The Stretch (Stephen Leather Thrillers) (36 page)

Sam tried to examine the cut on his head but Terry shook her away.

‘What happened?’ she asked.

‘I knocked my head getting into the car.’

‘You need something on it.’ She opened a kitchen cupboard and took out a bottle of TCP and a pack of cotton buds. She dabbed some antiseptic on his wounds.

Terry winced. ‘For God’s sake, Sam. I’m not a kid.’

‘Yeah, and you’re a bit too old to be fighting, aren’t you?’

‘I told you,’ said Terry. ‘It was an accident.’

‘Yeah, you tell me a lot of things.’

Terry twisted around to look at her. ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ he asked.

Sam pushed him back and carried on dabbing TCP on the cuts. ‘Keep still.’

‘My wife, the nurse,’ complained Terry.

‘Where were you tonight?’

‘The club. Taking care of business.’

Sam finished treating his cuts and put the antiseptic and cotton buds away. ‘Jonathon’s left Laura,’ she said, pouring hot milk into her mug and stirring in spoonfuls of chocolate powder.

‘Good riddance,’ said Terry.

‘More than that,’ said Sam. ‘He’s left the country. He called her from Toronto. Canada.’

‘Yeah, I know where Toronto is.’

Sam sat down at the table opposite Terry. ‘Did you do something to him?’

Terry raised his eyebrows. ‘Like what?’

‘You know what like. Did you hurt him?’

Terry said nothing.

‘Answer me, Terry.’

‘What do you want me to say?’

‘I want the truth,’ said Sam. ‘Did you do something to Jonathon?’

Terry held her look and put down his lager. ‘I had a word with him,’ he said. ‘That’s all.’

Sam looked into Terry’s cold blue eyes, trying to tell if he was lying. He looked back without blinking.

‘What did you say to him?’

‘I told him that if he ever laid a finger on Laura again, he’d have me to answer to. I think he got the message.’ He drank from the bottle of lager and wiped his mouth. ‘He won’t be bothering her any more.’

Sam sipped her hot chocolate. ‘Laura said he sounded scared. He said that she should divorce him, that she could have the house and everything.’

‘Small price to pay for what he did to her.’

‘Yeah, but why did he leave the country? Was that your doing, Terry?’

‘Don’t be stupid. Anyway, she’s better off without him.’

‘The truth, Terry. Did you hurt him?’

Terry shook his head. ‘No, love. I talked to him, that’s all. God’s honest.’

Sam stood up. ‘I’m going to bed.’ She washed her mug in the sink.

‘I’ll be up in a minute,’ said Terry.

‘Whatever,’ said Sam.

Terry watched her go, then he went to the fridge for another lager.

∗      ∗      ∗

 

Fletcher and Pike were waiting with the BMW when Terry left the house next morning. They both looked shamefaced as Terry shut the front door behind him. ‘Thanks for your help last night, guys.’

‘Sorry, Terry,’ said Fletcher.

‘Yeah, they snuck up on us, boss.’

‘Yeah, and they were tooled up.’

‘Did they get heavy with you?’ asked Pike.

Terry got into the back of the BMW. ‘I think it best we draw a veil over events, lads. In case I get all emotional.’ His mobile phone rang and he answered it.

Pike and Fletcher got into the car as Terry grunted into the phone and cut the connection.

‘Change of plans, lads,’ said Terry. ‘We’re going to Bristol.’

Terry sat in silence during the drive west. Pike and Fletcher kept exchanging looks, wondering if they should start up a conversation, but it was clear that Terry didn’t want to talk. At one point Pike reached over to switch on the radio, but Fletcher shook his head.

When they arrived outside Alicia’s house, Terry told the two men to stay in the car. He went up to the front door and rang the bell.

Alicia opened the door wearing a tight dress that was cut low at the top and barely covered her backside. ‘Terry!’ she squealed.

‘Don’t act so surprised. You called me,’ he said. ‘Are you going to open the door, or what?’

As soon as Terry was in the hall, she plastered herself against him and kissed him full on the lips. The baby started crying in the sitting room and Terry pulled away from Alicia.

‘The baby,’ he said.

‘She’s been crying all day,’ said Alicia. ‘She’ll be okay.’ She dropped down on her knees and unbuttoned his trousers.

‘Alicia . . .’ said Terry. ‘Come on, stop that.’ He gasped as she took him into her mouth, her eyes on his as she moved her head back and forth. ‘You bitch,’ he whispered as he stroked her hair.

