Read Fragile Lives Online

Authors: Jane A. Adams

Fragile Lives (11 page)

Rina shook her head. ‘Karen is gone,' she said. ‘No one knows where she is and, remember, she's spent the best part of a lifetime losing herself, keeping one step ahead of a violent father, she's had a lot of practice. George, I've no doubt, would talk to you, but I don't think he could tell you anything that isn't in the police report. He barely knew his father. The only thing George really understood about him was that his father was a violent thug who terrorized his wife and abused his children.'

‘And this other man, the one who left Parker on the cliff top?'

‘Still unidentified,' Mac said. He willed Rina not to mention the new sighting, at least not yet.

‘You got a good look at him?' Duggan's question was directed at both Rina and Tim.

‘And we spent hours looking at photographs, as did George. He wasn't there.'

Duggan slumped back in his chair as though lost in thought, looking up only when Matthew placed his coffee on the table and took his dessert plate away.

‘Thanks,' he said. ‘My compliments to the chef.'

‘That would be chefs,' Rina said. ‘The boys did a fine job, as always. So, Mr Duggan. James, since we seem to be on first name terms. What have you found out? Where did your connections take you?'

Duggan did not answer directly. ‘Tell me more about the girl,' he said. ‘I've been told she was implicated in something else. The murder of some little scrote that killed an old lady.'

Mac tried not to react. Karen's connection to Mark Dowling's murder was known to only a very select few so where had he got that from?

‘I wouldn't know,' Rina said carefully. ‘Karen is a good girl, she took as much care of her family as she could, kept them as safe as she could.'

‘And now both parents are gone and she's buggered off.'

‘As you know, Edward Parker fell to his death, the mother took her own life. She'd been unstable for many years, I understand. Edward Parker coming back into her life was probably just too much for her to cope with. I suspect it was for Karen too. I think she's spent so many years coping, no surprise that she suddenly could not cope any more. But what does this have to do with your son?'

‘Parker worked for me. You know that.'

Rina nodded.

‘And everything converges here. This hole in the wall of a place, no offence, but it's hardly the centre of the universe, is it?'

‘Some of us are glad about that,' Matthew Montmorency informed him. ‘Some of us lived for our art and simply want a nice place to be now we're retired.'

‘Oh, I'm sure you do,' Duggan said. ‘And believe me, I applaud that. I've got my own plans for a nice, quiet retirement but it is beginning to look as though the outside world is coming on a visit and your uninvited guest is intending to stop, whether you want him to or not.'

It was a sobering thought and Mac had to admit the man had a point. He changed his mind about not telling Duggan of the blond man's presence.

‘George saw the blond man again,' he said. ‘He wasn't alone.'

‘Where? When? Was the boy able to tell you anything more?'

Duggan's sudden animation told Mac clearly that Duggan himself had run out of leads.

‘What sort of records do you keep of your employees?' he asked.

‘Why?' Duggan's eyes narrowed. ‘You think this other one might have worked for me as well?'

‘It's a thought. One worth considering. I'm getting a police artist involved and CCTV recordings requisitioned.'

‘I'll see to it you have anything I've got on my employees.'

‘I'd say he was ex-military,' Tim said unexpectedly. ‘Um, that bit of speculation isn't in the police report.'

Hard grey eyes turned upon him and Duggan asked, ‘What makes you so sure then?'

Tim shrugged. ‘I'm a bit of an odd man out amongst my lot. Generations of Brandons were in the forces. My mother's side too. Family events at our place were like military reunions. You get to recognize the type. Like your friend, here.' Tim nodded in the direction of the silent Fitch. ‘A lot of Special Forces guys find it hard to settle afterwards. What you might call a disproportionate number end up in security.'

Fitch said nothing. He sipped his coffee and allowed one of the Peters sisters – Mac thought it might be Bethany – to refill his half-empty cup.

‘Fair guess,' Duggan said. ‘And you'd be right about security.' He fell silent again.

Rina was watching him carefully. ‘You aren't the only one this has happened to, are you? This, or something very like it?'

