The Evil And The Pure (39 page)

He went looking for Gawl McCaskey. Tracked down Eyes Burton in a bookies in Balham and asked about
the Scot. Eyes didn’t know where McCaskey lived but thought it was around the Elephant & Castle. They’d worked on a job together in Australia many years before. Eyes didn’t like McCaskey but said he had his crude uses and knew how to keep his mouth shut.

Big Sandy hit a few pubs around the Elephant. Several
people knew McCaskey but nobody knew where he lived. The landlord in the King’s Head, Paul, thought McCaskey was squatting in a flat on the Heygate but didn’t know in which block. Said Big Sandy should come back later, Gawl was a regular, and even if he didn’t turn up tonight, there’d be lots in the pub who knew him and might have a clearer idea of where he kipped. But Big Sandy not overly concerned, sure he’d catch up with McCaskey eventually, if not this week then later. Not a priority.

To the Borough next to check on Tulip. She was slow to answer the door. He thought she was out and was turning to leave when the door finally opened and she stood blinking at him. “Hey,” he smiled. “Just wanted to see if you were OK.”

“I’m fine.” Tulip retreated. Big Sandy followed. In the light of the living room he caught a clearer look at her face. She’d been crying.

“Are you sure you’re all right
?”

“Yes.”

“Kevin at work?”

“Yes.”

Big Sandy sat, feeling awkward. He never knew what to do when a woman was crying, especially one as young as Tulip. If Megan had let him be a father to Amelie, he might have had more of an idea of what to say, but teenage girls were from a different universe as far as he was concerned. “I haven’t caught up with McCaskey yet,” he grunted, bringing talk round to ground that felt solid, “but I’ve been running some checks. I’ll find him soon.”

“He came
here last night,” Tulip said softly.

Big Sandy stiffened. “Why didn’t you call
me?”

“He turned up unannounced. There was nothing we could do.
I don’t know how he found out where we live. Maybe Clint told him or maybe he followed us on Saturday or Sunday.”

“Did he hurt you?”

“No. Just sex this time. But he’s a bad man. When I look in his eyes…” She hesitated, then came out with it, voice hushed, fearful. “I see the devil.” Big Sandy didn’t laugh. Tulip looked up, fresh tears trickling down her cheeks. “I’ve seen a lot of wicked men since Kevin started…” Couldn’t say it. “Gawl’s different. Not just cruel, but really evil. I’m afraid of what he might do.”

Big Sandy wanted to hug her but felt that would be overstepping the mark, worried she might think he was coming on to her.
“Have you discussed this with Kevin?” he asked instead.

“
He’s as scared as I am. Last night…” She hesitated, then figured he knew so much already about them that there was no point holding back. “Gawl hit Kevin. Wouldn’t allow him in while he had sex with me. It’s the first time Kevin hasn’t been present.”

“Was it better or worse without him?” Big Sandy asked curiously.

“No difference. I never feel anything when it’s happening. I blank out as much as I can. That’s why I take the drugs.”

Big Sandy
bristled, wanting to protect Tulip, thinking about Amelie, imagining traces of his daughter in this scared, trapped girl. “I can move in for a few nights, be here if McCaskey comes again, stop this before it goes any further.”

“He said he’d call
ahead next time.”

“You believe him?”

“Yes. Kevin wasn’t terrified of him before. Now he is. Kevin doesn’t run when he’s afraid — he freezes. Gawl has Kevin under his thumb. Phoning before he comes will scare Kevin worse than just dropping in, so he’ll phone.”

“You seem to know a lot about him.”

“It’s all in his eyes.”

Big Sandy nodded thoughtfully. “I’ll speak
with Kevin, tell him to call me the next time McCaskey’s coming.”

“You think you can stop him?”

“Yes.” He gazed at her evenly. “But from what you’ve told me, I don’t think a warning will suffice. I might have to go further.”

Tulip held Big Sandy’s gaze. Said nothing. Acknowledgment
in her eyes, and a silent plea,
Do whatever you have to.