She took away her mouth and smiled up at him. ‘Your bitch,’ she said. ‘I’m your bitch, remember.’ Terry pulled her up, kissed her, and unzipped her dress. She wasn’t wearing underwear and she smiled when she saw the look of surprise on his face. ‘I was waiting for you,’ she said. She took his hand and pressed against it herself. ‘Feel how wet I am,’ she whispered.

Terry pushed her against the wall and she drew her legs up around him as he entered her, so hard that she gasped. ‘Yes,’ she whispered into his ear. ‘Yes, Terry, come on, love. Come on.’

Terry thrust into her, harder and harder as she called out his name.

‘Upstairs,’ she moaned. ‘Take me upstairs.’

Terry picked her up and carried her upstairs and made love to her on her double bed.

Afterwards, he lay with an arm around her, staring up at the ceiling. The baby was still crying downstairs.

‘Why’ve you been staying away, Terry?’

‘Alicia . . .’ groaned Terry. The last thing he wanted was an argument.

‘Too much pressure?’

‘It’s not that. I told you. If the filth see me with you . . .’

‘I know, I know. But it’s been months.’

‘Leave it out, Alicia.’

Alicia ran her hand down his chest to his groin, then down to his thighs. Terry smiled and kissed her as she stroked him.

‘Your wife was here,’ she said.

Terry froze. ‘What?’

‘Your wife. That’s why I wanted to see you. She came here.’

Terry sat up abruptly. ‘Why the hell didn’t you tell me?’

‘What do you think I’m doing?’

‘Why didn’t you tell me on the phone?’

‘Because if I did, you wouldn’t have come. Would you?’

Terry got out of bed and started dressing.

‘See!’

‘What do you mean, “see”?’ said Terry, buttoning his shirt.

‘You still love her, don’t you?’

‘Don’t be stupid. What did she want?’

‘Why do you care what she wanted?’ Terry glared at her, and she shook her head in frustration.

‘I don’t know what she wanted,’ said Alicia. ‘She wasn’t here more than a minute. She forced her way in, saw Rosie, stared at me like she wanted me dead, then walked out.’

‘She saw the kid?’

‘That’s what I said.’

Terry swore under his breath. ‘Did she drive here?’

‘Someone drove her. A guy in a big car.’

Terry swore again. McKinley. It had to have been McKinley. He finished buttoning his shirt and headed for the stairs.

Alicia grabbed her robe and hurried after him. ‘Terry . . . she doesn’t matter. You can stay here . . . with us.’

Terry found his shoes in the living room and slipped them on. Alicia tried to put her arms around him but he pushed her away. ‘You know that’s not going to happen,’ he said.

She smiled at him seductively. ‘I’ll be good for you . . . you know how good I can make it for you.’

‘Leave it out, Alicia.’

Alicia tried to kiss him, but he turned his back on her and put on his jacket. She slapped him on the back. ‘You bastard!’ She slapped him again and again but Terry barely felt the blows.

‘Grow up,’ he sneered as he headed for the front door.

‘You killed Preston for me!’ she shouted. ‘You shot him so you could have me.’

Terry whirled around, his eyes blazing. ‘I killed him because he pulled a fucking gun on me.’ he hissed. ‘Because he would’ve killed me.’

‘You say.’

‘Yeah, I say. He asked for it.’

‘He was my husband,’ said Alicia, her voice trembling.

‘Ex-husband,’ said Terry. ‘And your marital status didn’t stop you shaking your tits at me.’

‘Neither did yours,’ said Alicia. Terry stood staring at her, breathing heavily. Alicia smiled and rubbed herself against him. ‘You want me, you know you do.’ Terry shook his head, but Alicia reached between his legs and stroked him.

Terry pushed her away and opened the door.

‘It’s me you want! You can’t go back to her!’ Alicia screamed as he slammed the door behind him. ‘You can’t!’ she shouted as she kicked the door.

∗      ∗      ∗

 

Sam took Laura’s arm as they walked out of the hospital. ‘Don’t fuss, Mum,’ said Laura. ‘I’m fine.’ She was wearing dark glasses and a scarf around her head to cover the fading bruises and still-healing cuts.

‘I know you’re fine, I just want to hold my daughter,’ said Sam. ‘Nothing wrong with that, is there?’

They walked together towards the Lexus. McKinley stepped forward and took Laura’s bag from Sam. He put it into the boot as the two women got into the back of the car.

