Blood Tracks (27 page)

“Sissouma’s boss was furious about the missing diamonds and Sissouma questioned anyone who’d been part of the smuggling operation but, even with his interrogation methods, he was getting nowhere. So he sent people after me and when they tracked me down I ended up losing two fingers before he was satisfied that I didn’t have anything to do with it.

“But despite the violence, I never told him about Marty. I didn’t want him thinking that the family may know where the stones were. He would have come after you. I did everything I could to protect you.”

“Don’t pretend you were protecting us,” Gina raged. “You didn’t tell him because you thought Dad might have hidden the real stones and you wanted to find them, make money out of them. That’s why you came back.”

“No! I was never sure if your dad had swapped the diamonds or if he’d found the fakes in the sack. But now I
do
know. Your dad just didn’t trust me enough to hand them over, so he swapped them with stones for a fish tank.” Tom let out a genuine laugh of approval.

“Yeah and that’s because my dad must have known what a greedy, deceitful bastard you really are!”

“Maybe,” he replied, his laughter gone. “But I came back for you, your mum and Danny. Don’t you think it would have been easier for me to disappear? I didn’t want to be involved any more, but I came back to look after you even though it’s meant Sissouma following me, threatening me and dragging me back into this business; even though it’s meant having to face what I did every day; being in your house, surrounded by memories of Marty, having to look at his ashes on that bloody shelf every day! It’s been torture, but I’ve done it because I wanted to be there for you, to be part of your family. I wanted to give you all a great life.”

Gina shook her head in disbelief. “You murder my father and then try and take over his family, make moves on his wife, play at being our new
dad
! What kind of sick bastard are you?”

“I was trying to make things better and I will, I can, even now. Just make that phone call. I’ll go and collect the diamonds, give them to Sissouma and disappear out of your lives for ever. I promise that you’ll never have to see me again. I’ll sell the business, leave the country. I’ll transfer enough money into your mum’s account to make sure that you’ll be comfortable for years to come.”

“You think that you can buy me off!” she spat.

“That’s not what I’m trying to do. It’s just what you deserve. Please, Gina, I’ve told you everything. Every word is true. Now make the phone call like you promised.” He snatched a quick glance at his watch. “We only have twelve minutes before they go to Sissouma.”

“No!” she said. “I’m not going to.”

“What? But you’ve got to! You promised!”

Gina looked him unflinchingly in the eye. “I don’t have to keep a promise to the man who murdered my dad.”

She turned to walk away from him but was stopped by the sight of a lorry pulling up across the end of the street,
Chunky Chocs
emblazoned on its side.

The driver honked his horn and drove away, leaving Declan standing in the road.

Declan ran to Gina, distressed on seeing her battered face.

“Did you do this to her?” Declan roared at Cotter.

“Don’t worry,” Gina said through her swollen lips. “This is nothing compared to what Sissouma will do to him.”

“Tell her to make the call!” Tom implored Declan. “She’s going to get me killed!”

“Gina, what’s he talking about?”

Gina remained tight-lipped, gripping her phone.

“She’s left the diamonds with someone – they’re going to take them to Sissouma, tell him I was going to cheat him. He’ll kill me. We’ve only got a few minutes. She’s got to stop them.”

Declan looked at Gina’s tear-filled eyes. “Come on, Gina. You can’t let this happen,” he said gently.

“He killed my dad,” she whispered. “Why shouldn’t I let Sissouma kill him?”

Declan turned to Tom, open-mouthed. Cotter’s silence, an admission of guilt.

Declan was in turmoil, thinking what to say.

“Because…because…you’re not like
him
, Gina. You wouldn’t let someone die. Trust me, I know you. You won’t let this happen.”

If looks could kill, Declan Doyle would have died on the spot. He didn’t know why Gina stared at him like that, he only knew that he wasn’t getting through to her.

“Let the police deal with him,” Declan said.

“No! He killed my dad and made everyone believe that it was suicide. I hate him. I want him to suffer.”

“And he will. He’ll be banged up for years. He’ll have nothing, he’ll be nobody.”

“It’s not enough!” she cried, tears starting to roll down her face.

“Listen, Gina. I never knew your dad but I know how much you loved him, what a fantastic guy he must have been. Do you think
he’d
want Cotter dead? Do you think
he’d
want that kind of justice?”

There was a flicker of change across her face that Tom seized upon.

“Gina, your dad would do the right thing and I know that you will,” Cotter pleaded.

She hesitated, staring at the man for whom she felt such a terrifying hatred and then she reluctantly loosened her grip on the phone and tapped in the numbers.

“Thank you, thank you,” Tom jabbered with relief.

“I’m not doing this for you,” she said. “This is for my dad.”

“Hello…” an Irish voice sang in Gina’s ear.

“Hello, Mrs. Mac—” Gina said urgently.

