Numb: A Dark Thriller (29 page)

45

He wasn’t surprised that Turner and McCabe were in Nash’s apartment when he and Howden arrived. The brains and the brawn would be needed.

Or the brains and the traitor, as all the evidence pointed to.

“Sit down, boys,” Nash told them and Riley and Howden did so, side by side on the cream sofa.

Nash was dressed in a white bathrobe but still wore his jewellery. He was cleanly shaven and smelled of aftershave and looked unsteady on his feet. He reeked of booze. Behind him, the bedroom door was ajar and Riley could see that the television was on and that someone was asleep under the covers on the master bed. A slender tanned leg hung out and a shock of blonde hair dangled down from one side like Repunzel in the tower. Whoever she was looked no older than twenty.

“So what’s the full story boss?” Howden asked. “All Turner told me is that you’ve heard where Riley and Sandra are.”

Nash walked to the fireplace. Used a twenty to snort a thick line of coke that was already laid out. When he looked up, his eyes were wild. No tiger whatsoever. Just madness.

“They’re up near Newcastle,” he said. “At some shitty little motel. McCabe has the address.”

“How did you find them?” Riley asked, trying to play it cool.

“Some Russian fucker who specialises in fake IDs followed them and called me an hour ago.” He smiled. Rubbed some coke on his gums. “Purvis contacted him about some passports. He heard I was looking for them and got in touch.”

“And he’s sure it’s them?” Riley asked, hoping the exact opposite.

“Positive. That’s why you three are going to bring him in.” He pointed at Riley, McCabe and Howden. This was a personal matter and so only the high-up members would be needed. Turner was second man and so this would be as close to the dirty work he’d get. Plus, he was too important to risk now that Nash was incapable of thinking straight. He would be needed to oversee things as Nash drank and snorted more poison and lost even more of what little mind he had left.

Nash pulled out a wad of notes from the pouch pocket at the front of his bath robe and tossed it at McCabe as if it was monopoly money. “That’s for the contact. Bodowski, or something. He’s waiting at the motel for you. If it’s Purvis and Sandra, he’s earned it. Plus if you get them back here alive there’ll be a nice little bonus for each of you at the end of the month.”

McCabe and Howden nodded.

Riley didn’t.

He had to tell Nash about McCabe right now. Fuck telling Davison. Show Nash the evidence and take his mind of Purvis and let him deal with the traitor.

But will he listen? Will he believe his eyes? Even if he does will it stop him going after Purvis and the girls?
Would showing him that McCabe killed his son save Wendy?

Riley guessed not. He’d still find Purvis one day.

“What about Dainton?” he asked, trying to push Nash in a different and more urgent direction. “It’s Friday night. What if he’s got something planned. He’s already hit Spillers tonight. Have you heard about the damage?”

“Yeah, but fuck him, this is more important,” Nash said, as if the thought of one of his bars getting trashed was nothing. “I can’t let the trail go cold on Purvis. Anyway, even if Dainton’s boys are stupid enough to kick off again tonight we’ve got enough men to sort his lot out. Right?”

Riley felt he had to nod in agreement. There were still enough doormen at each venue to keep control if something big started in one of them.

“How do you want us to do this?” McCabe asked.

“Bring them back alive, if you can,” Nash said, smirking. “I want to deal with them personally. Especially Purvis.”

“Right, let’s go,” Howden said, standing. “We can be there within the hour if the traffic’s good. Catch them while they sleep.”

McCabe followed Howden to the door, both of them walking like drones, unwilling or unthinking to ask the all important question.

That was left to Riley.

“Purvis and Sandra,” he said. “I can understand how you feel about them after what they did to you.”

“Yeah?” Nash said. “So you’re not gonna try and talk me out of this, are you?”

“No, it would be a waste of breath.”

“Exactly.”

“What I was going to ask was, what about Wendy?”

McCabe and Howden stopped and turned around. It looked liked the fact a two year old child was involved in this had suddenly just dawned on them.

Riley saw Turner put his head down and rub his brow, as if he were - dare he think it - ashamed?

