Betrayed (28 page)

‘Where is she now?’ Javier asked.

‘I suppose she’ll be back in the hotel or shopping. She bought a phone charger and she has just sent me a text saying McGregor is organising to meet Flinty Jackson. She overheard him saying the name on the phone.’

‘Maybe the drugs pickup. We need to be there.’

‘She thinks it might be late afternoon sometime.’

‘Good. Juan wants to talk to her about keeping us informed of McGregor’s movements. But she’s already doing it. So that’s good.’

‘Yeah. As long as she holds her nerve.’

‘Why don’t you call her and ask her to come up to the cafe where you are?’

‘Yeah. I will. But I have to wait to see what’s going to happen with Jimmy in the apartment. I’m hoping to see him and talk.’

‘Okay. We will come up anyway – just in case.’

‘He’s not going to do anything on his own.’

‘You never know.’

He hung up.

Jimmy sat on the sofa in the apartment, not quite believing what he was hearing. When he’d gone into the flat, Liz was sitting at a table by the window. She stood up when he saw her and for a fleeting moment he felt a sense of betrayal. But she was ready for him. She put her hands up. She was sorry, she told him. But her loyalty was first and foremost to
Wendy. He’d just have to understand that. When he raised his voice, insisting that she should have told him, Liz stood her ground.

‘Save your rage for big Eddie,’ she’d said. ‘Save it, Jimmy, for what he did to Wendy.’

Jimmy had swallowed his anger and sat down. She was right. He looked at Wendy, the dark smudges under her eyes and the hollow of her cheeks. She’d lost weight. He had felt it straight away when he took her in his arms earlier. Wendy had done nothing and Eddie had raped her. He felt physically sick as he listened to her telling him how it happened. He pictured every sordid second of it, imagined Eddie’s hands all over her, getting on top of her, pulling at her jeans. Bastard. He felt ashamed that since she disappeared, it had crossed his mind that maybe she had given big Eddie even the slightest scrap of encouragement. But deep down he knew she wouldn’t do that. Eddie raped her. It was as black and white as that. The rage coursing through him pulsed all the way to his temples and he felt a sudden dull headache. He pressed his fingers to the side of his head, as Wendy went through her account of the night it happened. When she had finished talking they sat for what seemed like a while, and finally it was Liz who broke the silence.

‘I’ve talked to a newspaper reporter, Jimmy. From the
Post
. We both have,’ Liz said, lighting a cigarette.

‘What?’

‘A reporter. From the
Post
.’ Liz looked at Wendy. ‘Her
name’s Rosie Gilmour. Me and Wendy. We both talked to her.’ She folded her arms.

Jimmy looked from one to the other in disbelief. ‘You’re fucking joking. A reporter? What for? What’s the point?’

They both looked at him in silence.

Jimmy’s brows knitted in confusion.

‘But why? I mean what’s the point? What can a newspaper reporter do?’

Silence.

‘They can get him done,’ Wendy said, looking at the floor.

Jimmy’s mind was a blur, trying to work out what they meant. Unless Wendy was prepared to put herself on the line with the police and get Eddie charged, stand in a witness box and accuse him of rape, there was nothing they could do. If she wanted to do that, fine. He’d back her. He’d have to, he loved her that much. But he’d be finished with the UVF. His stomach felt as though someone had grabbed it and twisted it around. What would his father do if he was seen to be backing Wendy against the UVF? Judging by the way he’d been talking these past few days, perhaps he might agree with him. But when it came to the crunch, he didn’t know what would happen. And how could he really put his da through that in what might be the last few months of his life? Christ! He looked at Wendy and squeezed her hand.

‘Wendy. If you’re prepared to go to the police and get Eddie charged with rape, it means I’m finished with the UVF if I back you.’

Wendy’s head dropped to her chest and she said nothing. Jimmy lifted her chin gently and looked into her eyes brimming with tears.

‘I’ll be behind you, Wendy, whatever you decide. I’m with you if you want to go to the cops and get him charged,’ he said.

‘Oh, Jimmy!’ Wendy threw her arms around him and they held each other, as he stroked her hair part of him still barely believing she was in his arms.

‘That’s not the only thing we talked to the reporter about.’ Liz spoke.

‘What?’ Jimmy pulled away from Wendy and turned towards Liz.

‘The reporter is working on an investigation into Eddie and the UVF smuggling drugs into Scotland on the Rangers supporters’ buses.’

Jimmy screwed up his eyes, trying to take it in. His face reddened.

