Sins of the Father (33 page)

“
Okay, we
already know that Duncan Sims and Joe Wood go back a long way. They
had the kind of loyalty that comes from childhood. I started from
there, and take a guess who else they were friends
with?”

“
John Meeks?”
Brad guessed.

“
Exactly
right. They both had the skills to go really far in this business,
so money as a motivation just didn’t cut it. I knew it had to be
more than that.”

“
It was
loyalty, or a warped sense of it. Paul played on that. How much
contact did they have with him?” Kelvin asked.

“
That’s where
it gets interesting. After I found the link, it was easy to piece
together the rest. I managed to get the visitors list for the
facility that housed John Meeks. His mother appears like clockwork
every month, and she was always alone. Paul Meeks, as we know,
practically lived there. But John also received regular visits from
two school friends.

Kelvin perched on the end
of JJ’s desk and looked at the information displayed on his
computer screen. “So they were subject to a lot of Paul’s
delusions.”

“
Yes, I
imagine he brainwashed them pretty well. Enough that they felt
justified in helping him. What isn’t clear is Paul’s reasons for
punishing Alicia. All we really know is that he’s a very determined
and methodical man.” JJ paused to throw a look at Brad. He had to
be wondering exactly what Meeks had in store for her. “He financed
their training and used one of his old contacts to get them a foot
in the door. All they had to do was gain the trust of their team,
and wait for Paul to make his move.”

“
Okay, but
all that doesn’t help us find Alicia.” Brad could feel the anger
rearing its ugly head again – he just couldn’t tame the beast. He
didn’t want to.

“
It helps us
to understand their motivations when we get a minute alone with
them.”

Kelvin was thinking about
what he’d like to do with his minute. “We have to find them
first.”

“
Detective
Potts arrested them twenty minutes ago.”

Brad was at the door
before JJ had a chance to catch his breath. He didn’t need to say
where he was going.

“
Stay in
contact,” Kelvin shouted after him. He turned to JJ. “Boy, are they
lucky he managed to work off some steam. I still wouldn’t like to
be in the same room with him, but at least they have a chance
now.”

“
Let’s hope
Potts has more sense and keeps him behind the curtain.”

Kelvin laughed at the
notion. He doubted anyone could stop him. Brad was involved and
there was nothing Potts or anyone could do about that.

***

Paul stared at Alicia’s
body on the cold stone floor and felt a trickle of fear roll down
his back. He was beginning to suspect he’d miscalculated the
dosage. The sedative had been necessary, but in hindsight, he
should have been better prepared.

He started his incessant
pacing again, trying to figure out where he’d gone wrong. It didn’t
help and he’d wasted almost two hours hypothesising. It was time to
take action.

He retrieved a piece of
rope from the workbench and slung it around his neck so that his
hands were free. For the next ten minutes, he exerted himself by
transferring Alicia to a wooden chair. It wasn’t easy; she was as
floppy as a rag doll.

When he was satisfied she
was secure, he tied her to the chair, kneeling a moment to catch
his breath. For several heart-stopping minutes, when he saw the
vulnerability on Alicia’s sleeping face, he wondered if he’d made a
mistake. Until his mind cleared again and he realised the devil
himself would show some kind of vulnerability whilst he
slept.

He bit down on a surge of
hysteria at the thought. She certainly wasn’t the devil, but she
was as wicked as her mother. He’d known it the moment he’d read
about Gray Jackson’s accident and the poor boy who was caught in
the cross fire.

So he’d watched her rise
to fame, taking what she wanted, and plotted a way to make her pay.
He would avenge his son’s death, not by killing Helen, but by
killing the carbon copy of her – the one with power to do the most
damage.

The hatred he felt for
Helen Fairfax had faded a long time ago. The doctor had helped him
to see she was a damaged and confused woman who had made a mistake
and paid for it. He knew Helen had married a respectable man and
was living a quiet life, out of the spotlight. It helped him to
imagine that she faced her sins every time she looked in the
mirror. The doctor had paid heavily for her vanity, but she would
never be free of the scars.

More than once, he’d
wondered about her decision to start afresh, abandoning her own
children. Now he could see that she’d been afraid of her own
daughter, recognising the evil within. She was a weak woman who had
been unable to stand up and take care of her son, but he knew from
experience not all women were made for the role. John’s own mother
had washed her hands of them after the accident. Her visits were a
token of keeping with the image of her family’s name.

Paul stood, feeling his
head spin with all the thoughts racing through it. He was becoming
confused again and he didn’t like it. It was what brought on the
darkness.

He stumbled to the steps,
desperate now for a little air. All he needed was a little time to
refocus and then he’d know exactly what to do.

Chapter
24

Duncan Sims was slouched
in his chair, looking like the kind of man accustomed to being in a
police station. He had a bored expression on his face and the
righteous attitude of someone with no doubt of their
innocence.

From the other side of
the glass, Brad balked at the fact he’d once fallen for the crap
Sims was selling. Under all his bravado, he was just a scared boy
who thought it cool to play the hero for a cause he didn’t even
understand. Brad wanted to go in there and slap the superiority out
of him. It was for that reason alone he’d agree to Potts’ terms.
Blaming Duncan wouldn’t help Alicia, and she was all that
mattered.

When he thought about
what Paul Meeks was doing to her it made him crazy. Every time he
pictured her alone and defenceless he found it difficult to
breathe. He was doing what he could to get through because she had
to be alive. There was no alternative worth thinking
about.

So, after some
discussion, he agreed to be ears only in the interview. Potts was
wearing an earpiece so he could at least contribute. So far, they
had nothing, or little that made sense.

