A Family Divided (Dividing Line #3) (6 page)

CHAPTER 4

Dolores, manager of Martina
’s Bar and a good friend to Rachel, was positively ecstatic about Rachel’s offer to finance her on a trip to the casino. The club was starting to fill up quickly and Rachel was glad no one was letting the activities of The Slasher put them off a good night out. They were sat at the end of the bar chatting, Dolores keeping one eye on the staff. Since The Slasher had started operating Rachel had upped security, using protégés trained by Battler and Bruiser themselves working in three teams of two, all properly licensed and wearing smart black suits with radios and earpieces. Rachel didn’t deal in amateur gorillas.

“
Too right I’ll do it. I’ve never been to The Crown but I have heard a lot about it,” enthused Dolores, her considerable bosom wobbling with excitement. She was a short neat woman in her early fifties with cropped blond hair. She always dressed smartly in tailored skirt suits, the top buttons of her blouse left open to expose the cleavage she was so proud of. She’d worked at the bar since it opened and had risen to Bar Manager, until Rachel decided to take a step back to spend more time with her kids and made her General Manager of not only this club but her other two as well and she was making an excellent job of it.

“
All you have to do is keep a subtle eye out, see who comes in, what’s going on. I’ll give you two grand stake money, which you can keep plus any winnings.”

“
I’ll come out with a bloody sight more than that.”

“
I know you will Dee,” said Rachel fondly. “Thanks for this.”

“
I should be the one saying thanks, its been a while since I’ve had a good flutter. Is it okay if I take Vince with me?” Vince was her long suffering husband who worshipped the ground his small but formidable wife walked on.

“
Course you can. Does he play?”

“
Yeah but he’s shite, I kick his arse every time. If anyone asks I can say he’s taking me out for our anniversary.”

“
Is it your anniversary?”

“
No but it’s a good cover. It’ll be thirty years in September, pearl. What am I supposed to buy a man like Vince that’s made of pearl? Daft it is.”

“
Remind me, we’ll throw a party. That’s something to celebrate.”

“
Not if you’d been married to the miserable sod all that time.” Despite her words, it was said with great affection. “Obviously I can’t do tomorrow night because I’ll be here but we can go Sunday night.”

“
That’s fine. So how do the staff feel about working here with The Slasher on the loose?”

“
They’re fine by it. They feel safe with the Maguire name above the door, like it’s a magic talisman that can keep away the bad people.”

“
And what do you think?”

“
In my experience, the Maguire name can attract the bad people too.”

“
I can’t disagree with you there.” Rachel had always appreciated Dolores’s straightforward way of speaking, an increasingly rare trait these days. She wished Alex would be so open with her. “I might as well go over the books while I’m here, although I’m sure they’re in order. I’ll be in the office if you need me.”

“
Okay,” said Dolores, returning to her post behind the bar. Despite her new loftier position, that was where she was happiest.

It didn
’t take Rachel long to check the books. Just like all her other businesses it was running perfectly, everything in order and making a profit. She replaced the books in the safe then reclined back in her chair, wishing she could have a scotch but she was driving. Maybe she should look into The Crown Casino more closely? There was skulduggery afoot and she wanted to know what it was, she wanted to be challenged again. Alex wandered through her mind. She was losing his friendship, she was certain of that, their lives had deviated too much. The thought made her sad but also apprehensive. He was not someone she wanted as an enemy. Even though she was a Law now, Alex still felt to be as much her brother-in-law as Jez did.

She gathered up her things and headed back downstairs to the club, which was substantially busier than before she went upstairs. At least The Slasher wasn
’t affecting business. The dance floor was crowded and she had to fight her way through the press of bodies towards the exit, the bouncers stern-faced as they kept an eye out for any trouble. Since The Slasher had gone to work they’d been on high alert.

She was almost at the door when she felt something warm and wet splatter her bare left arm and the left side of her face. Her automatic reaction was that it was a leak and she looked up, but it was warm, it couldn
’t be from a pipe. The woman to her left, a blond in a short floaty dress, was staring down at herself in horror, watching the blood seep from a large gash to her right upper arm. Her eyes locked with Rachel’s then the woman’s knees buckled and Rachel rushed to catch her, almost falling with her. The music was so loud, the lighting so dim, no one else noticed. She heard laughter and saw people pointing, thinking the woman was drunk. Rachel wrapped an arm around her waist and attempted to pull her away from the dance floor, towards the bouncers and safety when she saw a man fall, grimacing in pain, a hand pressed to his side. Another man dropped a few feet behind him, clutching at his bleeding thigh. The thing she’d always told Ryan was impossible was happening. The Slasher was here.

She hauled the woman towards Fletch and Leo, her two head bouncers.

“The Slasher’s here,” she called to them. She could go no further with the woman, who was a lot heavier than she looked and she helped her slump into the booth closest to the door. “Call the Police and an ambulance.”

Immediately they got talking on their headsets while simultaneously barrelling a path through the crowd. Rachel was glad all her doormen wore stab vests, something she
’d insisted on after a doorman at another club had been killed a few months ago by some drunken tosser with a knife. She saw her other doormen converging on the area, helping the injured to their feet but still everyone danced on, assuming the wounded were just drunk.

Rachel got the bleeding blond back to her feet and hauled her towards the coat check room where she could sit down. The door had a lock so she could be certain she
’d be safe.

“
What’s going on?” said Carmel, the coat check girl, paling when she saw the blood on them both.