‘What? You’ve talked to a reporter about that? But you don’t know anything about it.’

‘I do. Billy told me all about it when I was going out with him. Told me loads of stuff.’

‘Billy’s a fucking dick,’ Jimmy said, suddenly irritated. ‘Liz, whatever Billy said to you, he’s an eejit for doing it in the first place, but you shouldn’t have told anybody – far less a fucking reporter. Have you any idea what could happen to you?’

‘I know,’ Liz said, her face like flint.

‘So,’ he turned to Wendy. ‘You’ve talked to this reporter too?’

Wendy nodded.

‘Aw, fuck’s sake!’ Jimmy jumped to his feet, raising his voice. ‘Listen. Fuck! If Eddie ends up in the shite over drugs on the buses, I’ll be in it too. Christ! That’s what me and Mitch are doing with him on this trip. He ordered us to come with him.’ He paced the floor, his hands behind his head. ‘This is fucking serious.’ He turned to Liz. ‘Who have you spoken to, Liz? How far down the road is this? Are cops involved?’

Liz nodded slowly. ‘Yeah, they are.’

‘Aw, for fuck’s sake! I’ll get done as well. Can you not see that?’ He shook his head, waved his arms. ‘I don’t fucking believe this.’

‘Not if you work with the reporter, Jimmy,’ Wendy said. ‘And the police.’

‘What?’ Jimmy looked down at her, incredulous. ‘You mean grass Eddie up? You mean grass up the UVF?’ He threw his hands up. ‘Fuck me! I’d be as well getting a gun and shooting myself right now.’

‘Jimmy, listen.’ Wendy stood up. ‘You need to think about this. Please. Just calm down and listen. We can be together.’

Jimmy interrupted. ‘How can we be together? How? I’ll be in the fucking jail, or dead!’ He heard his voice go up an octave with exasperation.

‘You cooperate with the police. We can get new identities and go away somewhere. The police will look after us.’

‘Jesus wept! You’ve been watching too many movies.’ He glared at Liz. ‘It just doesn’t happen like that. The UVF will track people down ten, twenty years after the event. We could be sitting in our house in Florida in twenty years and someone comes up and shoots you through the window. Christ, Wendy. That’s what happens. You don’t grass up. Ever!’ He put his hand on his forehead and tried to squeeze away the thumping tension headache.

‘So what do you do then, Jimmy?’ Wendy’s voice shook with emotion as she stood up and faced him. ‘Is the UVF your whole life for the rest of your life? Is that what you want? Maybe in a few years you’ll be a big man like Eddie and you’ll be in charge of other young guys just like you, but that will be it. Aye. And maybe you’ll find yourself one of these lassies that hang around with these boys all impressed, and that will be your whole life. Killing and beatings and drugs! That’ll be it.’ She paused, her voice breaking. ‘But I’ll not be in it. I’ll be long gone. Because I can’t do this. I don’t want my life to be like that. I want kids … a proper home.’

Jimmy stood in silence, the enormity of what she was saying beating him around the head, and all the time, his father’s words from the other night, when he told him that his mother kept coaxing them to go away, put the UVF behind them and start a new life. Now he was just an old,
dying man, full of regret. And for what? Jimmy shook his head and put his hand over his mouth as he fought back tears. His mobile rang. It was Mitch.

‘Where are you? Eddie’s looking for you.’

Jimmy swallowed and tried to compose himself.

‘I’m out for a walk. I’ll be back shortly. You at the hotel?’

‘Aye. We’ve a meet on at six. You’d better get back.’ Mitch hung up before he could answer.

All three of them stood in silence, Jimmy desperate to put his arms around Wendy and hold her, tell her how much he loved her, convince her to stick with him. The UVF was his life now. He was making money. Soon they could have their own place, and the way things were going, he would get noticed back in the Shankill. He was big Jack Dunlop’s son, and had a huge reputation to live up to. Jimmy looked away from Wendy and he could see in her eyes that she sensed she had lost him.

‘I need to go. They’re looking for me,’ he muttered, shaking his head as he turned away from them and left.

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

‘Uh-oh! Jimmy’s coming out of the building on his own,’ Javier said. ‘Not a good sign.’

‘Shit!’ Rosie looked out from the cafe window and saw Jimmy walking away from them. ‘It must have gone tits up.’

She’d barely spoken when her mobile rang, and she answered it, recognising Liz’s voice.

‘It didn’t go well, Rosie. Jimmy walked out.’ Liz was matter-of-fact.

