Numb: A Dark Thriller (33 page)

54

The place in which Riley awoke was dark and silent and the air had a metallic smell to it.

After a few minutes his eyes became accustomed to the gloom and even though he was still groggy from the anaesthetic he knew instantly that he was inside McCabe’s lock up. No surprise there then.

Suddenly the overhead florescent lights burst into life and Riley had to jam his eyes shut as he was momentarily blinded. When he opened them again, he could see that he was hanging by his wrists that were handcuffed together. McCabe had also stripped him naked. His bare feet dangled about a foot off the concrete floor, his ankles having been manacled together and the connecting chain looped around a bolt on the floor, stretching Riley’s body tight and making him unable to move, just like Mark Dainton and half a dozen others before him. There was also plastic sheeting on top of the concrete floor.

That was never a good sign.

“You took your time to come round.” McCabe’s voice came from behind Riley, but he never attempted to turn to see him. “I thought I might have given you too much. You’ve been out for over two hours. I was starting to get worried.”

“I appreciate the concern,” Riley said. He looked up and wriggled his wrists just to see how tight his hands were bound. They were very tightly bound and even though he hadn’t struggled that much, the metal had cut into his skin and drew blood in several places. A lot of people would be in agony by now.

He heard McCabe’s breathing from behind him. Then he felt the prod of a finger on his back.

“Nice scars,” McCabe said. “Quite a patchwork. What are they – skin grafts? Was it a fire or something?”

“No,” Riley said.

“Pretty nasty. It looks like you were once in a hell of an accident.”

“Are you offering sympathy?”

McCabe suddenly appeared in front of him. He had a plaster over the bridge of his nose and bruising under both eyes.

“No,” he said. “I’m just nosey.”

“Yeah, how is it by the way?” Riley asked.

“Sore,” McCabe said and smirked. “How’re you feeling?”

“Fresh as a daisy,” Riley replied. He winked for good measure, just to piss McCabe off.

McCabe laughed, pulled up a chair and sat on it backwards, directly in front of Riley. Riley could see his clothes, shoes and wallet neatly placed on the workbench nearby. So was his mobile phone. A
new
mobile phone. Not the one with the footage on it. Riley didn’t want McCabe tossing it into the furnace. His possessions were only a few feet away from him. So were the keys to the handcuffs and manacles. Freedom was so close yet so impossible to reach.

“Sorry about your doctor friend,” McCabe said, “but I knew there was a chance you’d show up there. I figured you’d head back to Thirnbridge to rescue Sandra and thought you might try and use his house as a base.”

Riley suddenly remembered about Carter. God, in his drug-induced sleep he’d thought it had been a nightmare.

“How did you know about him?” he asked.

“The doctor?” McCabe said. “Oh, we’ve known about him for years. Nash had you followed when you first started working for him. He does it to everyone so he knows they can be trusted. This doctor bloke was the only one you ever went to see. It was like he was the only one in the city you socialised with outside of work. That’s why I thought if you were planning on coming back to try to get Sandra then his place would be an obvious place for you to go.”

“And so you had to kill him?” Riley asked through gritted teeth.

“You had to go to him,” McCabe retorted.

“Fuck you!”

McCabe giggled.

“Apart from going to your doctor friend I also assumed you might come here and try to break in,” he said. “I couldn’t guard the place twenty-four-seven and so I thought better of leaving Sandra here overnight.”

“So where is she?”

“Where’re Purvis and the kid?” McCabe quickly countered.

“Don’t know,” Riley said. “I told them to keep out the way. I came back here myself.”

“Why don’t I believe you?”

Riley shrugged.“I guess that’s just the way you are,” he said.

McCabe’s grin stretched into a broad smile. He took off his jacket and hung it on the back of the chair.

“Yeah, I guess it is,” he said as he rolled up his shirt sleeves. “Yeah, you know
exactly
the type of bloke I am, don’t you?”

“You’re a traitor,” Riley said.

McCabe laughed and said, “If that’s what you want to call me, then yes, I’m a traitor. Don’t blame me though, Riley. Blame society. We live in a world where everyone is out for themselves. Banks go into administration and get bailed out by the government but the bankers still get bonuses. MP’s on six figure salaries still fiddle their expenses. D-list celebrities go on reality shows and embarrass themselves in front of millions or sell their wedding photos to a glossy magazine for enough money to heat their swimming pool for a month. Everything’s about money these days, Riley. Everyone wants a piece and I’m no different. I learnt that when I came out of the army.”

“I bet the armed forces really miss a nutcase like you,” Riley told him.

“I’ll have you know that I was a model solider and served my country well,” McCabe replied. “But I soon realised that I wasn’t army material. I had no wife, no kids, no close family, and I certainly didn’t care about my country. So who was I fighting for? Myself, that’s who. After leaving the army I couldn’t get a job. I’d been infantry. Didn’t learn a trade, and so the only work available to me was manual stuff; labouring on building sites or working for a pittance in a factory. But the factories were all closing and the building trade was in a slump. What was more, I saw little jumped-up pricks who stole cars or sold drugs doing better than I was. That was when I snapped, Riley. That was when the green-eyed monster got me.” McCabe smiled and looked up to the ceiling, remembering past times. “There was this one little prick who used to drive around in this big car, his wrists and fingers covered in jewellery, all from selling dope. I saw him one night when I was leaving the pub. I was pissed and in a bad mood. I smashed him about and stole his money and felt great afterwards. Felt I had done something and so decided I’d found the perfect job. I’d sniff out the local criminals – in the east end of London, there’re quite a few – and make my money by stealing from them. The first man I killed was a car thief. I shot him in the head without a second’s thought. That was when I realised that taking the life of someone else meant nothing, Riley. Because, in my world,
I’m
the only one that matters and the only thing that matters to me, is money.”

