had been knocked out of him.

“No,” he said, shocked to his core. “How can you even think that?”

“Someone wanted Nash dead,” Riley pointed out. “You have a reason for that, the reason being Sandra and Wendy. You were planning on leaving in a month and you know Nash would look for you. You also know that Nash has a way of finding people – no matter how far they run. Killing him would make things simpler for you. So, if you had anything to do with what went down tonight tell me now.”

Purvis snorted another laugh, as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He walked to the drinks cabinet and poured himself a short. Just like earlier in the club, he downed it neat.

“What would you do if I did have something to do with it?” he asked, staring out the window at the rain.

Riley wasn’t sure what he’d do. For now, he just wanted to know the truth.

“Just tell me,” he said calmly.

Purvis poured another drink and took a huge swallow. Then, looking into his glass, he said, “Sandra and Wendy could’ve been killed tonight. Would I have risked a hit on Nash knowing that they could’ve been shot?”

Riley had already considered that, but it still wasn’t enough to convince him. Purvis had never lied to him before. They trusted each other.

“I just want to hear you say that you had nothing to do with it.”

“I thought I just did,” Purvis said. He downed his drink and turned to face Riley. “I had
nothing
to do with this. I swear on my life – and on Sandra and Wendy’s life.”

And that was all Riley needed to hear.

“I just had to know,” he said. “Because this stinks of a set up.”

“Set up? You mean an inside job?”

“Yeah.”

“But who?” asked Purvis. “And why?”

“That’s what I’ve been wondering. I figure the shooters were probably paid to take Nash out by someone else. You know the game. There’re probably a couple of hundred people in Thirnbridge willing to kill someone for a few quid.”

“And you think that someone in the firm hired them?”

“Think about it,” Riley said. “How did they know where Nash would be? How did they time it so that they drove past as we all went outside? Someone was obviously informing them about Nash’s movements.”

Purvis shook his head.

“I think you’re looking too deep into this, Riley,” he said. “I told you earlier, Dainton’s behind this, it’s obvious.”

“But how would Dainton know where and when to strike?”

“Because Dainton’s a sneaky bastard, that’s why. He would’ve been planning this for a while. The fact the club was closed to the public was common knowledge. He could’ve had some of his men on the street watching for Nash to step outside at anytime during the party. Then they call the gunmen who race around the corner and do the job.”

Riley thought about it. No, it still didn’t seem to fit. Besides, something was nagging him. Something that happened just before the shooting. What was it...?

“I take it you think the call alerting the shooters came from someone inside the club?” Purvis then asked.

“Yeah, that’s why I asked you if you anything to do with it.” Riley smiled, feeling embarrassed now. “You disappeared from the table just before Nash called us all out. Perfect opportunity.”

“I went for a drink,” Purvis said. “And I was downstairs when the shooting started. I would hardly put myself in the line of fire if I knew what was going to happen, would I?”

Wouldn’t you?
Riley thought.
It would be the perfect alibi.

Suddenly, he remembered what he’d seen earlier.

“Were the security cameras on tonight,” he asked Purvis. “The ones out front, watching the entrance?”

“Yeah.”

“Have the police taken the footage to examine?”

“No, not yet. They’ll be useless anyway. You can’t see the road. Just the front of the club where we were all standing - and we all know what happened there.”

“Do we?” Riley said. He got to his feet. “Look, Sandra and Wendy’ll be okay on their own for an hour or so. Plus PC Plod’s outside, I’ve seen him. No one will mess with them if he’s on guard. Have you still got the keys to the club on you?”

“Yeah,” Purvis said, frowning. “I had to lock up tonight. Why?”

“You and me have to go back there and look at that footage.”

“What, now?”

“Right now.”

“Why, what’re you looking for?”

Riley was already at the front door.

“It’ll be better if I show you,” he said. “Get your coat and let’s go.”

18

The front of the club was cordoned off with police tape and a white forensic tent had been erected around the spot where the victims had fallen. The area was crawling with uniformed officers and forensic experts in crinkly white overalls.

Riley drove around the back and parked in the same bay as earlier.

“Look.” Purvis pointed towards the steps leading up to the staff entrance.

A uniformed officer was standing there, looking like the twin brother of the one back at Nash’s mansion; same uniform; same stance; same miserable face.

“It’ll be okay,” Riley said. “Just make something up. Say we have to collect something from inside. The crime scene’s out front. There’s no reason not to let us in the back entrance.”

“He’s a copper,” Purvis said. “He’ll think of something.”

“Then we’ll just have to convince him otherwise.”

With that, Riley climbed out the Merc and Purvis followed him across the pitch black car park towards the staff door.

As expected, the officer stopped them with an outstretched hand and a polite, “Sorry, gents, but the place is closed.”

No shit, Sherlock!
Riley thought.
What gave it away?

