‘Glad you asked. Apparently, according to the official version put out by the Sloanes, Graham Watts didn’t like the direction the company was taking and voiced his displeasure. As a result, he was kicked out. And since Hibbert was a close friend, he got the chop too.’ Mickey stole another crisp.
‘Stop it!’
‘Not bad, actually. Could get used to them. Anyway, they were both kicked out. But they made a fuss. Started mouthing off: they knew where the bodies were buried, were going to ruin the Sloanes, yada yada, blah blah.’
‘The usual stuff.’
‘Yep. But the thing was, their version contradicted the Sloanes’. Watts and Hibbert said it wasn’t about the expansion of the business. They were more than happy with that, it made them more money.’
‘What then?’
‘The Sloanes themselves.’
‘In what way?’
‘Well … ’ Mickey looked at the screen once more. ‘Michael Sloane made a full recovery after the shooting. His wounds weren’t that serious. But Dee Sloane, the sister, wasn’t so lucky. She had to keep going abroad for treatment. Expensive treatment. Word was she wasn’t quite right in the head. Needed mental as well as physical treatment.’
‘Not surprised after what she’d been through.’
‘No. And apparently she was never the same afterwards. Had to live as a recluse. But I’ve found something else, too. Some kind of weird sex parties.’
Anni smiled. ‘How weird?’
‘Get your mind out of the gutter, Hepburn. I don’t know. But Watts and Hibbert alluded to them. In fact they were supposed to have been part of them. Rumour was that Watts and Dee Sloane had something going and the brother didn’t like it. Then something else happened. Remember that case a few years ago? Dead cockle pickers at Wrabness?’
‘Yeah. Migrant workers. Left out when the tide came in. Big court case.’
‘Yeah, huge. And it was the Sloanes. It could have broken them. But they got away with it.’
‘How?’
‘Witnesses retracted their stories, a couple even disappeared. No evidence of negligence. Death by misadventure. The Sloanes got off as lightly as possible. They started to diversify their business interests shortly after that.’
Anni screwed up her crisp packet, threw it in the bin. ‘Not people to mess with.’
‘Nope. And apparently a few of their business rivals have disappeared after dealing with them too.’
‘You mean gone out of business?’
‘No. I mean disappeared. Without a trace. Investigations took place … ’ He shrugged. ‘Nothing. Like they’d vanished off the face of the earth. Sloanes completely untouchable.’
‘Jesus. So where does Stuart Sloane fit in? Is he after revenge too?’
‘God knows.’ Mickey took his phone out. ‘I’ll give Jessie a call. She might have discovered something. She’s been working this case too.’
‘Don’t you think she would have contacted us if she had?’
‘Maybe.’ Mickey smiled. ‘Maybe she’s scared of you. Doesn’t want to call in case you answer.’
‘Maybe she fancies me,’ said Anni.
‘Maybe.’
‘And you can take that look off your face as well, Philips,’ she said, laughing.
Mickey dialled the number.
82
Tyrell watched as Amy ended the call and put the phone away in her jeans pocket. Her shoulders slumped, her eyes stayed downcast on the floor. She didn’t look good.
The whole situation didn’t look good.
Tyrell glanced at Josephina, back to Amy. The woman shook her head. ‘We’ve been set up,’ she said.
‘What?’
‘Little Josephina’s mummy doesn’t want her back as much as she said.’
Tyrell was confused. ‘I don’t … ’ He looked at Amy, searching her face for answers. He read familiar emotions in her eyes. Anger. Madness. But he saw something new, something he hadn’t yet seen there. Despair. And somehow he found that more distressing.
The crowd on the bales were still looking in the other direction, still screaming. He stood behind them at the back wall, between two hay bale seating areas, feeling like the still point in a raging storm. The calm eye.
But he was anything but calm. His heart was racing, panic threatening to overwhelm him. He could see Josephina’s mother beside the ring, a mass of people between them. She looked distraught. Josephina was straining, desperate, crying to be free, to go and see her. Her cries were lost in the screaming crowd. He looked again at Amy. She had gone back into herself, unmoving.
‘What … what did she say?’
Amy didn’t reply. Didn’t even acknowledge that she had heard.
Must be the noise, thought Tyrell. He tried again, louder.
‘What did she say? What’s happening now?’
‘She’s betrayed us,’ said Amy. It sounded like the voice of a dead person.
Tyrell shivered. ‘What? What d’you mean?’
Amy turned to him. Her eyes too were like those of a dead person. ‘She told someone else. And they’re coming for us. They’re going to take you away. And me.’
From the way she was speaking, Tyrell thought he was expected to feel shocked or angry. But all he felt was relief. They could take him away. Put him back in prison. And he could rest.
‘But I’m not going to let her win. And I’m not going to let him win either … ’
‘What d’you mean? Who are you talking about?’
‘The kid’s no good to us now.’
‘So we can let her go?’
Another sigh from Amy. She looked him straight in the eye. And what he saw there scared him. ‘Don’t be stupid. No. We kill her. Now.’
83
‘Oh thank God,’ said Helen, her heart rate slowing, hand clutching her chest. ‘It’s you.’
Dee smiled. ‘Who else were you expecting?’
Helen managed a small, tight laugh. ‘I don’t know. It’s just … ’ She looked round, gestured at the piled-up boats. ‘You know. Scary. Never know who could be hanging around in there.’
Dee’s smile didn’t waver. ‘You’re right. You don’t.’
Helen gave another laugh, stood there regaining her breath. ‘So,’ she said, ‘are we off?’
‘Have you got everything you need?’
Helen pointed to her suitcase. ‘Everything in here. For now.’
‘You didn’t tell anyone that you were coming here, that you were meeting me?’
‘No. I told you I wouldn’t.’
‘And you weren’t followed?’
A mental image of the two police officers flashed briefly into her head. She discounted it. No. There had been no one following her. She had checked. ‘No. Just me.’
‘Good.’
‘Have you got … ’ Helen paused, not wanting to appear mercenary, ‘the money?’
‘Everything’s sorted,’ Dee said. Then she nodded, as if deep in thought, as if reaching a conclusion about something. ‘Yes. Everything’s sorted.’
Helen smiled. ‘Great. Let’s go.’
Dee placed a hand on Helen’s arm. There was power in the grip. Heavy restraint.
‘Ow, that hurt. What are you …?’
Helen’s sentence remained unfinished. Behind Dee, from further in the piles of stacked boats, a shadow detached itself. A huge shadow. It came slowly towards Helen, appeared in the street light. It was a man, one of the biggest she had ever seen. Hulking, grey-skinned. Arms wrapped in dirty, bloodied bandages. His eyes caught the light. Glittered, dancing to a demented tune Helen hoped she would never hear.
He moved slowly towards her.
‘You’re right,’ said Dee, cruel laughter undercutting her words. ‘You never know who’s hanging around in here … ’