Taunting the Dead (37 page)

‘You can!’ Phil’s eyes pleaded with the dark and nasty soul of a Ryder. ‘Look, whatever I’ve done, I’m sorry. I’ll put it right.’

‘Like an eye for an eye?’ Terry punched him full on. His fist caught Phil’s nose. Blood flowed from it at an alarming rate.

‘Please, Tel. I –’ Phil spit out blood.

‘Or maybe a tooth for a tooth?’ Terry moved to a side bench, held up a retractable knife in his right hand and watched Phil recoil. He held up a lump hammer in his left hand. ‘Or maybe even a life for my WIFE?’

In one step, Terry stood in front of him again. Phil shouted out as the blade sliced his skin from the outside corner of his eye down to the bottom of his nose. Flesh and blood oozed out of its thickness.

‘I know everything, you bastard.’ To more screams of protest, Terry repeated the action on the other side of Phil’s face.

His breathing coming in panic-induced spurts, Phil closed his eyes for a moment, trying to escape the pain and the mad look in Terry’s eyes. To hell with it. He might as well put up a fight the only way he knew how.

‘You’re talking shit, man,’ he said, every word accentuating his pain. ‘You don’t know the half of it.’

Terry pulled his arm back as far as he could and with brute force, brought down the hammer on Phil’s right shin. Phil screamed this time. Terry left it a full minute before he smashed the hammer down on his left shin.

When Phil’s screams had lessened, Terry began to talk. ‘You are some stupid fuck, you know that?’ To maximise the pain, he grabbed Phil’s chin and squeezed it hard. ‘You’re a fucking loser. You and that layabout offspring of yours.’

Phil continued to spit out blood. Terry wiped his glove with distaste on the sleeve of Phil’s jacket. ‘You should never have thought you could get one over me. I gave you the job of doing Steph in because I knew you’d been fucking her. And what did you do? Give the job to someone else – someone who fucked up.’

‘You gave me the job because you couldn’t kill her yourself,’ Phil told him through gasps.

‘You think so?’ Terry’s laughter sounded menacing. ‘Hell, no, I wanted to watch her die. Kinda cool that your lad didn’t finish her off in the end, don’t you think?

He rested the tip of the knife in between Phil’s eyes. Then he drew it up his forehead.

‘And if fucking my wife wasn’t enough, you were stealing my money.’ He drew the blade across horizontally next. ‘Everyone takes from a player, it has to be recognised. And I wouldn’t have minded that. But to then take my money and use it to gain more money? And then to use threats to get it back? Twenty grand, wasn’t it? Well, that’s just not acceptable.’ The knife scored Phil’s forehead in the opposite direction.

Phil groaned through clenched teeth. The pain was unbearable, especially since he’d seen Terry do all this before. He was going to die, he was certain.

‘And then there’s this business around Sarah Maddison. How exactly did the knife that I finished her off with – the knife I told you to get rid of – end up in my house for the police to find?’

‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’ Phil was having trouble concentrating on anything through the pain. Then it dawned on him. It must have been Steph who had taken the knife from the outhouse. But how would she know it was there? Had Kenny told her? Or had it been Steve? Had his own brother set him up?

‘It was the baby that was the last straw,’ Terry said. ‘There was no way I was having your bastard child running around my house, reminding me of you.’

‘Baby?’ Phil managed to say.

‘Oh!’ Terry beamed. ‘You didn’t know Steph was pregnant? Well, that’s hardly surprising because she didn’t know either unless she guessed. She didn’t get the chance to find out her results. You see, I know this bird, Pamela Ruston. Works at the doctor’s surgery. She told me the happy news as soon as it came in.’

Phil could hardly see Terry through all the blood. Although determined to keep talking, he wasn’t going to let on about the knife. If he was going down, he was going to hurt Terry too, even if he did have to bend the truth a little.

‘You think Steph got one over on me?’ Blood bubbled between his lips as he spoke. ‘She didn’t. She screwed us both. She couldn’t stand you anymore. She put up with you because she wanted the big house, the lifestyle, the money. Steph was the smart one. She had to keep you sweet. And you fell for it. But me? I’d been fucking her for ages. And all that time, I knew. She didn’t love you. She loved me.’

Terry took a flick-knife from his pocket and plunged it into Phil’s heart, twisting it for one final act of revenge.

In that split second, Phil knew his time was up.

