Faces (42 page)

The first thing he did was remove brother and sister from the scene of the crime, and then he set about tracking down Danny Boy Cadogan with the least amount of fuss possible. But, before he did that, he quietly and unobtrusively removed the note he had seen among the human debris that was now covering the kitchen table.

 

Mary was white-faced and drawn, but even the young doctor at the hospital was uncomfortably aware of how lovely she still was. The loss of her child was bad enough, but the news that her father-in-law had committed suicide seemed to have hit her harder than he thought possible. It seemed to outweigh the loss of her baby, and he noticed that she seemed even more terrified after she had been delivered of the news. He wondered at her state of mind, even as he understood her husband’s need to be with his mother and siblings at this tragic time. He was sorry for her though; another miscarriage, and such a late one too, was not something he felt she needed to experience alone. As he offered all the usual platitudes, he could not help noticing the lifelessness behind her eyes. It was almost as if she was already dead inside herself, and her body was existing as a separate entity, devoid of any kind of feeling or emotion.

He left her with her brother and his girlfriend, glad to hand her over to someone else, and unable to account for the feelings she engendered inside him. He knew that there was something radically wrong with her, yet was unable to pinpoint exactly what that might be. He heard her crying softly and was pleased that she was finally letting some of her emotions out. She was wound up tighter than a watch spring, and he knew she was going to unravel spectacularly in the near future. He had seen it time and time again.

 

‘Are you all right, Mary?’ Carole’s voice was low, and dripping with concern.

Mary looked at her friend, at her open face and her easy-going kindness; envied her the way she could breeze through life without any real problems. This was exacerbated by the fact that she could never tell her about the real circumstances of her own life. Could never let on about the abortion that passed for her everyday existence. She was still comforted though, felt easier just knowing her friend was there and cared about her. It had to be enough, she knew the truth of her life would not be welcomed by any of the people important to her.

She was tired out and she was also desperate for a drink, a real drink, not the watered-down orange juice she was sipping out of habit. She smiled at her friend and sighed before saying quietly, ‘How’s Danny taken his father’s death?’

Now that her brother had left the pair of them alone she felt brave enough to enquire as to her husband’s frame of mind.

‘Not good, mare, in fact, he seems to be a bit too calm and collected to me. But then I think a suicide is something that no one knows how to react to, do they? It was such a brutal death as well. He put the gun into his mouth and shot his brains out.’

Carole shut up then, unsure if she should have been so honest considering that poor Mary was already in bits, but she was also worried about poor Danny Boy as well. After all, he had received a double blow, his father’s death, and the loss of his child. She knew Michael was unsure of what to do for the best where his sister and her husband were concerned, and she was hoping that she could take some of the burden from him. He was expected to keep things going until everything settled down once more, however long that might take.

‘How have Ange and the others taken it?’

Mary was asking because she knew it was expected of her, not because she had any real interest at all. In fact, she was glad he was gone, it was one less thing to worry about where her husband was concerned.

‘Annie found him, and it’s hit her hard. As for Ange, well, she is devastated obviously, as is Jonjo. Though I think Jonjo is mainly feeling guilt. He had no time for him really, did he?’

Mary shook her head sadly and both women were quiet for a few moments. Then, grasping her friend’s hand firmly in both of her own, and hugging it to her chest tightly, she said, sorrowfully, ‘Look, Mary, I can’t help being worried about you. They said you had passed out in the bath. Are you all right? Do they know what caused it?’

Mary extricated herself as gently as she could from her friend’s embrace without causing offence and, shrugging lightly, she held out her hands in a gesture of supplication.

‘No, Carole, they say it’s just another one of those things. No real reason for it and, with my previous miscarriage, I don’t think they even really look for a reason. And, let’s face it, there’s far too much going on to dwell on the loss of another baby. If I think about it too much it will break my heart all over again.’

Carole nodded almost imperceptibly before whispering, ‘Will you be all right, Mary?’

