Only the Brave (9 page)

Nick paused with a hand on the roof of his car. ‘I think Jordan Johnson was put in there to keep an eye on Kirstie and maybe when it all went sour, Ryan was moved in, too.’

Allie nodded in agreement. ‘Although it does seem a weird choice, given his age.’

‘That’s Terry Ryder for you. I’m sure he’ll have some strange reason for it. And remember what you said to me the last time we had to deliver bad news?’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘How do you feel about this visit?’

‘I feel exactly the same.’ Allie sighed. ‘They’re crocodile tears, aren’t they?’

As soon as the police had left, Ryan raced back through to the
living
room.

‘What the hell was all that?’ he seethed. ‘Don’t you think you laid the sarcasm on a bit thick?’

‘That woman ruined my family!’ Kirstie stood with folded arms. ‘I do not fucking want her in this house again!’

‘Watch your language.’

‘Oh, so now you think you’re my father as well as my lover?’

‘No, but I might slap your legs just the same.’

Kirstie flinched but stayed where she was as he stepped closer. ‘You wanted me to throw them off the scent, didn’t you?’

‘With a bit of believability, yes. Not by playing stupid games. They could see right through that. You sounded suspicious.’

‘I don’t know how I could because I didn’t have anything to do with his death. And you’re supposed to be grieving – I didn’t see much of that.’

Ryan clenched his hands into fists. ‘Just because I’m not bursting into tears every five minutes doesn’t mean I’m not grieving. I’m just trying to get us out of this mess in one piece. I do things at my own pace, Kirstie, you know that, and that includes taking revenge on the bastard who did this to my brother.’

Kirstie relented. ‘We’ll be off the radar in no time. The police will be clueless as to what really happened.’

Ryan shook his head. ‘But even we don’t know what happened! Nothing should have gone wrong.’

Kirstie walked slowly towards him and cupped his face in her hands. ‘I know you’ll miss him; so will I. But he was in the way, you have to admit. And once this is all sorted we can get on with
our
life together. You and me – just think how powerful we’ll be.’

Ryan smirked. ‘You are one shrewd bitch.’

‘I’ll take that as a compliment, Mr Johnson. The detail is always in the small things – the surname Ryder give it away to you?’

‘You really think you’re untouchable, don’t you?’

She clasped her hands together around the back of his neck and licked her lip in anticipation. ‘Oh, I’m definitely touchable, as you well know.’

He released her hands, pushing her to one side. ‘My brother is dead and I want to know who the hell killed him.’

‘Don’t go overboard with the family thing,’ Kirstie huffed, folding her arms. ‘You were happy enough to put him in a hospital bed.’

Ryan shook his head in exasperation. ‘You might think that you’re indispensable because you’re a Ryder, but look at you now, alone in this big house. Someone needs to look after you or else who knows what could happen to you . . .’

‘Oh, grow up, Ryan. You can’t threaten me.’

He grabbed her arm as she tried to push past him. ‘Really, Kirstie,’ he warned, ‘don’t fuck with me. I’m nowhere near as nice as my little brother.’

Ryan tried to contain his temper as he stormed into the
garden
to the mini-gym he and Jordan had installed the previous
summer
. He began to lift some weights, trying to get rid of his
aggression. I
t would be much better than cracking Kirstie one, despite his
yearning
to punch away that smug grin from her face. She was still such a child at times. But at least she hadn’t guessed the exact reason why he was here.

Jordan moving in with Kirstie had been Ryder’s idea but it couldn’t have worked out better for Ryan. When Terry had gone to jail, he’d asked Ryan to step in to look after a couple of branches of Car Wash City. But it hadn’t been enough. He’d wanted to be more in the know, find out how Ryder made his money. Eventually, he’d come up with a plan to wheedle his way into the house, maybe get Kirstie on side. So far that had led to nothing. Ryder obviously kept his cards close to his chest, not even trusting his daughter with much of his business.

Still, he’d had some great sex. It hadn’t taken long to get Kirstie into his bed. It had been fun to feel young legs wrapped around him, see firm breasts hanging down as she’d straddled him, feel ribs and hips instead of rolls of fat, see smooth lines instead of wrinkles. Like her mother by all accounts, Kirstie was a goer and her appetite for sex made up for the obligatory once-a-fortnight missionary position he’d got, if he was lucky, after being married to Nicole for so long. Not that he’d ever gone without in between, but that was nothing to do with anyone.

