Hunted (31 page)

CHAPTER 33

Gill and Rick were under siege. A sea of reporters had gathered outside their cottage so they’d barricaded themselves in and drawn the curtains, sitting in tense silence as they listened to the crowd milling around outside. Rick had unplugged the landline after they’d been deluged with calls.

“Why can’t they leave us alone?” cried Gill, reaching the end of her tether. She leapt up of the couch and yanked the curtains open. “Leave us alone,” she screamed through the window.

“Pull yourself together,” said Rick, drawing the curtains again and ushering her away from the window. “They’ll soon get bored and go away.”

When his mobile phone started to ring she released a shriek. “Oh no, they’ve got hold of our mobile phone numbers now. Make them go away,” she exclaimed, pressing a hand to her forehead in a tortured fashion.

“Will you get a bloody grip, it’s just Ryan.” He pressed the phone to his ear, shoving a finger in his other ear so he could hear over Gill’s hysterics. “Alright Ryan, how are you doing?” he asked gently. “No, it’s just Gill having one of her dramas, no one’s torturing a cat. Who?”

“What does he want?” said Gill.

“He says is there a blond woman outside who looks like a preying mantis?”

“Why?”

“I don’t know yet, just take a peek.”

Gill opened up a chink in the curtains and peered through the gap. She knew who Ryan was referring to instantly. “Yes.”

“He says her name’s Gayle Westerly, he wants to talk to her.” He threw back his shoulders. “I’m going out there.”

“Don’t Rick, it’s not safe,” she said, clinging onto his arm.

“What do you think they’re going to do? They’re only a bunch of reporters. This isn’t Night of the Living Dead.”

“You haven’t seen some of those reporters, looks like they’ve not slept in days.”

“Hang on Ryan, I’ll take the phone out to her. I’m not letting her in the house, I’ll never get rid of her.”

Rick slipped on his shoes, took a deep breath then stepped outside still holding the phone. Gill slammed the door shut behind him. As he walked down the path the press all started shouting at him as one, raising their cameras and taking their pictures. He ran a self-conscious hand through his thinning hair, wishing he’d smartened himself up a bit first.

Scrupulously he ignored them all as he opened the gate. At first he found himself surrounded and he couldn’t pick Gayle Westerly out of the mix, then he spotted a wide voracious smile, the large white teeth both scary and acting as a beacon to him.

“Mr Thomas…,” she began.

He cut her off by thrusting the phone at her. “Someone wants to talk to you.”

She regarded it with surprise before putting it to her ear. “Hello?” Her grin broadened when she heard who was on the other end. “Just a minute.” She looked to Rick. “This way please Mr Thomas. I don’t want my colleagues hounding you and getting some information before I do. You can sit in my car while I take the call.”

He followed her to a smart silver Audi and climbed in the back while she got in the front. “Hello Mr Law and what can I do for you?”

Rick watched her, wondering what on earth Ryan could be saying that could expand that already frighteningly wide smile. Ryan was right, she did look like a preying mantis with her long thin limbs and small head that bobbed about on her shoulders, but she had the smile and demeanour of a shark.

“You have a deal Mr Law.” She took a pad and pen out of her handbag. “Now, what questions do I need to ask?”

Five minutes later she handed the phone back to Rick. “Thank you Mr Thomas. That was very informative,” she said, smirking out of the car window at her colleagues. “Any comment to make before you go?” she said as he opened the car door.

Rick knew better than to utter one word to people like her so he just hopped out and hurried back up the path to his house, pushing his way through the crowd as they tried to block his path.

When he attempted to open his front door it refused to budge. “Gill for God’s sake, it’s just me. Open the bloody door,” he called.

Nothing.

“Gill, open it right now,” he said, burning with embarrassment, aware photos were being taken of him stuck on his own doorstep like an idiot. “Gill,” he yelled.

Finally the door opened and he hurried inside.

“What was that about? I saw you getting into that awful woman’s car,” she demanded.