“What about Wendy?” Nash asked.

“She’s only a little girl,” Riley said. “She’s done nothing wrong.”

Nash laughed. The sound was pure evil.

“She’s no concern of mine anymore.”

“But for all she knows, you’re her father,” Riley said.

“But
I
know she’s not my daughter.” He stared at Riley with those crazy eyes. He had no heart. He had no soul. The Mike Nash who had built an empire through terror and violence but had managed to stay sane enough to avoid prison had left the building. “Go on. Like Howden said, you can be there within the hour if the traffic’s good.”

Riley knew there was no point in asking Nash to make it clear what he wanted doing with Wendy. The fact that McCabe and Howden were walking out the door showed that they understood just fine.

As Riley followed them out, Nash called out a brutal reminder.

“Try not to kill them. I want them alive.”

46

They were on the motorway twenty minutes later, Riley driving and McCabe in the passenger seat. Howden was in the back, filling the space with smoke and bullshit.

Riley had had no option but to go along. He was stuck between a rock and a hard place with no way out. Problem one was that Purvis had changed his phone and Riley couldn’t call ahead to warn him. Problem two was that he hadn’t been able to talk Nash out of this. His mind had been made up and Purvis and Sandra were going to pay – poor Wendy too. Problem three was that he couldn’t talk McCabe or Howden out of this either. McCabe was a traitor but like all good traitors he had to blend in and act natural, and Howden was just a drone who followed orders no matter what they were. Riley also knew that if he’d tried to stop them back at Nash’s apartment he probably would’ve been overpowered. One on one he was sure he could take each of them, but together... no, not a chance. Howden was strong. McCabe was dangerous and probably armed. Nash was insane. Together they would have killed him and still gone after Purvis anyway.

In the end he decided that all he could do was wait and see what would happen when they arrived at the motel. Maybe this was a false alarm. Maybe Purvis and the girls had recently checked out and they would miss them by only an hour or so. Plus, there hadn’t been a formal sighting of them. No photo had been snapped on a mobile phone and sent to Nash proving that they were here. Yes, this was probably a wild goose chase. They’d been barking up the wrong tree. Counting their chickens before they’d hatched and a number of other ancient sayings used when people thought they were right but were entirely off the mark.

But what if they
are
there?
Riley worried.
What will you do then? What
can
you do?

He turned and looked at McCabe, who in turn was looking back over his shoulder, talking to Howden. Neither of them looked concerned about what lay ahead. In fact, they seemed quite relaxed, as if all of this was nothing. They’d been chatting non stop since they’d set off but Riley hadn’t heard a word they’d said. He’d been too busy thinking. Too busy worrying. Too busy trying to come up with a plan.

Then Howden asked, “What do you think, Riley?”

“What?” Riley said. He’d only heard his name being said. Nothing more.

“Do you agree?” said Howden.

“With what?”

“This,” Howden said in-between puffs of smoke. “All the shit going on and Nash sends us seventy miles up the road to sort out a personal grievance.”

Riley had been wrong. Obviously Howden wasn’t as comfortable with this little job as he’d thought.

“Can you blame him?” McCabe said. “Would you let someone get away with this if it had of been you?”

As Riley had expected, McCabe seemed fine with everything. This little jaunt mustn’t spoil any of his and Rodger’s plans. Hey, maybe that was it. Maybe something was planned for tonight and McCabe was happy to be out of Thirnbridge while it happened. Maybe he wasn’t eager to take out Purvis and Sandra but just wanted an alibi when Nash got blown away. Yeah, maybe one of them will get a phone call from Turner soon to say that there’s been another shooting or explosion and that Nash had used up his nine lives and had bought the farm and that the three of them better forget about this Purvis nonsense because we have bigger problems back here. Yeah, it was possible. It was also a terrible thing to wish for but beggars couldn’t be choosers.

“I still think Nash has got his priorities wrong,” Howden said. “Still, as long as we get paid I shouldn’t really give a fuck.”

“You holding up, Riley?” McCabe then asked.

“Yeah,” he answered, keeping his eyes on the darkened and soaked road ahead. The road to hell.