Yet, even though he was still in shock over his brother’s death, Kirstie was right. There was no love lost between him and Jordan. And now that his brother had gone, it seemed he might possibly be in a better place. He could even take over things from
Jordan
. By the time Terry got wind of anything going wrong, it would be too late. He couldn’t do much while he was locked up, especially now that Steve Burgess was on side with Ryan. Two powerful men against Ryder. Terry might think he was in control but he was
running
out of enemies on the outside who would keep his empi
re going.

What he needed to do now was to keep Kirstie sweet – no matter how hard it would be to hear her constant whinging and complaining and keep up with her insatiable appetite for sex. But first he needed to find out who had killed his brother and get the missing money back. And he knew just where to start.

Kirstie slumped on the settee, trying to take it all in. Ryan was an aggressive bastard, but she wasn’t going to let him intimidate her. She’d been through too much over the last few years to let that happen. Three years ago, Kirstie had had to grow up fast. Although there was no love lost between her and Steph, Kirstie had always looked towards her late mother for money. Finding herself alone a few weeks later when her father had been remanded in prison for the murder of several people, she had gone into a mad panic.

She’d been slightly crazy, she thought now. She’d even fallen out with her best friend Ashleigh, for no good reason. Alone in this big house with no real friends, just people looking to take
advantage
of a Ryder. There had been a few wild parties, the police being called out to their tiny respectable avenue of individually designed houses on numerous occasions, until she had been
summoned
to see her father. Terry had told her in no uncertain terms that if she didn’t grow up and stop making him look like an idiot, he would cut her off and she would be out on her ass. And then he’d dropped the bombshell that he was putting in someone to look after her. No matter how she had protested, it hadn’t made a scrap of difference.

Three days later, Jordan had knocked on the door.

She’d been bowled over by him in the beginning. Jordan had been twenty-eight then, and everything she might want in a man if he hadn’t been shoehorned in to look after her. He kept himself fit too, something that she loved. A toned and firm body to tempt her. She’d been horny from the moment she saw him. She’d thought it would be one of her father’s old cronies – her money had been on Steve Burgess. But he had a wife and children and although he was there to help her out regardless, he had a family home to run. But Jordan wasn’t married. He had a child with another woman but the relationship between them had fizzled out way before he’d come to live with her.

It hadn’t taken long before they’d started sleeping together, but they’d argued almost immediately and eventually they’d agreed to see other people discreetly, although to the outside world they would be a loving couple so that Terry wouldn’t get mad that the
y w
ere not getting along as planned. Both of them wanted to keep him happy. Jordan had moved out of her bed and into a spa
re room.

When Ryan had turned up on the doorstep a few months ago, the story that he’d fallen out with his wife and needed somewhere to stay for a while had fallen flat with Kirstie. She wasn’t stupid, knew it was her father interfering.

Eventually she’d realised the advantages of having the older brother onside, so she’d made it a goal to seduce Ryan, too. It had taken her a bit longer than with Jordan, but after a month, she had had him. And he wasn’t bad either.

But, still, at least she had an alibi for where she was when
Jordan
was murdered. And that was all she wanted Ryan for. All she needed to do now was keep him sweet until this was all over and then she would be on her own again.

12.00 P.M.

Time was ticking on and Craig was no closer to finding the money. He’d rung a few contacts but no one knew anything about
Jordan’s
murder, so he decided to look closer to home. Craig went up two flights of stairs and banged on the door of flat 404. The police hadn’t got up to the top floor yet and he was more or less out of view of the woman who was standing guard at the foot of the path leading to the crime scene.

A woman in a well-lived face appeared. She had egg yolk down the front of her grey jumper, an inch of blonde hair at the bottom of a mass of wiry-straw grey hair, and a large mole on her upper lip that Craig remembered from when they had gone to school together. She was the same age as him but looked ten years older. He’d go so far as to say that she had let herself go more than Stella had.

‘Your boys in, Sand?’

Sandra Granger didn’t bother to open the door further, just turned and walked back the way she had come. He stepped into the hallway. Stale cigarette smoke, body odour and something he couldn’t quite put his finger on but didn’t want to think too much about stung his eyes. He blinked profusely.