“
Will Kevin be in tonight?” Big Sandy asked.

“Not for long. He’s working late and we’ve an appointment at ten.”

“I thought he said no more appointments until you’d recovered.”

Tulip shrugged. “Kevin says lo
ts of things. He phoned earlier. Clint has asked us to come to the lab. Kevin’s eager to do it. I think he wants to prove to himself that he’s still in control of the situation, even though he knows that he isn’t.”

Big Sandy wanted to
tell Kevin to break the appointment, stay in and wait for McCaskey to call. But reluctant to interfere with Phials’ schedule. It was good that Phials was enjoying his few pleasures before the day of reckoning — they might remind him what he stood to lose if he refused to cooperate with the Bush.

“I’ll come round tomorrow,” Big Sandy said
, not wanting to abandon Tulip even with everything else that was going on, still thinking of Amelie and how horrible it would be if she was left friendless and hopeless in her darkest hour. “We’ll sort this out. Tell Kevin to phone me if McCaskey calls in the meantime.”

“I will.” Tulip smiled, relieved. “I was going to fix lunch for myself
— Kevin has to work through his break. Do you want some?”

Big Sandy started to say
no then smiled and changed his mind. “Sure.” Together they devoured a baguette filled with ham, lettuce, tomato, washed down with Pepsi Max. They didn’t say much while they ate. Big Sandy asked if she wanted him to hang around when they were finished. She said it was OK, she could manage. He left, stooping low to clumsily kiss her cheek, and whispered, “Don’t worry, it will all work out in the end.”

“Of course,” Tulip whispered back.
“God takes care of all things in the end.”

Strolling down Long
Lane, disturbed by Tulip’s tale of Gawl McCaskey, sorry he hadn’t tried harder to track down the bastard, making up his mind to scour the Elephant & Castle for him tonight until he found out where McCaskey lived. Mulling over Tulip’s last words.
God takes care of all things in the end.
Determined not to leave her fate in God’s hands. Big Sandy didn’t trust him.

Clint couldn’t sleep. Spent most of the night twisting beneath his bed sheets, sweating, thinking of all the things that could go wrong. Nightmares when he did drop off, jerking awake, heart beating fast in the darkness. He grabbed his phone several times to ring Gawl and call it off. Then he’d think about the money and
set the phone back down. Torn between terror and greed.

He got up early, not long after seven, figuring it would be better to keep busy, maybe he wouldn’t think about the break-out so much. But nothing could distract him. His hands were shaking. He vomited twice.
It was useless. He couldn’t go through with this. Picked up his phone, determined to ring Gawl this time. Gawl wouldn’t like it, but Clint wouldn’t let that stop him. He had to be firm. This was lunacy. Mad to think they could get away with it. To hell with the money. Not worth the risk. Nothing was worth…

He paused as a face flashed through his thoughts. Gulped. Made a snap decision and dialled the number before he could chicken out. Alice confused when she answered, not sure who he was until he reminded her. He could tell she was uncertain when he asked if he could visit, but he was her husband’s cousin, so in the end she gave him permission, not wanting to offend family, even a distant and unloved relative like Clint.

He washed, showered, dressed in his finest clothes, then took them off and tried something less formal. Called for a taxi, not wanting to rely on public transport, concerned that the grime of the Tube might rub off on him.

Alice opened the door when he
buzzed, let him in, kissed him on the cheek, took him through to the living room. Clint had only been here once before, back when he had first made contact with cousin Dave. He felt out of place but tried not to let it show. Said he’d love a cup of tea when Alice offered. Made small talk, struggling to think of things to say, stuttering quite badly. It took him an age, but finally he worked up to what he’d come here for and asked about Shula. He knew she had returned to them when she’d been released from hospital. Was she going to stay or return to Switzerland?