He turned when he heard
the door, and Charlie Macavoy stepped into the room. “I don’t have
to ask how it’s going. You look like shit, my friend.”

Brad ran a hand through
his hair, trying to clamp down on his frustration. “It’s a waste of
time. He thinks he’s being honourable, even clever, but he’s just
idiot.”

“
He’s just a
pawn.” Charlie looked at the man behind the glass. “A child
really.”

“
I’d feel
sorry for him, if I wasn’t so pissed off. Think about it, Charlie.
Your best friend is laying in bed, a vegetable for the rest of his
life, and all you have as an explanation for how that happened is
his guilt-ridden father hell bent on revenge.”

Charlie shook his head.
“I don’t buy it. From what I know about the case, Paul Meeks has
been ill for a long time. I mean, call this obsession with Alicia
simple transference, call it a sick mind, hell, call it whatever
you want. But those men are responsible too. They knew about his
illness, they had to.”

“
I agree. I
do. I just can’t help thinking that in a certain environment people
can lose touch with reality. There are those who’ve blamed an
entire nation for a lot less. I’m not saying its right – it isn’t.”
His hand went back to the now familiar groove in his hair. “They
actually believe they did nothing wrong. That’s how Potts managed
to find them so quickly.”

Charlie reached out to
lay a hand on his shoulder. “I think your energies are better
served elsewhere.”

He smiled absently, the
subtle vibration in his pocket setting his heart beating – it had
to be news. The phone was in his hand a moment later. He stared
hopefully at Susannah’s image on the screen. “What have you got for
me?” He noticed Jones step into the room behind the glass, and
whisper something into his partner’s ear.

“
It looks like you won’t need the
tweedle
brothers
after all,” Charlie said, moving so he could see Susannah more
clearly.

Potts and Jones stepped
forward to the sound of her laughter. “We just got a hit on a
storage warehouse that Paul Meeks inherited last year. It’s still
in the partner’s name.” Susannah gave a satisfied smile. “Guess
where it is?”

“
Near the old
theatre?” Brad’s heart rate picked up again.

“
You got it,
sugar. It’s situated on Grimethorpe Lane, directly opposite the
site where Sommersville once stood.”

“
Suez, you
rock.” He would have kissed her if he could. Charlie looked like he
was thinking the same thing – though his thoughts weren’t quite so
pure.

“
Go get her,”
she said in response, disappearing from the screen a second
later.

Brad looked at Potts.
There wasn’t an ounce of compromise in his expression. “Let’s
go.”

“
Okay, but we
need to be clear. You can travel with us, only if you promise to
let us do our job. You can’t go rushing in without engaging your
brain.”

Brad’s lips twitched. “I
can promise to try. That’s all I’ve got.”

Charlie stepped between
them to save time. “I can tag along.”

Potts considered that a
moment. “Sure, why don’t we take the whole squad?”

Charlie rolled his eyes
to the ceiling. “Don’t worry; I’ll keep him in line.”

“
That should
be interesting,” Brad mumbled.

“
Be quiet and
concentrate on getting your girl.”

Brad knew Charlie was
being facetious, but it more or less summed up how he felt. She was
his, and he would get her back no matter what it took. If he saw an
opportunity, he would take it – rules or no rules.

When they pulled into an
abandoned car lot approximately two hundred yards from the
warehouses, his mind was already weighing the options.

They were an odd
structure; more like terraced houses than storage units. From what
he gleaned from Bobby on the way in, the buildings boasted three
floors and were allocated in a variety of ways – some owned one
level; others, like Paul Meeks, owned the block of three. It was a
highly pedestrianised area, not the ideal place for things to go
down.

The old theatre was long
gone. In its place stood a modern apartment building. It loomed
ahead of them, casting a shadow on the shops below. Brad already
knew that a garage sat to the right of the warehouses and several
takeaways to the left. He also knew Meeks hadn’t brought Alicia in
from the front – there was too much activity.

Scanning the street, he
spotted a narrow alleyway, just big enough for a car to pass
through. If he was right, it led to the rear of the properties. He
was damn well going to find out.

***

Alicia listened intently
for any sound that indicated Paul Meeks was still in the room. He
hadn’t moved for at least fifteen minutes, so he’d either fallen
asleep or left again. She opened her eyes, letting them adjust to
the shadows of her environment. They were in some kind of basement;
that was the only thing she could make out. A methodical banging
sound was coming from somewhere above them. The only other noise
came from a projector that he’d put on a repetitive loop,
presumably to confuse her. It was working.

Still, the voice on the
screen she couldn’t quite see, had kept her company as she laid
waiting for what came next.

She’d been awake for
almost an hour, but had managed to cover the fact by regulating her
breathing. At some point Paul had transferred her to a table. It
felt unstable beneath her, though that could have been the strange
weightless feel of her body. Because the suspense was adding to her
anxiety, she decided to test the water by turning her
head.

She knew he was there
before he stepped out of the shadows.

“
Welcome to
my prop house,” he said with a humourless smile.

Alicia felt a wave of
repulsion wash over her. She was looking at his true face for the
first time and it was worse than any mask.

He came to stand beside
her, with eyes as lifeless as the mannequins she’d noticed earlier.
“I’ve been waiting for this moment for a long time.”

She turned away from him,
only to come face to face with a younger version of the same man.
Finally, she could put a face to the voice on the projector. It was
his son.

Without the hatred to mar
his handsome face, John Meeks looked every bit the screen Idol he’d
once been.

“
I’m sorry
about your son,” she said, feeling the first prickle of
tears.