The question was loaded and they both knew it; this was the first time Carole had ever hinted at her problem. Mary saw her chance and took it, grabbed at it with both hands. Relying on Carole’s innate sense of fair play. ‘Could you do me a favour, Carole? Bring me in a bottle of vodka? I need something to take the edge off all that’s happened. They keep trying to make me take antidepressants, but I don’t want to get hooked on pills. I just need to sleep, that’s all, and a few drinks might be the answer.’

Carole felt that her friend drank far too much as it was, but she was also aware of the extreme circumstances that caused her to. Not being a drinker herself, she saw no harm in agreeing to do as she was asked. She was only trying to help.

‘Thanks, Carole. I appreciate it.’

Thrilled with how easy it had been to get her friend on board Mary forced her face into a tragic mask before saying, ‘Keep this quiet though, Carole. I don’t want anyone knowing how depressed I am. Danny Boy has enough on his plate as it is, without worrying about me.’

Carole nodded, but she wasn’t entirely sure she was doing the right thing by agreeing to this. She knew that Mary drank far too much as it was. But then she also knew she had a lot on her plate. Danny Boy’s father had left a mess behind him that went deeper than the blood that seemed to be everywhere and the stunned shock of his family at his actions. Who was she to refuse her friend the solace that a few drinks might bring her? She was so unhappy these days and, even though she didn’t say too much about it, she guessed Danny Boy and Mary were experiencing some marital problems. Michael hinted as much, and she knew he was worried about her as well.

But Michael was overwhelmed with work and she didn’t want to worry him with anything else at the moment. He was already close to crumbling under all the pressure, and she knew he was worried about Danny Boy’s reaction to all that had happened. Danny was under a lot of strain, saw his father’s suicide as a personal affront to him. Michael was taking on the brunt of the businesses and looked tired and strained. She wished there was something she could do to help him in some way.

As she left the hospital, she was surprised to see Danny Boy’s mother, in full church clothes, entering the hospital. She was on her way to see her daughter-in-law and Carole was secretly pleased that she hadn’t noticed her. She really didn’t know what to say to her about what had happened; a natural death was one thing, but for a practising Catholic, a suicide was the worst sin a person could commit. There was no way to console someone because the person concerned had left themselves without any hope.

She hurried home, wondering what exactly she was getting involved with. As much as she loved Michael, she wondered at times if his business interests were a lot more than she could cope with. Once they married she knew that her part in their union would entail her knowing a lot more than would be good for her. She was like Mary, though; she knew she wasn’t marrying an angel and she accepted that, as she also knew her life would be lived with the knowledge that she could lose the man she loved to the criminal courts. She felt a shiver of apprehension at what her life could become. But then she forced the thoughts from her mind, and told herself that being with him was all she was interested in.

 

Michael poured himself a stiff drink and swallowed it, enjoying the burn as it went down into his belly. He needed a livener, and the brandy was hitting the spot. He leaned back in the chair, and surveyed the office around him. The dingy hole that they spent so much time in was looking even shabbier than usual. He knew Danny Boy stayed there sometimes, and that he brought company with him. He wondered how a man with so much money and so much success could still feel more comfortable in these kind of surroundings. He knew Danny cheated on his wife, his sister, but he knew too that was the nature of that particular beast. He knew his sister had known his rep when she married him, in many ways she had gone into the marriage with her eyes open much wider than Danny Boy’s. She was her mother’s daughter, and Michael knew she had married Danny for what he could provide her with, as much as anything else.