“She’s going home,” Alice sighed. “
Later this week actually. She doesn’t want to be in London any more. She quit her night classes. A pity, because I knew she enjoyed them. Maybe one day she’ll…” Alice paused, realising that this was why Clint had come. He’d never struck her as an especially impressive young man. Shy and stumbling. And Dave spoke dismissively of him. But it would be rude to turn him away, and Shula had entertained so few visitors, not having made any real friends during her short stay in the city.

“
Wait here,” Alice said, getting up. “I’ll see if Shula is in. She might want to chat with you.”

Clint sipped his tea and stared at his feet while he was waiting. Almost bolted, but didn’t want to look like even more of a fool. When he heard the door open, he was sure it was Alice come to tell him that Shula didn’t want to see him. But when he looked up, cousin Dave’s wife was nowhere to be seen. It was Shula Schimmel who had entered. And she was smiling at
him. Quizzically, sure, but it was still a smile, and Clint filled with warmth and hope.

“Clint. Hi,” she said, crossing the room to sit close to him. “Long time no see.”

“Yeah,” Clint beamed then gulped. “I’ve muh-missed you.”

She patted one of his hands and said politely, “I’ve missed you too.”

Growing strong on that, he asked how she was, if she’d been out on the town recently, if she had any plans for what she was going to do when she returned to Switzerland. Growing less nervous as he went along, Shula answering pleasantly, not looking bored, laughing at one or two of his small jokes. They didn’t talk about the rape. He wasn’t dumb enough to bring that up.

“How about you?” Shula asked. “Have you been busy?”

“You know,” Clint grinned. “Ducking and diving, wheeling and dealing.” He cleared his throat. “Actually, things are going pretty wuh-well. I have a few deals lined up that might set me up nuh-nicely if they pan out the way I hope.”

“I’ll keep my fingers crossed for you,” Shula said.

Clint licked his lips. “Yeah, I could be sitting swuh-sweet soon. Might muh-move to the States. It’s always been a dream of mine.”

“Yes,” Shula nodded. “You mentioned that before.”

Clint delighted that she remembered. It gave him the courage to go on. “I was thinking. If I fuh-find myself in Switzerland one day, would you muh-mind if I guh-guh-guh-gave you a call?”

“What would bring you to Switzerland?” Shula asked.

Clint wanted to say,
You
. But frightened of blowing it. “Oh, I don’t know,” he said softly. “I’ve always muh-meant to visit. It sounds lovely. It’d be nice to meet up with you if I’m there. I wuh-wouldn’t take up much of your tuh-time.”

“Don’t be silly,” Shula laughed. “I’d love to show you around. Give me plenty of warning before you come, so that I can clear my diary.” She leant across to squeeze his hand. “And I’m not just saying that. I mean it.”

Clint stared at his hand where she’d touched him. Then stared at her as she smiled at him earnestly. And he knew in that moment that he would find the courage to press on tonight. He wouldn’t let fear turn him from his path. He would stand beside Gawl and do what was expected of him, no matter what. Not just for the money. For Shula and all the delights that he could read into her smile.

The warmth seeped from Clint’s bones over the course of the day, especially when he went to visit Phials to tell him the plan and it began to get real. But he didn’t truly start to waver until evening, when he got sick again and found himself shaking worse than ever. But by that time Gawl was there to talk him through his doubts, remind him of the prize, encourage him, stoke Clint’s dreams. He probably would have bolted on the way to the lab without Gawl, despite what he had vowed earlier, caught a bus or taxi the hell out of there. But Gawl knew this and made the journey to the Walworth Road with him, driving there in a car he’d stolen earlier, parking in the street at the top of the cul-de-sac. He got out and waved Clint on. By then Clint had come too far to back down, so he staggered ahead, legs shaking, eyelids twitching, trying to focus on the money, Shula, America, anything except what was dead ahead of him.

Deep breaths at the outer door, fingers fumbling with the lock, five attempts to get the code right. Winced at the sound as the door slid open. Stepped forward into darkness, fighting back tears. More deep breaths. Slapped his face lightly to get some colour in his cheeks. Popped a strong mint, hoping the scent would mask the stench of fear. Pressed the button.