“…Sorry, I can’t make it to the phone right now. Please leave your message and number after the beep and I’ll be getting back to you. Bye bye.”

Beep!

“Mrs. Mac, this is Gina. Are you there? Pick up the phone if you’re home. It’s urgent! Mrs. Mac, don’t take that parcel I gave you round to my house. It’s very important that you DON’T take it! Please phone me back as soon as you get this message.”

“Where is she?” Tom barked. “Phone her mobile, for God’s sake!”

Declan answered gravely. “Mrs. Mac doesn’t have a mobile. She doesn’t approve of them. They go off in church. She gets very upset.”

Clare put her arm around Danny but he shuffled out of her reach.

“It’s okay, Mum. I’m not afraid of him,” he said, glaring at Sissouma. “And as for that one; I could beat him up with my little finger.” Egon groaned at Danny and took another sip of his tea.

Sissouma let out a belly laugh. “Young man, you would make a brave soldier. I imagine you like all those computer games where you shoot the figures on the screen. I’ve noted that in this country all the boys love the war games. But if you were in my country, working for my boss, you could be doing that for real. He is a great commander and he does not discriminate against the young. He knows that many of the finest, fiercest soldiers are children and he looks after them like they are part of his own family. Would you like that, Danny? Would you like to be a real soldier, carrying a real gun?”

“Shut up! Leave him alone!” Clare snapped.

A knock on the front door silenced the tense room.

Clare got up defiantly from the sofa. Sissouma grabbed her arm and pulled her back down.

“No, Mrs. Wilson,” he whispered. “We don’t want any unnecessary visitors. Let’s just sit quietly until they go away.”

They sat and listened, each knock and ring of the bell making Clare flinch.

Bridie and Mrs. McManus stood on the doorstep of the Wilson household.

“I don’t think anyone’s in, Deirdre. The living room curtains are closed and you’ve done enough knocking to wake the dead,” Bridie said.

“But they must be in. Gina was very clear. She said to bring it round now.”

Bridie put on her glasses and looked at her wristwatch. “Actually, she said to leave it an hour, and that means we’re ten minutes early.”

“Well, you know I can’t abide being late for anything,” Mrs. Mac said.

“Yes, but maybe this fella isn’t here yet.”

“Give it one more try then. Let him know why we’re here. He might think that we’re Jehovah Witnesses or something.”

Bridie bent down to the letter box, held the flap open and bellowed into the hallway.

“Cooee! Is there anyone home? We’ve got an important parcel and message for a Mr. Sissouma. Well, I suppose it’s more of a pencil case than a parcel and the message is a bit odd, but Gina asked us to come over and tell you. We’re nothing if not reliable, isn’t that right, Deirdre?”

Mrs. McManus nodded solemnly.

“So, Mr. Sissouma, if you’re there, love, would you come to the door? I can’t be bending down like this all day, I’ll seize up.”

Sissouma came rushing out of the living room and opened the front door.

“I’m Mr. Sissouma,” he said, helping the elderly lady straighten up.

Bridie’s magnified eyes twinkled. “Well, aren’t you a strapping fella?”

“You said that you have a parcel and message from Gina Wilson?”

“We do indeed,” Mrs. Mac said, waving the fluffy purple pencil case.

“Then
please
, come in.”

Mr. Egon gathered his equipment from the kitchen table and beckoned Sissouma out of the living room.

“So sorry to interrupt you, Bridie, but my colleague needs me for a moment,” Sissouma said, as he stopped the old lady mid-sentence and walked into the hallway.

Egon wore a broad smile across his gaunt face.

“How nice to see you looking so happy, Mr. Egon. Have you got some good news for me?”

“Oh yes, Mr. Sissouma. I can verify that we have in our possession quite exquisite specimens. The finest that I’ve ever seen.”

Sissouma clapped his hands together in delight and stepped back into the living room to address the gathering.

“Well, ladies and Master Wilson. I would love to stay and hear another of Bridie’s stories of her triumphs in the bingo hall but, unfortunately, Mr. Egon and I must bid you
au revoir
.”

“Oh, what a pity. I could talk to you all day. What charming friends you have, Mrs. Wilson,” Bridie trilled to the nervous woman and her rather rude son, who sat glaring at Sissouma.

“Thank you very much for your hospitality, Mrs. Wilson,” Sissouma continued. “We will leave you good people in peace, now that order has been restored.”

Clare looked at him in confusion and relief. “That’s it? It’s over? Gina will be left alone?”

Sissouma bent down and whispered in her ear. “Yes, I promise that we won’t bother you again as long as you don’t report anything to the police. So you see, ‘All’s well that ends well’, except, of course, for Mr. Cotter.”

The phone in Tom’s pocket beeped. He got it out, his breathing ragged with nerves, like the accused standing in the dock, awaiting the verdict.