‘What’s he going to do in Canada, Mum?’ asked Laura.

‘I don’t know, love.’

‘He’s a merchant banker, there’s nothing for him to do in Canada.’

‘Didn’t he say when he phoned?’

‘He just said he wanted a divorce and that I could have the house and everything. He was only on for a minute. He sounded scared stiff, like someone had a gun to his head. It’s Dad, isn’t it? Dad’s run him out of town.’

McKinley got into the driving seat.

‘Your dad says no,’ said Sam.

‘Well, he would, wouldn’t he?’

McKinley’s mobile phone rang and he answered it.

‘How is Dad?’ Laura asked Sam.

Sam sighed. ‘I’m not sure,’ she said.

‘Is he back for good?’

Sam pulled a face. ‘I wish I knew, love.’

McKinley put his mobile phone away. He looked worried.

‘Everything okay, Andy?’ asked Sam.

‘Mr Greene wants to see me later,’ said McKinley. He started the car.

‘Seatbelt, Andy,’ reminded Sam.

∗      ∗      ∗

 

It was dark when McKinley arrived at the football stadium. As he walked out on to the pitch, the floodlights came on and McKinley shaded his eyes against the searing light. Terry was standing at the penalty spot in front of one of the goals, a bulging sack at his feet.

‘What’s this about, Terry?’ called McKinley.

‘Just fancied a kickabout,’ said Terry. He nodded at the goalmouth. ‘Get in goal, will you?’

McKinley walked slowly to the goal. Terry picked up the sack and emptied out a dozen footballs. He was wearing a knee-length leather jacket over his suit, and his Bally shoes gleamed under the floodlights. McKinley wasn’t dressed for football either, in a woollen coat over his jacket and cord trousers.

Terry took a short run-up and pounded a ball into the back of the net. He stood looking at McKinley with his hands on his hips. ‘You’re not trying, Andy,’ he called.

McKinley adjusted the fingers of his black leather gloves one by one. ‘What’s going on, Terry?’ he asked.

Pike and Fletcher appeared from the shadows behind the goal. They stood on the edge of the pitch, their faces stone hard. McKinley looked over his shoulder at them, then back at Terry.

Terry kicked another ball and it whistled past McKinley into the back of the net. ‘Make an effort, hey!’

‘And if I don’t want to play?’ asked McKinley.

‘Then it’ll stop being a game,’ said Terry. He trapped a ball and dribbled it around in a circle, flipped it up on to his chest and then dropped it back at his feet. ‘I had a trial for West Ham when I was a kid, did I tell you that?’ He knocked the ball up into the air and juggled it on his knees, then dropped it at his feet again. ‘Nothing came of it, but there was a time when I was in with a chance. That’s what life’s all about, innit? Chances. Chances and opportunities. Some you grab, some you miss.’

Terry kicked the ball, hard, towards the top right-hand corner of the net. McKinley shuffled to the side and stuck out his hand, deflecting the ball over the crossbar. Terry grinned. ‘Better . . .’ he said.

He dribbled a ball to the penalty spot and took a few steps back. ‘I’m going to give you one last chance, McKinley. If I were you, I’d grab it with both hands.’ He smiled without warmth, then pretended to kick the ball. McKinley moved, then straightened up as he realised that Terry was faking him out. ‘Why didn’t you tell me about my wife going to Bristol?’ said Terry, taking a step back.

McKinley didn’t reply. Terry dashed forward and kicked the ball, hard. It curved through the air and slammed into McKinley’s chest, knocking the wind from him. He stood panting as Terry got another ball ready.

‘Well?’ asked Terry.

‘I didn’t want to . . .’ McKinley left the sentence hanging.

‘What? You didn’t want to what?’

‘I didn’t want to get her into trouble.’

Terry looked over at Pike and Fletcher. ‘Is it me or is the whole fucking world going crazy?’ he shouted. Pike and Fletcher shrugged. Terry pointed at McKinley. ‘Remind me again, McKinley. Who pays your wages?’

‘You do.’

‘So you do work for me, right?’

McKinley nodded.

‘Because if there’s some misunderstanding on that point, might be best to clear it up here and now.’

Terry kicked another ball. McKinley took a swift step to the side and caught it, snatching it from the air in his gloved hands and clutching it to his chest. Terry nodded, impressed.

‘So what the hell are you doing running my wife down to the West Country to talk to the ex-wife of the guy I was accused of killing? Didn’t that seem a bit on the disloyal side?’