He followed her into a living room, stark and grubby, the
curtains
still closed even though it was nearing midday, the
television
showing
one of the home makeover shows that seemed always to be on a loop. A coffee table sat in the middle of a chequered red and white rug, stacked with mugs, plates and an
overfilled
ashtray.

A young lad lay on the sofa but he sat up as soon as he saw Craig in the doorway. In his late teens, he was thin to the point of being gangly, as if he hadn’t grown into his body yet. His hair was shaved quite close to his head, his skin covered in spots. On the right side of his neck, he had a tattoo of the Staffordshire knot. He wore a black tracksuit.

‘Jacob?’

‘I might be.’

Craig pulled him to his feet and flung him up against the wall. A picture of a kitten and a bull terrier began to wobble but hung on to its hook for dear life. The coffee table upended, the contents of the ashtray spewing over the carpet.

‘Hey, be careful!’ Sandra complained. ‘I’m the one who’ll have to clean it all up afterwards.’ She flounced off into the kitchen, slamming the door behind her.

‘Do you want to tell me what happened last night?’ Craig’s face was an inch from Jacob’s.

‘I didn’t do anything!’ He pushed at Craig’s hands. ‘I swear.’

‘He’s telling the truth!’ His twin brother, Tommy, appeared in the doorway. ‘I was with him.’

‘I’m warning you. If you had anything –’ Craig drew back his fist.

Tommy grabbed it but Craig shrugged him off.

‘I swear, we had nothing to do with it,’ said Jacob.

Craig loosened his grip on Jacob, his eyes flitting from one to the other. It was a really strange experience, making him feel a little giddy. Tommy and Jacob were identical twins. They’d even had the same tattoo inked in the same place so that no one could tell them apart.

‘Where did you go last night?’ Craig kept his eyes on Jacob.

‘We walked in to Burslem – to The Leopard for a few pints,’ said Tommy. ‘Then we went for a kebab before piling in our mate’s place off Moorland Road for a couple more drinks.’

‘What time were you back?’

‘About half one, I think?’ Tommy looked to his brother for
confirmation
.

Jacob nodded, still looking at Craig.

Craig looked from one to the other again. He didn’t trust Jacob at all but decided to use the opportunity to get a bit more
information
from him. He dropped his guard.

‘Do either of you want to earn some cash?’ he asked them.

‘Doing what?’ asked Jacob.

‘Someone in these flats knows something. I need a pair of eyes and ears.’

‘Not me.’ Tommy held up his hands. ‘I’m in enough trouble with my lady already. If I end up inside again, she’ll swing for me.’

Jacob was quiet for a moment. Then, ‘How much?’

‘Fifty quid.’

‘That’s less than minimum wage,’ he protested.

‘Take it or leave it.’ Craig shrugged.

‘Seventy-five sounds better to me.’

‘Don’t push your luck.’

‘Okay.’ Jacob grinned.

Craig pushed him towards the door. ‘If you see anything, come and give me the information as you get it.’

‘Wait!’ Jacob shouted after him. ‘What time do you want me here until?’

‘All day and night if necessary.’

‘But . . . When will I get paid?’

Craig raised a hand. ‘Don’t worry about that. You just find out what you can.’

As soon as Craig had disappeared out of sight, Jacob went out onto the walkway. He lit a cigarette and took a puff, waited for the hit to get him and sighed as he blew out the smoke.

He glanced at the media van that was parked in the background next to a Ford Fiesta with the local BBC radio motif across its door. A cluster of people were chatting, holding mugs of tea that had been brought out on a tray by some woman. A camera had been set up on a tripod by their side.

He wondered if it would be better to go downstairs and sniff things out in the heart of the action, but then again he could see everything from here. He didn’t have to hear everything to get his cash. Craig couldn’t have it both ways – or else he’d have to pay him double.

Tommy came out to join him a few minutes later. ‘Do you know who it is?’

Jacob nodded, watched his brother’s face lose its colour.

‘Yeah,’ he said. ‘It’s Jordan Johnson.’

‘Fuck, no way!’ Tommy gasped. Then his eyes narrowed. ‘How the hell do you know?’

‘It’s not what you think. I heard someone say downstairs.’

‘You’ve been out first thing?’ Tommy’s tone was dubious.

‘Yeah, went to fetch some cigs. I ran out last night.’ Jacob rested his chin on his arms, watching what was going on below. ‘Someone is looking sick when they find out who did it.’