“We know,” Purvis said. “We we’re here earlier when the shooting happened. We work for Mike Nash.” He showed his ID card he’d brought along especially. It showed his smiling face and important job title underneath.

The officer studied it for a moment. Then said, “Can I ask why you’re back here now?”

Riley looked at Purvis, who didn’t hesitate to answer the officer’s question.

“I had to take Mr Nash’s partner and daughter home,” he said. “But Sandra – that’s Mr Nash’s partner – has left her handbag here. It has her daughter’s inhaler inside. Wendy suffers from asthma. It’s only a mild form but with the shock she’s had and the amount she’s been crying she’s a little wheezy tonight.”

“I see,” the officer said. His face and tone of voice didn’t give away if he believed the story or not. He just... saw.

“So can we nip inside and get it?” Purvis asked.

Riley was expecting the officer to contemplate the question for a moment or two - maybe even radio in to ask his superior - but the sick child thing must have worked on him. Children always got to people. Riley knew that only too well. He still had nightmares about one in particular.

“Yeah, go on,” the officer said. He then pointed at Riley. “You have to stay out here, though.”

“He works for Mr Nash, too,” Purvis said. “Besides, we’ll find it quicker if there’re two of us. God knows where Sandra left her handbag. You know what women are like.”

The officer hesitated this time. Chewed his bottom lip. But then...

“Right, quick as you can,” he said, thumbing back at the stairs leading up to the door. “Have you got-?”

“Keys?” Purvis said and jangled them in the air. “Yeah, all sorted. Thanks officer.”

The two of them raced up the flight of stairs.

“Has Wendy really got asthma?” Riley asked when they reached the top.

“No,” Purvis said as he unlocked the door. “She had a recurring chest infection last year and the doctor gave her an inhaler just in case it
was
asthma.” They stepped inside and he unset the alarm. “I haven’t a clue where it is though - she hasn’t needed it for months.”

Once in the security office, Purvis sat down in front of the digital recorder and monitors. One of them showed the scene outside the main entrance in real time; police officers walking back and forth around the white tent.

He pressed a few buttons and the image froze for a second before rewinding at thirty times the normal speed.

Watching time move in reverse was surreal.

Ghostly forms flashed to and fro, silent and flickering in black and white. After a few minutes the white tent was dismantled by two white suited figures, revealing bloodstains on the concrete. Soon after the paramedics walked backwards into view and dumped the black body-bag on the ground. They moved like figures in old silent movies, faster than real life with jerking, unnatural movements. They opened the bag, took out Michael junior’s corpse and walked away. Then they hurried back and hovered over his body, twitching and fidgeting. Several more hazy figures then appeared on screen. One was Nash who stood over the body of his son. Riley could also make out McCabe, Turner and Howden amongst several police officers and paramedics. The woman with the hole in her leg was then carried back on screen and dumped beside him with the help of a paramedic. Two others then dropped the man who had been gut-shot off a stretcher and began tending to his wound. Then more guests and the two doormen arrived as the police and paramedics left.

As the time counter in the corner of the screen back-tracked to 21:37, Nash, looking like some twisted demonic form, climbed under the body of Michael junior, looking as if he was being pushed under by Turner and McCabe who must have helped him to his feet. Several more guests then hurried back into shot, including Purvis, Sandra and Wendy.

21.33, and a crowd of people ran backwards into view, got to their knees, then to their feet. Nash and Michael suddenly pivoted into a standing position. The gut-shot man jumped up too, and the hole in the woman’s leg suddenly disappeared as she too appeared to float back up onto two legs. Then everyone but the two doormen walked into the club, backwards.

Purvis then pressed PLAY. There was still no sound but the picture was a lot crisper in real time.

Nash and Michael junior were first out of the club, followed quickly by the crowd of guests, all standing between the two concrete pillars that were just visible on the edge of the shot. There was Sandra, and Wendy, and there was Purvis fighting his way to them. Riley saw himself at the back of the crowd near the doormen as Nash began talking and waving up the road. Then the shadow of the Aston Martin appeared on the right of the screen, the car itself just outside the width of the lens. Then McCabe walked into view having climbed out of the car as Michael junior hugged his father.

A few seconds later, there were several bright flashes just off screen, and Nash and his son fell to the floor as the crowd dropped to their knees and the glass doors shattered behind them.

Watching from this angle, Riley could actually see the blood squirt from Michael junior’s head and splatter onto the front of his father’s suit before they both collapsed to the floor. It looked more like chocolate syrup in black and white, all thick and dark and mud-like. Then, a few seconds later, he saw himself running forward and out of shot as he jumped into the Aston Martin. More importantly, in the background, almost hidden if you didn’t look for it, he saw what he’d expected to see.

“Rewind it,” he said, wanting to make sure his eyes weren’t playing tricks on him.

