‘Because it was the Delaney mob who Dolly asked to do a hit on her dad. Turns out he died in a railway accident, but I’m thinking, was it an accident? I don’t know, but Redmond can give answers to that. Max, this is my mess, not yours.’
Max let out a sigh. ‘Well, hurry the fuck up then,’ he said.
When they got to the address Jackie had given them, Steve was already there, standing beside Jackie’s old car. The empty phone kiosk was ten yards away. There were large detached houses on this side of the road, and a dense stretch of oak woodland on the other. Jackie’s car engine was still running, headlights blaring; the driver’s door was open, the light inside the car was on. Steve took out a heavy-duty torch from his own car.
‘There’s no blood in here,’ said Annie, peering into the car’s messy interior. Jackie’s car reflected its owner’s character; outside it was OK, but inside it was littered with sweet wrappings, empty beer cans, carrier bags and inches of dust, leaves and other crap.
‘I’ll have a look around,’ said Steve, and went off first to the phone booth and then into the wooded darkness on the other side of the road.
Annie looked at Max. ‘What if Redmond took him inside the house?’
‘Why would he do that? Just as likely Steve’s going to trip over Jackie, stiff as a board and stone-dead any minute, back there.’
‘Christ.’ Annie shuddered. If Jackie was dead, then it was her fault. ‘You heard Jackie screaming, same as I did.’
‘That might not have been Delaney.’
‘Bullshit.’ Annie leaned against the warm bonnet of the car, her legs shaking. Her hands were shaking too. That soul-chilling scream had sent a bolt of fear right through her – fear for Jackie. Taking a handkerchief out of his pocket, Max wrapped it around his fingers and leaned in and switched the engine off, then took the keys out of the ignition. The lights went out as Max closed the car door and locked it, wiped the keyhole, pocketed the keys. Annie pushed herself away from the car and started walking.
‘Where you going?’ said Max.
‘Where do you think?’
Max came and placed himself in front of her. ‘No, you’re not.’
‘Look – if he did this-’ she started, stepping around him.
Max grabbed her arm. ‘You don’t know he’s done anything.’
‘I know he’s fucking evil. I know that.’
Steve came back, the torch throwing a wavering cone of white in front of him. He reached them and flicked off the torch. ‘Nothing,’ he said. ‘The phone was off the hook, that’s all. No sign of a struggle.’
‘He could be inside the house. We can’t just go,’ said Annie, shaking her head as if to clear it. ‘Jackie’s done what I asked, he’s found Redmond. We’re here. So you can do what you fucking well like, but I’m going over there and I’m going to speak to him.’
Redmond himself opened the door. Not a housekeeper, not a servant, not a henchman – although there was a man coming in through the back door into the kitchen at the end of the hall when they arrived at Redmond’s house. He was tall, stooping, dark-haired, scruffy and mean-eyed.
Annie was instantly struck by how little Redmond had changed since she’d seen him last. He still had those killer-cold green eyes, that long, pale, perfectly symmetrical face, the neatly trimmed red hair. Last time she’d seen him he was wearing a priest’s cassock; this time he was in dark slacks and an expensive-looking cream shirt. He was devastatingly attractive as always.
Annie thought of all that he had been in the past, and all that Jackie had told her about Redmond and the female parishioners. And she was suddenly very glad that she had Max and Steve standing right behind her. The sight of Redmond gave her the dry heaves.
‘Mrs Carter! And Mr Carter, I see. And a friend too. What a pleasant surprise,’ said Redmond smoothly.
‘Cut the fucking bullshit, Redmond,’ said Max, before Annie could open her mouth. ‘Where’s Jackie Tulliver?’
‘I sent Jackie to find you,’ said Annie.
‘Did you?’ Redmond looked perfectly composed, the picture of innocence. ‘Please, come in.’
Feeling like a fly stepping on to a spider’s web, Annie crossed the threshold of Redmond Delaney’s home.
91
Is Jackie in here somewhere? she wondered. The same thought was obviously crossing Steve and Max’s minds, because Steve said, ‘Mind if I take a look around the place?’
Redmond shrugged, seeming perfectly relaxed. Whether he said yes or no, it was obvious Steve was going to do it anyway. ‘Of course. Although you won’t find your missing friend here, I’m afraid.’
Steve didn’t reply, he just left the room. They could hear his footfalls as he climbed up to the first floor, could hear the old boards creaking as he moved about up there.
‘Please – sit down,’ said Redmond.
‘I’ll stand, thanks,’ said Max. He planted himself against the wall beside the door and pulled out a gun and pointed it in Redmond’s direction.
Redmond’s eyes opened wide in surprise, but he made no comment.
‘This is Mitchell,’ said Redmond, as the stooping man came into the room, sent a long look at Max and the gun, and took up a position on the other side of the door. ‘He keeps house for me. Sees to things. You know. Mrs Carter…?’ Redmond indicated a seat on the other side of the fire.
Annie sat down, and so did he. The atmosphere in the room was suddenly thick with a palpable air of menace.
‘What did you want to find me for, Mrs Carter?’ asked Redmond.
‘My friend’s been killed. Dolly Farrell,’ said Annie bluntly.
‘Killed? What, you mean an accident?’
‘No accident. She was shot in her flat over the Palermo club. She was managing it for us, for the Carters.’
‘I see. I’m sorry for your loss, Mrs Carter, but I don’t understand how you expect me to help with this.’
‘You knew Dolly – didn’t you?’ asked Annie.
‘Oh, from years back. She was an acquaintance, occasionally an employee, back then.’
‘In the Limehouse knocking shop,’ she said, remembering that Redmond’s language was always formal and polite. He might be an arsehole, but you’d never guess it when you spoke to him.
‘That’s correct,’ he said.
‘Her father abused her.’
Redmond was silent for a long while. Then he said: ‘Yes. I knew about that.’
‘And Dolly asked the Delaney family to do away with her father.’
‘Yes, that’s right too.’
‘Only my friend Jackie’s turned up stories of an accident on the railway where Dolly’s dad worked. And I just wondered… was it an accident?’
‘What does any of that matter now?’
‘It matters because someone might be upset at what happened to the old tosser. They might have gone looking for revenge. They might have targeted Dolly. Did the Delaneys organize that “accident”?’
‘God moves in mysterious ways, his wonders to perform, Mrs Carter.’ Redmond gave a chilling smile. ‘Yes, your Aunt Celia brought Dolly Farrell to me, wanting me to do something about her father. She explained the situation – it was quite distressing. A kiddie fiddler. A filthy nonce. Is there anything lower? Anything worse?’
Annie shook her head. No. There wasn’t. ‘So… what happened?’ she asked.
‘I said, “Let his co-workers decide his fate. Let’s tell them what he is, what he’s done.” Of course they were in uproar. You can rely on the masses for hysteria, I find. One person on his own? Not so bad. An angry group of people? Lethal.’
‘And so?’ Annie prompted. She could hear Steve upstairs, going from room to room.
Fuck it, Jackie, where are you?
But she kept her focus on Redmond. She had to hear the rest of this.
‘They all agreed, all of Sam Farrell’s railway workmates, that he was scum and must go. Arthur Biggs was the train driver, but he was reluctant. He said the guilt would be on his shoulders, he was the one who would back the engine on to Sam Farrell; even if all the others swore it was an accident, he was the one who would do it.’