Mac's attention peaked, remembering the conversation he had had with Andy as they had collated intelligence about the Duggans.

‘Your digging, your connections, what other crimes did you uncover? What other misery?' Rina persisted.

Rina was watching the man closely; Mac no less so, he shifted uncomfortably in his seat and once again the tension, thick as chocolate but not nearly so sweet, pervaded the room.

Fitch drained his cup again and spoke for the first time. ‘I think we should ask our friend to make us more of this coffee,' he said. ‘Boss, I reckon we should talk.'

Brandy helped the coffee to unstick tongues. Fitch did not partake but Mac did, preparing for the long haul and thinking he deserved it.

‘At first we didn't know what to think,' James Duggan said. ‘We didn't see so much of him when he went to uni, but he'd still pop back a couple of weekends a month and bring his girl with him more often than not. Only reason she wasn't coming to the birthday do was because it was her mam and dad's wedding anniversary. Silver. She couldn't miss it and Pat couldn't miss his sister's party so … I keep thinking, what if she'd been with him that day or he'd stopped behind to be with her? Would he still be with us?'

‘Or would we be dealing with two bodies?' Rina added. ‘James, if whoever it was had decided to take your son then they would have found a time and a place. Either then or later.'

‘Doesn't stop you wondering though, does it? First, we wondered if he and his girl had had a tiff. We rang her when he didn't turn up and she thought it was him. She saw the number come up on her phone and thought … First words she said and I knew she and the lad hadn't fallen out. She sounded so happy, thinking it was him calling her.

‘He'd left, she said. She'd put him on the train, waved him off, then gone back home to help her mam get ready.'

Fitch took up the story. ‘Two days later we got a letter. It was a picture of Pat and a note attached, saying they'd be in touch. Best start collecting our cash together. They didn't say what or how much.'

‘This letter …?' Mac began.

Fitch went through to the hall and fetched his coat. From the inside pocket he produced a plastic bag. He handed it to Mac. Rina left her seat and pulled up a chair beside him. The ziplock bag contained a photograph and a single sheet of card carrying a printed message. A single smudge of what Mac realized was fingerprint powder despoiled the corner of the otherwise pristine surface. ‘You had it examined.'

‘Paid. Yes. Like I say, we have contacts. But there was nothing, a smudge of grease, but no prints.'

‘And you never thought to go to the police?'

Duggan shook his head.

‘Were you warned not to?'

Fitch looked at his boss. ‘Look,' he said, ‘you're right, it wasn't just Patrick. And there'd been stories about when parents and friends had gone to the police, what was done to … to the ones missing.'

Mac stared at him. ‘What are you telling me here? How big is this?'

‘We don't know,' Fitch said. He looked uneasily at the Peters sisters who were listening with rapt attention. ‘Look, I'm not being funny, but it don't seem right discussing this in front of the ladies.'

‘Oh, don't mind us.'

‘We're unshockable.'

‘And it won't go any further than this room.' Bethany turned to look at Rina. ‘Oh, I know, Rina darling, you think we need to be protected from the world, but really, we all spent so much time in it already and we're all still here.' She beamed at the assembled company and Mac could almost feel Rina's shoulders sag. Rescue came from an unexpected quarter.

‘Bethany,' Matthew said, ‘why don't you and Eliza go and sort out your music. I'm sure, if our guests have the time later, they'd love to hear you play.'

‘Oh, what a good idea.' Bethany clasped her hands and got to her feet, gesturing to her sister to follow. ‘We'll be in the back parlour.'

Fitch watched them go and visibly relaxed.

‘Are they, you know, all right?' Jimmy Duggan asked.

‘No less all right than they ever were,' Matthew told him. ‘Now, Mr Duggan, would you rather we left as well. I understand just how difficult this all must be.'

Duggan sighed. He was, Mac thought, as confused by the surreal atmosphere of the Martin household as Mac had been the first time he had encountered it. ‘Frankly,' he said at last, ‘I don't know what I want. My son is dead, nothing's going to make that less of a fact.'

‘And are other sons and daughters dead?' Rina asked him.