Terry pulled out the knife and stood back to admire his handiwork. ‘No, you’re wrong,’ he said, watching as Phil’s head lolled to the side and his eyes glazed over. ‘Steph only ever loved herself.’

Shane and Mitch were back fifteen minutes after Terry called them.

‘Never to be seen again, yeah?’ said Shane, handing Terry his keys.

Terry nodded.

‘Same with his car?’

‘Yeah. Take it as far away as possible.’

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

As Thursday turned into Friday, Allie lay in the dark shadows of the early morning trying not to wake Mark, who was asleep on the far side of the bed. She wished she could manage to drop off again. She’d flitted in and out of sleep for most of the night.

Mark’s words lay heavy on her heart. Apart from him moaning about the long hours she worked when a murder case came in, nothing had ever come between them in terms of work. The statistics were high for failed marriages for police personnel so she knew she was lucky to be part of something good, something so strong.

But then again, despite the issue of her sister, wasn’t the problem here caused by her and not Mark? Weren’t Mark’s insecurities down to her recent behaviour?

As she turned onto her back, a hand reached over and touched her thigh, gently resting on it as if it were an apparition.

‘I’m sorry,’ said Mark.

Usually this was the time that Allie would turn to him and say, ‘Yeah me too.’ But she didn’t speak.

A gentle tap of the hand on her thigh. ‘I didn’t mean to go off on one.’

‘Yes, you did.’

The hand was pulled away abruptly, followed by a sigh and a silence that spoke a thousand words. Then, ‘Your work consumes you at times, Allie. It’s what I love about you but it’s what I hate about you too.’

Allie pinched the bridge of her nose. ‘It’s six o’clock in the morning and you want to continue where you left things last night?’

Silence again.

‘I’m tired of this,’ he replied. ‘We’ve always been so good together.’

Allie pulled back the duvet and marched across the room. ‘That’s funny, because I thought we still were.’

‘Allie!’ Mark shouted after her.

She went to the bathroom to stew over his words. With the door firmly shut, and water rushing over her, she cried secret tears of frustration. What was wrong with her? Was she losing her mind? How on earth had her life changed so much in the space of a few days?

Minutes later, she heard a tap on the door as she dried herself. Mark pushed it open slightly. Standing there naked made Allie feel vulnerable. She wrapped the towel around her body, but as his gaze travelled lazily from her eyes to her chest, she felt a longing so deep that it scared her. God, she needed to feel loved by him.

‘Let’s not fight,’ she whispered, her hand reaching for the elastic waistband of his pyjama shorts. She drew him close, felt the frustration dropping as sexual tension built up. He pulled her into his arms, kissing her long and hard, hands tugging at the towel that then dropped to the floor.

Allie groaned as his hands moved over her. She needed to feel him inside her, needed to assert her oneness with him after allowing Terry to get so close. She arched her back as he kissed her neck.

See, this is where I belong, she thought as he lifted her up by her thighs and her ankles clasped together behind his back. Here, in the arms of my husband.

This is my rightful place to be.

Lee woke up when a lorry rumbled past in the distance. He switched on the interior light and checked the time. It was half past seven. The image of what was left of Shaun’s head swam before his eyes every time he closed them so he hadn’t had much sleep. Moving his neck from side to side, he stretched his back. Jeez, that was aching too. For a minute, he got out of the car to stretch his legs but it was too cold to stay outside. His stomach rumbled away. It was ages since he’d eaten. After lighting a cigarette he got back in, started the engine and kept it idling while he warmed up.

As the good people of Stoke-on-Trent awoke to another chilly day, Lee sat and contemplated his future. That is, if you could call it a future. Eighteen years old and already he’d killed two people. What else was going to go wrong?

He wondered if he would get away with his plan ‒ if indeed it was a plan and not a suicide mission. But he had to get money from somewhere. And two sources were better, even if one was pretty damn risky.

At eight, he tried Phil’s phone but his dad didn’t answer. He disconnected it, wondering if he’d got the hump with him now for not getting back to him the night before. But what could he do? He couldn’t chance anyone going near his house, not yet.

He waited another half hour before trying again but still no reply. Then he called Kirstie. It was time to talk smooth and put his plan into action.

‘Lee! Where have you been? I tried your phone forever last night. I was over at Ashleigh’s. I could have come to see you.’

‘Sorry, babe.’ Lee put on his best soothing voice. ‘I didn’t feel too good so I went to bed early. Didn’t realise my phone was off.’