“Even though Purvis is your friend?”

Play along
, Riley thought.
There’s nothing else you can do. Just for now, play along...

“He
was
my friend,” he lied. “If he could go behind Nash’s back like that then he can’t be trusted. He could’ve fucked over any one of us – me included.”

“I know I shouldn’t say this but Nash is losing it if you ask me,” Howden said as he tossed his cigarette butt out the window before winding it back up after letting in half a cloud’s worth of rain. “So he got fucked over? Big Deal, sort it later. Getting rid of Dainton and his men should be priority. Getting revenge for Michael and the others who got killed in the explosion should come first.”

McCabe turned back in his seat so he could face the bigger man.

“So what are you saying?” he asked. “You don’t think Nash is running the firm properly?”

“Do you?”

Riley flicked a look at McCabe as he pondered the question.

Yeah
, Riley thought.
What do
you
think of Nash? Why do
you
want to fuck him over?

“I just follow orders,” McCabe said and Riley almost laughed.

McCabe had backbone, he had to give him that!

“But if you had a choice,” Howden asked, “would you sort this now or later?”McCabe seemed to consider the question for a second or two.“I’d do it later,” he then said. “I’d take care of Dainton because that’s the most urgent problem. Once he’s out of the picture then Nash can take his time and focus his efforts on getting even with Purvis. Even if Purvis makes it out of the country there’s always a way to find him. I suppose you’re right, maybe Nash has lost the plot a little.”

“After what’s gone on it’s understandable,” Riley offered, playing devil’s advocate.

“Yeah, but Nash should know that you need to keep your wits about you in this business,” Howden said. “If word gets out about his behaviour people with think him an easy target – and I’m not just talking about Dainton. If we’re not careful we’ll have every minor gang in the city wanting to take Nash out and
we’re
the fuckers who’ll have to fight the war.”

“That’s what we’re paid for,” said McCabe.

“Yeah, but when Nash is using us to sort his personal grievances it’s not the same. If he keeps on running the firm like this he’ll lose the respect of his men.”

“Not me,” McCabe said, without hesitation. “And not Turner. Not you either, eh, Riley?” He nudged Riley on the arm and Riley nodded – which didn’t answer the question either way but seemed good enough for McCabe. “Anyway, this is what we’re all about.
We
run Thirnbridge and if anyone steps out of line they get paid back. It doesn’t matter if it is business or personal. We do what Nash asks us and accept our wages with a smile.”

Howden shrugged.

“Yeah, I shouldn’t complain,” he conceded. “It pays better than an office job.”

The three of them fell silent. Only the growl of the engine and the rain hitting the windscreen could be heard.

McCabe pulled the Berretta pistol from his pocket and stared out the window.

Howden lit up another cigarette.

Riley kept driving.

They would be there in half an hour.

47

When they arrived at the motel, Riley still hoped the info had been wrong, that Purvis and the girls weren’t here but miles away, safe and sound. However, as they pulled into the car park, McCabe pointed out Purvis’s car up ahead and Riley’s hopes evaporated up into the air along with the cigarette smoke escaping from the gap in the back window. Then they spotted the Volvo and the man they assumed was the Russian sitting inside. Riley had no option, no excuses, but to pull up beside it.

McCabe cranked down his window. Anton Bardzecki did the same.

“Are you Mr Nash’s men?”
Meester Nash’s men?

“Yeah, here.” McCabe tossed him the money without thinking twice.

“You not want to check it’s him first?”

“We know it is,” McCabe said. “That’s his car. Which room?”

“That one. Number twelve.” Bardzecki looked at the money and smiled. “It was good doing business with you.”

He started his car, flashed another annoying smile and drove off smoothly.

Riley felt like killing him. The sneaky bastard. Didn’t he have a soul? Didn’t he know what he’d just done? Didn’t he care that a two year old girl was involved in all of this?

“Right, that’s their room there,” McCabe said, nodding in the direction of number twelve. “It looks like the car park continues on the other side of the block. Park around the back. Last thing we want is Purvis looking out the window and seeing your car next to his.”