“Yeah, I can see that,” Riley said. “You don’t care about anyone else do you? Not Michael junior or Knight or Devlin or Atkins. All those people you had killed.”

“In the army we called them ‘collateral damage’,” replied McCabe. “Like that kid last year.”

“Jamie Hudson,” said Riley through gritted teeth.

McCabe shrugged.

“Was that his name? Well, he just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. Same as Michael junior and the others. They weren’t the real targets.”

“I know,” said Riley. “You actually wanted to take out Nash and then Dainton. That was the plan, wasn’t it?”

“Plan?” McCabe asked and let out a chuckle. “Riley, the plan went out the window when those two fuck-ups failed to kill Nash outside the club.”

“
We
meaning you and Rodgers?” Riley asked. “How did that little relationship blossom?”

“We were locked up together.”

“Yeah, I figured that much. So what, you two became friends and decided to get rid of Nash and Dainton and take over from them?”

“Pretty much,” McCabe said. “That’s what I can’t understand, Riley. Why didn’t you tell Nash any of this? If you were so sure I was involved – and you had proof – then why didn’t you sell me out?”

“I’m no grass,” was all Riley could think to say.

“So why were you keeping tabs on me?”

Riley shrugged. Didn’t give an answer.

McCabe stood up. Crossed to the other side of the lock up and wheeled the table holding the tools back to the chair before sitting back down. He picked up the hammer and examined the metal head.

“When me and Rodgers got banged up in the same nick everyone expected carnage,” he said, not looking at Riley. “I was in there for GBH and Rodgers had taken the wrap for a drugs charge and saved Dainton a jail term by not pointing the finger at him. Everyone thought one of us would end up dead but we actually became good mates inside and both realised how fucking stupid we both were – the two of us in prison while Nash and Dainton were on the outside living a life of luxury. After a few months we both realised we were thinking the same thing – that things would be better with both bosses gone. But talk is talk and I guess neither of us ever planned on doing anything about it. Anyway, Dainton promised Rodgers a half a million thank you bonus when he came out but that never materialized. All he got was fifty grand and his job back. I was in the same boat when I got out. Nash was richer and I had lost five years of my life. Eventually I thought fuck it and got in touch with Rodgers and told him I wanted to do what we’d talked about. I didn’t have to convince him that we could both do better without Nash and Dainton. He was well up for it. We just had to decide how to get rid of them both and eventually decided that we had to make it look like one went after the other. Dainton had more reason to do away with Nash and so we arranged the hit outside the club. That would leave us with no option but to go after Dainton and once he was dead a meeting would be called and a truce would be declared. Eventually, the two firms would merge into one.”

“With you and Rodgers in charge?” Riley almost laughed. “And I suppose Dainton’s boys would just go for that?”

“Rodgers said most of Dainton’s men would be up for it,” McCabe said. “The one’s that aren’t will be taken care of.”

“And you’d be able to convince Turner? He’s second man, remember.”

“Turner’s in on it all.”

The words came so fast that Riley had actually opened his mouth to argue the point more. Then he realised what McCabe had just confessed.

“Turner’s behind this as well? He had a hand in the attacks on Nash?”

McCabe nodded as he put the hammer back on the portable table.

“He was just as fed up with Nash as I was,” he said. “Turner’s a business man but has no real say in how the firm is run. Sure, he advises Nash but can’t make any decisions without Nash giving his permission. He thinks that the firm could’ve made a lot more money with him at the helm and therefore the staff better paid. I do too. So anyway we had a few drinks a couple of months back and I happened to mention how pissed off I was with Nash and told him about the stuff me and Rodgers had talked about inside. Turner was well up for it and was actually the one who asked me to contact Rodgers and set everything in motion.”

Riley took a moment to digest what he’d just heard. Then he asked, “So there’s you and Turner and Rodgers planning to take over Thirnbridge but neither Nash or Dainton are out of the picture? Great plan, McCabe. Well done. Good job.”

“Everything’s still in order,” McCabe said. “In fact, you and Purvis have helped us out a lot. You’ve given us the perfect opportunity to succeed.”

“How the fuck’s that?”

Before McCabe could answer there was a series of knocks on the front door of the unit.

Both men looked in the direction of the door and then back at each other. Then McCabe quickly grabbed some duct tape from the table and slapped a strip across Riley’s mouth.

Riley didn’t struggle. He knew who was out there. Things hadn’t gone to plan and Purvis had called Davison. That was them outside and McCabe was trapped. The unit would be surrounded.

McCabe backed slowly away from Riley as another series of knocks rattled the metal.

“McCabe?” a voice from outside called. Riley recognised the voice as detective Davison’s.

Then his heart sank.

This wasn’t right. If the police had the place surrounded they would’ve used a megaphone or something. Davison knew how dangerous McCabe was and wouldn’t take a chance at having him open the door.

Or would she?

Oh shit. She seemed the sort of person who would try and take the glory for herself. What if she hadn’t even told anyone else about the tip off Purvis had given her? What if she’d come here alone?

As McCabe pressed his back against the door and pulled the Berretta from his pocket, Riley suddenly began to struggle with the cuffs around his wrist. Flesh was torn and more blood flowed as he twisted and squirmed and even tugged down hard to try and snap the cuffs against the chain they were wrapped around. He tried to call out a warning but it was useless with the tape across his mouth. All it did was make him catch his breath and cause him to cough.

“McCabe!” Davison called again.

“Who is it?” McCabe asked.

“Police, open up!”

McCabe winked at Riley and reached for the latch on the door.

Riley struggled more but it was no use. Davison was walking into a trap and there was nothing he could do to warn her. She would be killed. Then
he
would be killed. Then Sandra - wherever the hell she was.