He opened the message from Sissouma. Gina and Declan watched as Tom’s face paled, his eyes closed. He’d been found guilty as charged and handed down a death sentence. He knew there would be no form of appeal.

“Is it from Sissouma?” Declan asked.

Tom’s eyes darted around like a hunted animal. “I’ve got to get as far away from here as possible. The man is going to kill me.”

“Then hand yourself in to the police. It’s the least you can do for Gina; it’s your safest option. Sissouma can’t get you if you’re banged up.”

“I wouldn’t be safe in prison. I’d be a sitting duck. He has contacts everywhere. All it takes is for him to call in a favour, grease a few palms and I’d have my neck broken in the shower, or my back stabbed in the exercise yard.” Tom began to stride away.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Gina shouted after him. “You don’t get to walk away from this. That’s not justice!”

“No, but it’s survival, Gina. I’m sorry.”

“You’d better stop, right now,” Declan shouted.

Cotter turned round; a sneer played on his face. “Or what? Are
you
going to stop me, Declan? Are you trying to play the knight in shining armour? It’s not going to work. Gina knows that you’ve been making a fool of her, lying to her, using her to get at me.”

Declan glanced, shamefaced, at Gina.

“Gina, don’t listen to him,” Declan begged.

“Why? Is he lying?” she asked, already knowing the answer.

“Well…no, not exactly, but now’s not the time to talk about this. He’s just trying to distract us; divide us. He’s the enemy, Gina, not me. I’m not going to let him get away.”

“You stay where you are,” Tom barked. “Just remember your little dip in the sea.”

Declan charged at him, ramming his shoulder into Cotter’s stomach, wrapping his arms around the man’s legs and pulling his feet from under him. Cotter hit the ground like a felled tree. Groaning, Tom struggled to release his legs from Declan’s grip. He delivered sharp little kicks into Declan’s stomach until the young man could hold on no longer. Cotter scrambled away from him, but Declan pounced on him again, straddling his waist, raising his fist, ready to hit Tom in the face. But he wavered – he’d never hit anyone before, not even in a playground scrap.

Declan’s hesitation cost him dearly, as Tom powered a right hook into Declan’s side. Declan’s breath was trapped in his throat and a searing pain from his kidney travelled through his body. He fell backwards in agony and Tom wasted no time in exchanging positions. Now Tom sat on top of him, grinding his knees into the crooks of Declan’s arms, pinning them down. Declan let out a yelp.

“Never hesitate,” Tom hissed, delivering a vicious punch to Declan’s face. The skin above his left eye split. Warm blood began to trickle from it, getting caught in his eyelashes.

“Stop it!” Gina screamed, trying to drag Tom off him, but Tom flung her away, effortlessly.

“By the time I’m finished with him, he won’t be able to get up, let alone come after me,” Tom promised, landing another punch to the side of Declan’s head.

Gina looked around frantically and saw the bottle of aftershave on the ground. She picked it up and pulled out the stopper. She heard the dull, sickening thud of another punch. She approached the kneeling man from behind; reaching her hand under his chin, she jolted his head back. Tom’s startled eyes looked up at her as she poured the aftershave into them.

He let out a howl, rolling off Declan and staggering around blindly, his hands over his burning eyes.

Declan mumbled to Gina, “Run down to the main road. Get help. I’ll phone the police.”

Police cars and an ambulance arrived at the bridge within minutes. Gina had grabbed a passer-by to help, but Tom was in too much pain to put up any resistance. The paramedics tended to his eyes. They were hidden under an angry mass of swollen skin.

Gina did a double take as “Uncle” Stevie emerged from one of the cars.

“Your uncle is a copper?” she said to Declan, in surprise.

“He’s not my uncle,” Declan admitted.

“But I am a copper,” Stevie added, shifting the paramedics aside to get at their patient.

“Thomas Cotter, I’m arresting you on suspicion of the murder of Martin Wilson, assault and the smuggling of illegal diamonds.”

Tom tried to open his eyes to find Gina. “Hey, Gina,” he shouted out. “Now we know what your little friend is. Declan Doyle is a grass! The lowest of the low.”

“I think
you
deserve that title, Mr. Cotter,” Stevie said drily, slapping the handcuffs on him.

“I’m going to accompany Cotter to the hospital but I need you two to come down to the station. I’ll get the duty doctor to have a look at you. You both look like you’ve been in the wars.”

“Am I under arrest?” Declan asked nervously.

“No! I’m a happy bunny, Declan. I’ve got my result. We’ve got Sissouma and Egon. We had unmarked cars on Gina’s street. We waited until they left the house and then we picked them up, diamonds and all, and now we’ve got Cotter – that’s what you call a full house!” He grinned smugly.

“Then just give me a few minutes with Gina,” Declan said. “I’ve got some explaining to do.”

The detective looked at Gina’s stormy face and took a sharp intake of breath. “Well, good luck with that. I’ll see you both later; that’s if you survive, lad.”