Purvis did so.

Seconds later, Nash and his son were walking out the doors again.

“What are we looking at?” Purvis asked.

Riley pointed to the screen and said, “Watch, you can see when the shooting starts because of the glare of the muzzle flash just off screen. Watch the crowd when it happens.”

Purvis did and shrugged.

“Everyone panicked,” he said. “They were shocked. Not expecting it.”

“You didn’t see anyone act differently?”

Purvis shook his head and rewound the footage again.

“Watch McCabe,” Riley said.

Both men sat in silence, their eyes fixed on the screen as McCabe walked around Nash and Michael junior towards the back of the crowd.

“There!” Riley said. “Did you see it?”

“No. What?”

“Play it again and slow the speed.”

Purvis did, using a fat, round dial on the recorder.

“Watch McCabe,” Riley said. “Watch his
face
.”

McCabe, at half normal speed, climbed out of the car and walked towards Nash and Michael. Then, obviously assuming no one would be paying attention to him, he sneaked a glance in the direction of the side street where the Peugeot had come from whilst everyone else was engrossed in the father and son about to hug it out over the surprise gift. What was more, before anyone else had moved he’d positioned himself directly behind one of the concrete pillars, blocking him from the road at least four or five seconds before the Peugeot must have pulled up and the shooting started.

Purvis’s mouth fell open.

“It’s like he took cover before the shots were fired,” he said.

“Exactly,” Riley said. He looked at the screen as Purvis hit a couple of buttons and those several seconds began to repeat on a loop, highlighting McCabe’s actions even more. “I saw it at the time but it didn’t have time to register before all hell broke loose. I saw McCabe look behind me towards the side street, as if he knew something was coming.”

Both men watched the footage a few more times.

“It looks more suspicious the more you watch it,” Purvis then said. “What do you think?”

“I don’t know what to think,” Riley replied. “I suppose this still doesn’t really prove anything. Maybe we’re just seeing what we want to see. McCabe could just say he was walking around the pillar to get to the back of the crowd without having to fight his way through them. He could say that he wasn’t looking towards the side street but just turning his head. Plus, what better excuse does McCabe have than the fact that he was right there when the shooting happened, just like you pointed out earlier. He could’ve been hit. Two others were – Howden nearly was! It was a hell of a chance to take with amateur hit-men like these.”

“We both know McCabe’s a crazy fucker,” Purvis said, already sounding convinced of his colleague’s guilt. “He’d have the balls to take that sort of chance. But why would he want Nash dead?”

“That’s a good question,” Riley said. “And one I don’t have an answer for.”

Both men remained silent for a moment. Then Purvis asked, “So what do we do about this?”

Riley thought for a moment. Then he looked at his watch.

“We’ve been in here fifteen minutes,” he said. “So first I suggest we go and tell the copper outside that Sandra’s just called you and said she’s found Wendy’s inhaler in her coat pocket at home.” He looked back at the screen. At McCabe - the prime suspect. “As for this, we keep it to ourselves for now.”

“Why?” Purvis asked. “I say we show this to Nash and let
him
decide if McCabe’s involved or not.”

Riley stared at his friend and smirked. Yes, it was certainly easy to become institutionalised working for Nash. Even if you didn’t want to, at times it was hard not to be a servant to him.

“Why are you so bothered about Nash?” he asked.

“What do you mean?” replied Purvis.

“Whoever was behind this could’ve done you a favour by getting rid of him.”

“We’ve already been through that. I had nothing to do with-”

“I know you had nothing to do with this,” Riley said. “That’s not what I meant. I just find it funny that you want to do what’s right for Nash despite the situation you’re in with Sandra.”

“Well I think it’s funny that you wanted to see the footage but you aren’t going to do anything about it?” Purvis replied.

“Who said I’m not going to do anything?”

“You did. Just now.”

“No, I said I wasn’t going to show Nash this,” Riley said. “As for wanting to see the footage, I like to know what’s going on that’s all. I smelled an inside job and wanted to see if there was any evidence to back it up. I think we’ve found it, but it isn’t conclusive. Plus, McCabe’s worked for Nash a lot longer than I have and if I go accusing him of something without solid proof I’m just causing trouble for myself. So no, we aren’t going to show this to Nash. As for you, forget you’ve even seen it. It’ll be safer.”

“What do you mean, safer?”

“Eject the disc and keep it somewhere where no one will find it. Keep it at your other house. If anyone asks you tell them the security cameras weren’t recording because the club wasn’t officially open. Don’t show this to anyone.”

“Why? What are you planning?”

Riley watched the footage one more time. McCabe was involved somehow, he was sure. That meant the firm was breaking up. The good ‘ole days were over. The end was coming.

“Something,” he said. “I just don’t know what it is yet.”