He shook his head. ‘Not so far as we know. There have been at least five so far, we think, though the parents won't talk. They all have good reason not to go to the police, all thought they could handle things themselves. Or should. All got their kids back, but not always unharmed.'

‘I need names, Mr Duggan,' Mac told him.

‘I'm not sure about that. They were warned, all of them. Say anything and your kids are gone, this time for good. They believe that and so do I. I pushed too hard and now my Patrick's dead and if his mother gets to know what I've done, I'll lose her and my other kids as well. She'll never live with knowing, not knowing what I've done.'

‘You got him back once?' Mac was incredulous.

Duggan nodded. ‘The first time it happened was just … unbelievable, but five days after he was taken, I got a call telling me where to take the money. Patrick was returned that night, left at the train station where they'd taken him from. He was dopey, like he'd been drugged, but he was OK. I thought it was all over and I was mad as hell. Bridie, the wife, she told me to leave off, wanted to put it all behind us and get on. So, we'd lost some money. So what, we'd got our son back and that was all she could see. Me, well, I let it play on my mind. Let it rile me that they'd done this. Taken me for a fool and put one of mine in harm's way and it got to me too that there'd been others. Of course, I didn't know then. Didn't know all of the facts, but I wanted to know and I kept on digging, kept on pushing, kept on following the rumours and cutting through the lies people were telling to protect themselves. And then Patrick was gone again and now he's dead.

‘I can't name names, not knowing what they did to my boy. I can't put others at risk. One little kiddie was just five years old. The parents didn't have the cash, they said they needed more time so the bastards cut off a finger and sent it to them. A five-year-old kid.'

‘Did they get the money?' Matthew was horrified.

Duggan nodded. ‘That was how I found out about them. They needed cash and they needed to borrow and they went to some associates of mine.'

‘So, the kidnappers,' Rina said. ‘What would have made them think these people were suitable targets?'

‘Because six months ago, raising the cash would have been a no-brainer. Then, well, like they say, investments can go down as well as up so …'

‘Are we talking legal or illegal investments here?' Mac asked.

‘Does it matter?'

‘It might. Had their losses been in the public domain they might not have been targeted.'

Duggan shrugged. ‘Maybe.' He sounded unconvinced.

‘And the fact that the kidnappers didn't know may give us an idea of what circles they move in.'

‘Academic though, isn't it, seeing as how I'm not giving names. And don't start with the threats about interfering with a police investigation, withholding evidence or whatever the jargon is. This is a private conversation at a private dinner party and I didn't say any of it. Anything you happen to find out off your own bat, well, it didn't come from me.'

Mac thought about challenging him on that but decided against. It would gain nothing.

‘What timescale are we looking at?'

‘Near as we can make out, eighteen months, give or take.'

‘And, you say, at least five incidents?'

‘That we know about.'

‘And what sort of money are we talking about? You said you were told where to take the cash.'

Duggan and Fitch exchanged a look. ‘A lot of money,' he said. ‘But when you say “cash”,' Fitch elaborated, ‘it wasn't like your holdall stuffed with banknotes.'

‘Bank transfer,' Tim guessed. ‘Wireless?'

Fitch nodded. ‘We were told to go and sit behind this fast food place. They've got Wi-Fi for their customers. We made the transfer, had it confirmed, drove home. Patrick was returned that night. We're told it's nigh on impossible to trace, we didn't even log on to the system, just piggybacked on someone else's signal. A month later, Patrick was gone again.'

Eleven

M
idmorning on Saturday saw Mac on his way to view the flat Rina had found for him. It was only a fifteen-minute walk from where he was currently renting, but it was a walk that left behind Victorian promenade and holiday shops and took him back in time a couple of hundred years. The old town clambered up the cliff either side of a tumbling river. The lifeboat station, a new build, jutted out on a concrete raft just beyond the river and plunged its ramp down into an especially deepened bay in what had once been a little harbour but had long since been silted up by the outflow of the river. Beyond that was a new marina and tiny, somewhat pretentious ‘yacht club' which Mac had seen but not yet visited.

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