‘But if you were ill I could have come round to look after you. I could have given you some T.L.C.’

‘Actually, I wondered if you fancied catching up this morning. Can you get away?’

Lee heard her catch her breath. ‘I can’t.’ She sounded disappointed.

‘Why not?’

‘I need to be close during the day, in case the police find out anything about Mum. It’s easier at night to slip out and pretend to be at Ashleigh’s. That’s why I was after you.’

‘Can’t you pretend that you have to hand some work in at college? I can meet you somewhere and we can come back to mine. No one will be any the wiser.’

‘I’m not sure.’

‘I’m dying to see you, Kirst,’ he lied. ‘I can meet you at the Festival Park in half an hour. We can leave your car there and it’ll look like you’ve been in Boots for something, headache tablets or the likes, if you do get caught. Better to get a bollocking for that. What do you say?’

A pause.

‘Okay, just for a bit, then.’

Lee sighed with relief. Part one of his plan had worked. Leaving Kirstie’s car at the Festival Park would mean that when Ryder started looking for her, he wouldn’t find it anywhere near his house.

Allie had been at her desk since seven a.m., running through her team’s findings from the day before. All around her, people had started to drift in. Trying to put her personal life in a box until her shift was over, she concentrated on her work. The missing persons call Carole Morrison had made regarding Shaun landed on her desk an hour later as a hunch from a young police constable who recognised the name. After the morning’s briefing, she headed over to The Orange Grove.

‘I didn’t think anything of it at first,’ Carole said, indicating for Allie to sit down at a table downstairs. ‘We’d been arguing since he’d found out about… me and Terry.’

‘What time did you last see him?’ Allie opened her notepad.

‘He left here shortly after you yesterday. We had a sixtieth birthday party booked in for four o’clock, with eighteen guests to attend to. I’d been preparing for it for most of the day – can’t stop working even when I look like this.’ She pointed at the bruising now prominent on her face. ‘So I got on with it. But after the first few guests arrived, I knew we’d be understaffed without him. I rang him but his phone was switched off. I had to greet the guests telling some story that I’d tripped up the steps in the kitchen.’

‘What time was that?’

‘Half five, sixish, I guess.’

‘Did you try his mobile again?’

Carole nodded. ‘Every ten minutes or so but it was still switched off. By the time they’d all gone around nine, there was still no sign of him. I called the station at eleven. Some bloke told me to ring again if he was still missing this morning. Well, he is and I haven’t slept a wink all night.’

‘It does seem strange,’ Allie started, ‘after everything that’s gone on recently.’

‘You don’t think he’s in trouble, do you?’ Carole’s hand rose to her chest.

‘Probably not – Shaun seems like a nice guy. But sometimes people have secrets and –’

‘We don’t have secrets,’ said Carole sharply. ‘There’s nothing wrong with our marriage.’

Allie decided not to comment on the obvious. ‘Has anyone been to see him lately? Someone who wouldn’t see him usually? Or Terry. Has Terry Ryder been about?’

Carole scowled at the mention of his name. ‘I haven’t seen him since he attacked me. But I do know that Shaun said he was going to see him.’

‘Shaun was going to see Terry?’

‘Yes, that’s what he said.’ Carole paused. ‘But Terry wouldn’t have done anything to him.’

‘Yes, I agree,’ Allie soothed. Terry Ryder wouldn’t do anything to get himself into trouble, not when things were too close to home. ‘Anyone else?’

‘That Kennedy has been snooping around.’

Allie raised her eyebrows. ‘Phil Kennedy?’

Carole nodded. ‘And his son.’

‘They came together?’

‘No, at different times. I thought something funny was going on but Shaun told me not to worry.’ Carole glanced up at Allie. ‘You’re right. Things did start to happen but it was before Steph was murdered. Phil Kennedy called to see Shaun the day before she died. We owed him money and a couple of days later, Shaun told me that everything had been sorted. That the debt had been wiped out.’

Allie sat forward. ‘Didn’t you find that a little odd?’

‘Definitely. Even I’m not stupid enough to believe that. But Shaun was insistent. Then we had an intruder in the kitchen that Shaun saw off – he didn’t want me to report it. Maybe that was one of them but we do have trouble with squatters. I did ask Shaun what Phil wanted but he didn’t say. But I clearly heard him say he needed him to take care of something for him.’