“
The Slasher’s here. Fletch has called the Police. You have first aid training, help her. I’ll get the rest of the injured sent here,” Rachel replied, settling the blond in a chair. She snatched up a handful of tissues from the box Carmel kept behind the counter and wiped the blood from her face.

“
But…but…”

“
Just do it,” Rachel yelled over her shoulder as she returned to the dance floor, wishing she still carried a taser but she stopped carrying a weapon when she went legitimate.

“
Take her to the coat check room,” she told Royce, another of her doormen who was holding the weight of a bleeding, shaking man easily on one arm. “Then we need to get everyone out.”

“
But The Slasher is probably still here, we can catch him.”

“
The priority is stopping anyone else getting hurt. Get everyone out, quietly.”

He nodded in understanding and hauled the man off to the coat check room. Rachel jumped up onto the DJ stand and had to shout in the DJ
’s ear to be heard. His mouth fell open as she talked and he hastily cut off the music. There were collective boos and hisses but, ever the consummate professional, he called over the microphone in a perfectly calm voice for silence.

“
Sorry everyone but we’re going to have to call it a night. We’ve got a water leak and we need to close for repairs. Sorry all.”

When everyone started to moan, Rachel took over the mike.
“You’ll all get a free night in return with a complimentary first drink. Keep your tickets for tonight and show them at the door.”

The boos were replaced by cheers and everyone started to calmly file out, chatting and laughing. Rachel
’s heart was in her mouth as she watched, the doormen studying each and every one of the departing customers, hoping to nab The Slasher.

Just as it looked like there wasn
’t going to be a stampede, the lights suddenly came on, light flooding the room, revealing the blood all over the dance floor in all its gory glory. One woman screamed then others took up her cry and the next thing they knew two hundred people were stampeding for the exit.

“
Oh crap, who did that?” demanded Rachel, furious. When she saw one girl trip on her high heels and go down, she jumped down off the DJ stand and ran to her, grabbing her arm and pulling her out of the way before she was trampled on.

“
What’s happening?” cried the woman.

“
It’s The Slasher,” said Rachel quietly, deciding it was pointless to hide it from her. At least this way she’d know it was nothing to do with the Maguires.

“
Oh my God, oh my God,” she breathed, obviously wanting to run outside but it was impossible.

Rachel thanked God for Dolores when she saw her throwing open the fire exits and directing people through those instead and telling the bar staff and glass collectors to do the same. The herd, like the unthinking animal it was, had followed the leader and rushed for the main doors instead of taking the quicker exits. Rachel ushered the terrified girl towards Dolores and saw her safely out the door before delving back into the club.

“Rachel…,” called Dolores, but her voice was lost as she approached the crowd clamouring to get out the front doors.

Rachel saw a man pressed up against the glass between the first set of doors leading out and the coat check booth, struggling to breathe, blood from his bust nose smeared across the glass. Fletch had seen him too and was trying to reach him but couldn
’t because of the press of people.

Rachel snatched up a stool and smashed it into the glass of the panel to his left, using the legs to bang out the vicious shards stuck in the frame then reached through and pulled him out. The man flopped to the floor, fighting for breath, blood still coming from his nose and mouth. By now the dance floor was practically empty, the doormen and the rest of the staff caught up in attempting to get everyone out safely.

Rachel was amazed by how easily her nursing training kicked back in. She checked his vital signs, his pulse weak and fluttering, breathing slightly laboured but there were no signs of cyanosis, no blueness of the lips or fingertips. There was little else she could do for a crush injury.

“
It’s okay, the ambulance is on its way. You’ll be fine,” she soothed. “What’s your name?”

“
James,” he said weakly.

She grasped his hand reassuringly and he gave her a grateful smile.

“Okay James, just focus on your breathing,” she said as calmly as she could, although her own heart was fluttering. “Keep calm, breathe easy.”

Her comforting tone had an effect on the man and he visibly relaxed, although his grip on her hand was firm. She was alarmed when his eyes widened.

“Behind,” he managed to rasp.

Rachel turned and saw the glint of a blade, instinct screaming at her to duck and she did, the knife passing over the top of her head so close she heard the swish as it cut through the air. She fell back, scrabbling to get away as the hooded figure came at her again. She kicked out, her stiletto heel connecting with his shin and he grunted and hopped about on one foot.

“Fletch,” she screamed.

Her cry carried above the din, the crowd thinning as it spilled out onto the pavement and Fletch and Leo were barrelling their way towards her. The hooded figure took one look at them and decided to leg it.

“Dee, look out, it’s him,” Rachel shouted.

Gary heard her cry and pulled Dolores out of the way as the hooded figure shoved the two girls aside who were just about to pass through the fire exit and disappeared into the night, Fletch and Leo following a moment later.

“Are you…okay?” croaked a voice.

“
Fine James, just fine,” she sighed, slumping back on her elbows, exhausted. “Oh look, here comes the cavalry,” she said when a team of uniformed police officers swarmed into the room through the exit Fletch and Leo had just gone through.

“
You’re too late,” she told them. “The Slasher ran outside, my doormen are chasing him. They went the way you came in.”

Half of them turned on their heels and dashed back out into the night while the other half took over the club, tending to the wounded and getting witness statements.

Several teams of paramedics arrived and Rachel stayed with James while he was checked over and loaded onto a stretcher.

“
Will he be okay?” she asked.

“
Outlook looks good,” replied the paramedic before wheeling him away.

“
Good luck James,” she called after him.