‘We saw him. We’re in the cafe across from your place. We thought we’d wait here and hope for the best. What happened?’ Rosie strained her neck so she could see Jimmy along the narrow street.

Javier interrupted. ‘Looks like he’s going into that bar just over there.’ He pointed, and Rosie eased herself off her seat to get a better view while she listened to Liz.

‘Obviously he was totally bowled over to see Wendy, and
she was the same,’ Liz continued, ‘but as soon as I mentioned we’d talked to a reporter, he freaked out.’

‘It was always a risk.’ Rosie knew the implications of showing their cards to Jimmy. She glanced at Javier who had one eye on the window. He made a sympathetic face back at her.

‘Do you think that’s it from Jimmy? How did it finish?’ Rosie asked.

‘His phone rang and he said big Eddie was looking for him, so he left. But he was really freaking about the idea of talking to a reporter and about cooperating with the cops. Said he might as well blow his brains out now as grass up the UVF.’

Rosie was silent, trying to second-guess what Jimmy would do next.

‘I need to go, Liz,’ she said suddenly. ‘Stay where you are and I’ll phone you in a few minutes.’ She put the phone in her bag.

It wouldn’t be the first rush-of-blood moment for Rosie. In the past they’d either proved to be inspirational, with her pulling rabbits out of hats when all else had failed, or they had ended in big trouble. She didn’t stop to consider which one this was. She stood up.

‘What are you doing?’ Javier grabbed hold of her wrist.

‘I’m going after him.’ She slung her bag over her shoulder.

‘Rosita?’ Javier glanced at Garcia who looked confused.

Rosie put her arm out in a calming gesture.

‘Look. I need to try something. It’ll either work or it won’t. But I have to try. Okay?’ She addressed all three of them.

Adrian got up.

‘I will come. I will stay nearby. In case.’

‘I think this is not good idea.’ Garcia shrugged, blowing smoke out of the side of his mouth. ‘Is maybe be dangerous to approach this man.’ If he was worried, he did a good impression of boredom.

‘I’m going to try.’ Rosie was already turning to leave. ‘He won’t do anything crazy. Not in a foreign country.’

Javier puffed, perplexed.

‘Famous last words.’ He stood up. ‘I should go with you.’

‘Javier,’ Rosie said, touching his arm. ‘I have to be on my own for this. I know what I’m going to do. Now just wait. It won’t take long.’

‘I know what you are going to do, Rosie.’ Javier raised his eyebrows to Adrian, who gave him a reassuring nod.

‘Don’t go away.’ Rosie flashed them a defiant smile as she left.

Jimmy was standing at the bar, already halfway through a beer that couldn’t have been poured more than a minute ago. Still wearing her dark glasses, Rosie walked across to the bar and ordered a coffee in Spanish. From the corner of her eye, she caught him clocking her, then nod to the
barman for a refill. She stirred her coffee and waited until he drained the sweating tumbler then lifted the new beer and took a sip. Her heart did a little flutter. Then she took a sip of coffee and made a step towards him.

‘Jimmy Dunlop?’

His body flinched as though he’d been poked by a cattle prod. He half turned his head towards her.

‘What?’

‘I’ve got some information for you. You need to hear me out. This is important. You
will
want to know this.’

He towered above her, solid in a tight black T-shirt and Rosie glanced at his UVF tattoo on his muscled forearm. She gave him a your-muscles-don’t-scare-me look.

Jimmy put down the glass and stayed staring at the bar for a minute, then he turned his head to her.

‘Who the fuck are you?’ His face was a mixture of confusion and anger.

‘I’ll tell you that in a minute. But first—’

‘Fuck off, whoever you are.’ Jimmy jerked his thumb and turned away from her, fixing his eyes on the gantry.

For a couple of breaths Rosie stood there, conscious of the hand by his side forming a fist. There was no option but to go on. She could feel the blood pulsating in her neck.

‘The cops back in Glasgow have got a bank card with your fingerprints all over it …’ Who cares if that might not be true, she told herself, astonished at how convincing it sounded.

Nothing. He stood still as a statue, but in those brief seconds she could see her words register in his brain, and the colour drain from his face. Game on.

‘
Your
fingerprints, and Eddie McGregor’s,’ Rosie blurted. ‘The card belonged to Thomas Ritchie, the drug dealer fished out of the quarry a couple of weeks ago along with James Balfour. They’d been shot.’ She paused. ‘But of course you knew that, didn’t you?’