And Danny had provided for her, she lived like a queen. She had everything a woman could possibly want. Now she was finding out what it was like to not get everything handed to her on a plate; she couldn’t produce a child for Danny and he knew that was burning him up inside. He saw himself as a man’s man, and he had already fathered a baby by one of his amours. At least, that was the rumour going round anyway. Michael could smell the stale cigarette smoke everywhere, and the sourness of a room used for thirty years without the benefit of a cleaner. He could hear the low growling of the dogs as they roamed the yard and he knew they were the best protection in the world, no one in their right mind would attempt to enter these premises; if anyone even walked near the fence they went into overdrive. He poured himself another drink and, lighting a cigarette, he pulled on it slowly, listening to the sounds of the night outside. The traffic was just a low drone, the rush hour was over and the road would become quieter by the hour. It was amazing really, every time he sat like this it reminded him of just how far they had come over the years. Now he was a rich man, and a respectable man in his own way. He was known as the moneyman of the outfit, and he liked that. Michael enjoyed the way he lived and was determined to make sure he stayed living it large. He was worried about Danny Boy though, he was getting more and more difficult to handle by the day. He took umbrage with everyone he had contact with, found fault, saw slights where there weren’t any. Michael was known as the only person who could talk Danny Boy down; in fact he had been approached a couple of times to act as an intermediary for some of their clients. But this business with Frank was a real worry. Danny hated him; he had taken a dislike that was as outrageous as it was without any kind of foundation. The real problem was that Frank was not someone who could be treated with anything other than the friendliest of smiles and the ultimate of respect. He had a lot of friends in all the right places. Although Danny was, in effect, the Alpha male where the business was concerned, he had sewn up the drugs alone, and no one worked anything of any real note without in some way answering to them. He and Danny Boy were the only Faces who could guarantee people a regular and hefty return on any money they invested. They also paid off most of the Filth in the Smoke, guaranteeing that their merchandise was almost untouchable, earning them the nickname the untouchables. They had two high-ranking Met officers and one who worked closely with the new branch of the Flying Squad, who predominantly dealt with the new breed of men known as supergrasses. Since the seventies this had become an increasingly large problem in the criminal community, causing unrest and distrust among many of the men who had previously been tight. These new grasses were usually small-time Faces who had been captured, fair and square and, thanks to the heavy sentences being doled out by the courts, were more than willing to open their traps up about all and sundry to save their own sorry arses. One sniff of the Old Bailey and they couldn’t open their big mouths quick enough. They were not prepared to go down and do their bird like a man, these people were willing to serve up anyone for a reduced sentence and the chance of parole. It was an abomination as far as everyone was concerned. In fact, Danny Boy’s new-found status was based on the fact that there was no one willing to grass on him; his rep was so entrenched in local folklore that no one was brave enough to ever put his name in the frame for anything. Danny joked that he could shoot the pub up in broad daylight and no one would make a statement against him, such was the fear he instilled in everyone who came into contact with him. His father’s crippling and subsequent suicide just made Danny Boy’s reputation stronger. He had wiped out anyone who stood in his way, and he was still without a stain on his character as far as the law of the land was concerned.

But Michael, as much as he welcomed his friend’s fierce and completely warranted rep, knew, instinctively, that Danny Boy could not get away with this behaviour for ever. Eventually, even he would cross the wrong person, and that was something that Michael was determined to ensure never happened. It was why he was so worried about Danny Boy’s dislike for Frank. Lifelong enemies were made for less in their community, and Frank had the goodwill that Danny Boy should have been courting, not spurning. A good partnership guaranteed each side a little extra protection in their daily war against getting captured, but any bad feeling was a good reason to forget the criminal code: who would go away for someone they didn’t even like? It stood to reason.

When people kept their traps shut, stuck their heads down and did their time, they ensured that their family was more than taken care of. Once they opened their mouths though, they brought a lot of trouble on themselves; hence the need to take as many people out of the game as quickly as possible. The fewer people still left out on the pavement, the less chance of being permanently taken out of the game one dark night by a stranger with a shotgun or a machete. Michael was amazed that Danny Boy didn’t understand just how dangerous his position could be if he made too many enemies. He was still a Face, and he was a Face of repute and good-standing, but that could change in a heartbeat if he didn’t learn to control his anger.