“I’ve no idea but I think Ryan’s got a plan to put all this to bed once and for all.”

Gill peeked out of the window again. “I hope so, I can’t take much more of this.”

When one reporter raised the camera to take a photo Gill released a squeal and let the curtain drop. “They’ve all been saying horrible things in the newspapers about our daughter. One journalist said they think she was something to do with Alex’s disappearance, I mean, how silly? They loved each other like brother and sister didn’t they? She’d never do anything to hurt him.”

Rick didn’t like lying to his wife but it was the only way he could protect her from the truth. “Course not love, it’s all rubbish. You know what the tabloids are like. Alex had a lot of enemies, it was probably one of them.”

Gill smiled, reassured. “You’re right. Shall I make us a cup of tea?”

“Please love,” he said, smiling when she bustled into the kitchen, looking a lot happier. He’d watched Gill read that article about Alex, had seen her mind ticking over afterwards and knew it had been bothering her. If Gill ever found out Alex was responsible for putting that scar on her daughter’s throat she’d be glad he was dead and that just wasn’t his Gill, the knowledge would change her forever and that was something he would never allow to happen. One of the things he loved about his wife was her innocence and naivety, it made her better than the rest of them.

A large crowd had assembled outside the town hall to hear what the mayor had to say. He stood on a plinth from which protruded a furry microphone. Eddie’s lawyer was beside him, a short, slimy, rat-faced man with bum fluff for a beard. He eyed the assembled crowd with suspicion, poised to defend his client should it become necessary.

Eddie’s expression was suitably sombre and put-upon. He wore his best suit and his greying hair was for once smartly combed. A bright white plaster covered the cut above his left eyebrow, put there by Riley’s fist when he’d struggled against him. A gallery of reporters surrounded the base of the plinth, some armed with cameras. Gayle Westerly was among them, circling the plinth like a hungry shark. There was even a camera crew set up off to one side, the reporter completing his piece to camera, standing aside to allow his colleague to film when Eddie started to speak.

“I’ve lived in Devon my entire life,” began Eddie, his voice clear and confident yet full of hurt. “I am a proud son and never once in my fifty seven years have I experienced violence or even a cross word from my fellow good citizens of this great county. I am proud to live here and even prouder to be mayor. Then a shadow cast its pall across our beautiful, golden land. Criminals came into our midst, dirty drug dealers and murderers. At first we welcomed them with open arms but they came in the guise of decent, law-abiding people. We allowed them to set up home here, to infiltrate our lives and take our money and flourish when all the time they were laughing at us.” He held up one of the tabloids, a lurid headline about Ryan and Rachel splashed across the front page, his whole body shaking with moral outrage. “These are the same people who viciously attacked me when I was out for an innocent walk one evening.”

“Do you always take walks though the pitch black woods armed with a hunting rifle in the middle of the night?” Gayle called out.

“I intended to shoot pheasant,” he retorted.

“Isn’t that illegal as well as dangerous? Wouldn’t it have made more sense to go out in the daytime during the organised, legal shoots?” she added, the question accompanied by a predatory smile.

He studiously ignored her and continued with his speech. “I was innocently going about my business when I was set upon by what can only be described as five thugs who beat me senseless.”

“If you were so badly beaten why do you only have one tiny cut to your face?” was Gayle’s next smug question. “And one of the thugs as you called him is a decorated British soldier with an unblemished record, a hero.”

Once again he ignored her. “Two of these men have since mysteriously vanished, the police unable to trace them. I think we can all guess why,” he said, rattling another paper.

“Because you’re exaggerating about the number of men who attacked you Mr Cope? Were there in fact only three?”

He sighed in irritation before continuing. “After that terrible ordeal Mr Law, a so-called legitimate law-abiding local citizen, held a gun to my head.”