Riley did so and again wondered what to do. He wasn’t going to let McCabe and Howden take them, obviously, yet he still had no idea how he was going to stop them. Words were no good. Trying to make them see sense would be like trying to convince a staunch vegetarian that meat was okay. No, when the time came it would have to be quick and by surprise, and forceful.

Maybe even deadly.

For the first time since heading out here, Riley assumed he’d seen the last of Thirnbridge, his place of birth. If he helped Purvis and Sandra escape then he couldn’t go back. If he failed, he’d be killed. Simple as that.

Once parked around the back of the block of rooms, McCabe fitted the silencer to the Berretta.

“Remember,” Riley said, eyeing the weapon nervously. “Nash wants them brought back alive.”

“It’s just insurance,” McCabe said, holding up the pistol and smiling. “Don’t worry, I don’t intend to go shooting off in there. I like to work in private. I like to take my time on people, remember? Shooting someone stone-cold dead just doesn’t do it for me.”

“So if you’re not planning on using it then why the silencer?”

“Like I said, just in case. You think Purvis will just let us take them without putting up a fight?” McCabe opened the door and stepped out into the rain. “You sure can handle this? You don’t want to wait in the car?”

“No,” Riley said.

“Okay. Come on. Let’s do this.”

Riley followed McCabe and Howden to the door to number twelve and took comfort in the fact that Nash wanted them alive. That gave them time. It gave
him
time.

To do what though?

They ducked under the window to the room, the overhanging roof protecting them from the rain. Even though there was no light on inside, Purvis could be keeping an all night vigil. It’s what Riley would have done and he hoped his friend was doing the same. Hoped he’d seen them arrive, recognised the Mercedes and had made a break for it when they’d driven round the back. But if they had, they hadn’t taken the car. It was still parked up, and Riley felt that hollow, sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach again and knew his hopes were simply wishful thinking. They were inside, probably fast asleep and oblivious to what was lurking outside their motel room door.

Howden got to his knees in front of the doorknob. The lock was an old fashioned pin-and tumbler lock. Obviously this cheap, piece of shit dump hadn’t upgraded to the electronic card locks that had been commonly in use for the last God-knows how many years. It wasn’t surprising. This place wasn’t a part of some nationwide chain of modern motels offering king sized beds, room service and all the mod-cons. This was a place you stayed when it was late and you were lost. Or you pulled in for the McDonald’s and felt sleepy after your Big Mac and fries and decided no more driving tonight. This was a place a married man brought a prostitute. This was a place where you hid when you were running away from something and you paid for the room in cash and only stayed one night.

McCabe kept watch as Howden silently began to work the lock with a couple of pins he took from his pocket, his old burglar expertise never having left him. Riley knew he’d sort the lock within a minute. It had taken him less than two minutes to pick the lock on DI Thornton’s garage six months ago and start a chain reaction of tragedy that still haunted Riley to this day.

Riley pretended to keep watch but hoped they’d be seen by someone checking in, or someone returning to their room and that they’d have to make a run for it. Then again, it would probably be better if they weren’t seen. If they were, McCabe might use the gun.

God, talk about a no win situation. No matter what way he looked at it, Riley could see no good end to tonight.

He and McCabe looked down as they heard a tiny ‘click’ from the lock. Howden removed his tools, looked up and winked.

McCabe nudged him out of the way and placed a hand on the doorknob. His other hand gripped the gun hidden inside his jacket. He nodded to Howden, who rolled up his sleeves, clenched his fists and rocked his head from side to side, ready to rush into the room.

McCabe then looked at Riley.

Riley took a breath

(what are you gonna do?)

and nodded.

McCabe took that as a sign that he was ready, and before Riley had time to think, before he could react either verbally or physically, the door was flung open and McCabe and Howden were inside.

The room suddenly lit up as one of them found the light switch and Riley hoped one last time that they’d gotten the wrong room, that it was someone else in there, or that it was empty, and that the three of them would exchange confused glances and then shrug and leave and wonder what to do next.

But when he heard the scream inside, all hope was gone.