‘I don’t think anyone round here has the bottle. Do you?’

‘Naw. It’ll be someone come from outside. It’ll be a setup or something.’

‘You mean a hit?’

Jacob nodded.

‘Shit.’ Tommy ran a hand over his chin. ‘Are you sure he won’t think we had anything to do with it?’

Jacob shook his head. ‘Why would he?’

‘Oh, maybe the fact that I didn’t go out with you last night, so I was lying.’

Jacob grinned. ‘Yeah, cheers for covering for me.’

‘Landing myself in the shit, more like it.’ Tommy looked down onto the ground for a moment too. ‘So where were you?’

‘Stayed over at Diane’s.’

‘Yeah, right.’

‘I was – you can ask her. Where were you?’

‘Over at Kayleigh’s.’

‘Cool. At least I know.’

‘How about Flynn’s? Have you been there lately?’

Jacob looked sheepish. ‘I was thrown out of there last week.’

‘For fuck’s sake.’ Tommy sighed. ‘What for this time?’

‘Someone knocked their pint over me and wouldn’t say sorry. So I lamped him one.’

Tommy shook his head in disbelief.

‘I was tanked up! Bouncers threw me out. I told one of them that I’d have him if I saw him on his own too. And I would. He thinks he’s hard but he’s an old-timer. I could take him do
wn easy.’

‘What if they have it on camera or something? The police are bound to check out all CCTV there. When exactly was it last week?’

‘Last Saturday night. But they won’t link it to this, will they?’

‘I don’t know how far they’ll look back!’

‘I was drunk!’

‘You were fucking stupid.’

They were quiet for a moment.

‘It will blow over,’ Jacob tried to reassure his brother.

‘What if the bouncer grasses you up when they find out where Jordan was murdered?’

‘Why would he do that? It’s nothing to do with what’s going on down there.’ He pointed to the ground. ‘Besides, they probably won’t remember me. They must be knocking back punches all the time in their job.’

‘They might!’ Tommy prodded him in the chest. ‘Have you any idea what will happen to you – to us – if Ryan Johnson does think you’re involved? He’ll be after your fucking blood.’

‘I’m telling the truth!’

‘Yeah.’ Tommy wouldn’t meet his eye. ‘Look, we just need to get our story straight, that’s all.’

‘But I didn’t do anything.’ Jacob stared at his brother. ‘We have to look out for each other, bro. You’re either with me or I’ll do this on my own.’

Steve didn’t know how he’d managed to keep his temper under control when he’d first seen Craig that morning. He’d wanted to rip out his eyes for losing some of the money. But he had a bigger problem on his hands now that Jordan was dead. He needed to figure out a way of keeping the truth from the police.

If everyone kept their mouth shut, things would be fine, but he knew only too well that the more people were involved, the more risky the operation would be, and the harder it would be for
everyone
to keep quiet. Unless he was a good actor, Craig didn’t seem to know anything about there being less money. But Steve knew him from old and he wasn’t going to trust him. If Craig was fearful of what could happen, he might do a runner before even attempting to locate the money. He had to take a chance.

More importantly, though, he needed to figure out for himself who was likely to have their money. He had to have it back in his hands by the end of the day. He didn’t want to disappoint Terry now, not after all this time waiting for a chance to prove that he was trustworthy.

His phone went. ‘Yes?’ he barked down it.

‘Mr Burgess. My name is DS Shenton from Staffordshire Police.’

Steve sat up straight in his chair. ‘What can I do for you,
Sergeant
?’ he asked.

‘I’m at a crime scene at the moment and wondered if there was anyone I could talk to at Flynn’s.’

‘Crime scene?’

‘There’s been a suspicious death this morning. We believe the victim was at the club last night.’

‘Oh, right. I see.’ Steve played ignorant. ‘I could meet you there in, say, an hour, if I leave now?’

‘That would be great. Thanks.’

Steve disconnected the call and grabbed his jacket. He made his way across the city from Longton to Hanley, parked his car and unlocked the doors to Flynn’s. After a quick look around to see whether any staff had come in early, he went upstairs to his office and closed the door. Sitting down at his desk, he pressed play on the cameras. He wanted to check what was on the camera
footage
, see exactly what it showed on the screen. See if he needed to bury anything before the police turned up or whether he was home and dry.

He’d been lying when he’d told Craig that the machine wasn’t working but he wasn’t going to let on why.