“Because you admitted offering Simon Marsh a job on your building site, the same building site where Daniel Tebbs’s body was discovered, so you could groom him and then hunt him? Didn’t you say he was a pretty boy Mr Cope?”

Whispers raced through the crowd as Eddie glared furiously at Gayle. “I don’t know where you got that disgusting lie from young lady but it is completely and utterly false.” He hesitated when he saw Chris and Angela Marsh standing in the crowd, hate written all over their faces. Sweat broke out on Eddie’s forehead and he stumbled over his next few words before catching himself. “The only person who was in fear for his life in that forest was me, thanks to Mr and Mrs Law and their violent friends.”

“Does the name Endymion mean anything to you Mr Cope?” added Gayle.

Eddie went completely white and his jaw fell open. His lawyer gave him a sharp nudge in the ribs, which roused him. “No I don’t know that name,” he said weakly.

“Will you please let the mayor speak,” the lawyer chided Gayle, his death stare competing with her shark’s grin.

“Unless the estimable mayor can’t answer the lady’s questions,” called out a voice.

Excited murmurs ran through the crowd when they saw Ryan and Rachel making their way through the press of people towards the front, everyone standing aside to allow them to pass.

“I recommend you two keep your distance,” said the lawyer when Eddie took a step back. “Legal proceedings have already begun, you are already being sued for assault and mental distress and if you’re not careful then slander will be added to the list and a request for a restraining order will be filed.”

They continued making their towards him, undaunted.

“Why can’t you answer Ms Westerly’s perfectly reasonable questions, if you’re so innocent?” said Ryan.

“Because they’re completely ridiculous and not worth wasting my time on,” Eddie retorted.

The lawyer leaned past Eddie to reach the microphone. “My client has been through enough and he still shouldn’t be defending himself when the police have declared him innocent of any crime.”

“I heard it was more a case of they couldn’t find enough evidence,” retorted Ryan. “There is a difference.”

“If I were you Mr Law I’d be quiet before I made things worse for myself.”

“I can safely say your client isn’t getting a single penny off us,” called out Ryan. He turned his granite glare on Eddie. “You’re as guilty as Brian Crossly and Gerard Kerrell and you stand here before us all using your cover as the good mayor to try and worm your way out of it. Yes, myself and my wife have made our mistakes in the past, mistakes that have been ludicrously overblown by the media, but compared to you we are innocent children. You can stand there and bluster all you like but you are the predator, the wolf in our midst and you will not stand in the way of the truth.”

Eddie’s mouth opened and closed soundlessly as he spied more angry faces in the crowd - Daniel Tebbs’s mother, Luke Jones’s wife and his sister Tracey, John Owen’s dad and George Romer’s brother - all glaring at him with the light of truth in their eyes.

“No, you’re lying Mr Law,” he said feebly as he listened to the whispers circulate the crowd, whispers discussing his possible guilt. Eddie turned to his lawyer and hissed, “this was a stupid idea. End it now.”

The lawyer clamped a hand over the microphone and hissed back, “you must defend yourself.”

Two cars pulling up drew their attention and Eddie felt sick to his stomach when he saw Detective Inspector Boyle climb out of one of the cars looking extremely smug.

“Oh God,” he breathed, stumbling back off the plinth. He turned to run but found himself face to face with two enormous barrel chests. He looked up into Battler and Bruiser’s stern faces and released a yelp. “No, keep away from me,” he cried, staggering backwards. Eddie bumped into someone and whirled around to see the vengeful, angry faces of his victims’ families surrounding him, refusing to allow him to escape. At the centre of them all was Ryan Law looking very pleased as DI Boyle approached, already pulling his handcuffs from his belt. The bastard had known this was going to happen. How had he known?

The crowd watched in astonishment as their venerated mayor was arrested right in front of them for kidnapping and murder, the cameras frantically snapping away while the reporters shouted out their questions. The lawyer ran alongside Eddie as he was led away, cuffed and shamed, urgently issuing his instructions, but Eddie appeared not to hear him.