Rapture Falls (3 page)

             
As
far as
Baine
was concerned
he had no feelings for the man
or his business one way or the other, however
someone
considered one of the
many
skeletons
in Sinclair’
s closet
a black building block that they were not able to allow to stand.
Baine
had been walking in Sinclair’s shadow for over four months now, trailing the man
’
s habits, associates and regular routes looking for gap. Sinclair was a reasonably cautious man, used to protecting himself from rivals and the aut
horities, but time and his movement
into legitimacy had dulled his edge and lulled his senses
, it was into this grey area that
Baine
walked into.

The car slowed to a halt
and
rose
on its suspension
as the men shifted their weight and departed the vehicle, in the dark
Baine
cleared his mind and set his body. The car boot lid slowly opened,
Baine
felt the men’s apprehension and nervousness,
and a
ghost of a smile momentarily passed his lips looking strange and misplaced on his hard set face. The dim light from a nearby streetlamp filtered through the night, illuminating
Baine
’s prone form, his obviously broken arm seemed to reassure his captors raising their spirits and pus
h
ing back
their inexplicable fear of the
smaller fallen man. Two of the large
barrel-chested
thugs pulled
Baine
from the car whilst the third glanced around the deserted street, he allowe
d himself to slump and stagger relying on his captors for support.
Baine
surveyed his su
rroundings as they headed for
the rear entrance of a large seemingly derelict factory building, the street was empty and isolated, the lack of potential witnesses pleased
Baine
as they went inside.

“
Mr.
Baine
” a large voice boomed from behind a ratty looking desk, all Sinclair was missing mused
Baine
was a silky white cat to stroke, he fought hard to suppress the laugh bubbling in his throat,
he
still had to maintain the part of the
incapacitated and
subdued. The third thug had stayed outside, guarding the door,
Baine
’s arms were clamped either side by thugs one and two, the broken arm pain had subsided.

“Tell me son, did you think that I wouldn’t see you skulking in my shadow?”, Sinclair
stood and moved around the desk, he pulled himself to his five foot four frame,
Baine
did not need to see the man’s shoes in the dark gloom to know that he wore lifts, he carried himself with the anger and bitterness of all short men. Sinclair was stocky with a now softening build of weightlifter too old to uphold his once proud physique, he wore an expensively tailored blue pinstriped suit
accessorised
with flashy jewelry designed to scream that he no longer belonged in the council house gutter he once crawled out of.

“You’d better answer me you prick”, Sinclair now stood full bore in
Baine
’s face, the lack of response and more likely the la
ck of obvious fear from the captive
man was beginnin
g to infuriate Sinclair who lived his life
surrounde
d by sycophants
.
Baine
’s stooped position brought him face to face with Sinclair who grabbed a handful of hair and painfully yanked
Baine
’s head back, spittle spraying wildly from his now feral mouth,

“Did you believe that you could get close to me, did you think that I wouldn’t see an
amateur
like you coming, did you think that I couldn’t snatch you up any time that I saw fit
, did you honestly believe that it wouldn’t end like this, in an empty room, face to face, with no-one to hear the screams?”

Baine
lifted his head and
looked Sinclair square in the eyes
for the first time
,
his reply was low and ice
“
Actually,
I was counting on it”
.

             
Tony Beck sat in a parked Astra overlooking Cardiff Bay, the cold grey water called imploringly to him, patience he thought, just a little while longer. Tony’s life had ended around five months ago when he had stood in a police morgue identifying his nineteen year old
daughter Amy,
dead and bloated
lying prone on a wintry metallic table. He had buried his wife two years ago devoured from the inside by a ravenous cancer, his daughter had been
his only life ever since and now she too was gone, taken by another cancer, Jon Sinclair. Amy had been the warmest, brightest person Tony had ever known, she had been studying to be a nurse, determined to emulate the care and invaluable help and support that she had
received
during her mothers illness. To make ends meet during her studies Amy had taken a part time job in one of
Cardiff
’s small private clubs as a barmaid, unbeknownst to Amy or her father it was one of Jon Sinclair’s clubs. Being an attractive young woman Amy found herself increasingly uncomfortable at the ever growing attention of some of the clubs
clientele
who soon made it abundantly clear that they expected a
personal
service above and beyond the serving of drinks.
Amy had told her father who demanded that she never return,
unfortunately
Amy had been raised correctly and felt the need to work out her notice and leave the job properly whilst informing the clubs owner precisely what she thought of the practices being carried out under his roof.
Her naked body had been fished out of the cities river four days later, the police confirmed that she had been raped and strangled, the subsequent investigation turned over no suspects, the club’s manager protested that Amy had never turned up for work.

Tony had tried to push the police to go after the clubs owner but had been taken aside by
an
older
detective who filled him in on the life and times of one Jon Sinclair. He was warned in no uncertain terms what could happen to him if he continued to make waves and as to the amount of police officers that supplemented their income by working as “Security Consultants” for Sinclair Enterprises. The detective
looked worn and damaged, with
a faced scared by the strain and troubles of the job. H
e handed Tony a small white business card with
just
one word
printed on it, “
Baine
”
above a mobile phone number.

Tony had sold everything he owne
d and the proceeds now sat in a
small black leather carry case on the back seat of the Astra. Tony breath caught in his
throat as
the small mobile phone sat on the car’s dashboard gently vibrated. His hand hovered above the phone closing his eyes and pausing briefly before he answered.

“Hello,
Baine
?” Tony asked nervously.

“It’s done”
answered
the calm steady tone.

Tony slumped forward, the last five months anguish loosened
its
grip from around his heart ever so slightly.

“As I
requested?” Tony kept his eyes closed as he tried to picture Sinclair on his knees begging for his life.

“
Exactly
” came the reply, “Money?”

“Where you told me to leave it”

“Make sure that you’re long gone”
Baine
’s voice demanded.

Tony looked up and out into
the misty dawn breaking over the river,
                     “
Don’t worry, I will be”.

Tony pressed the end call button on the mobile, he opened the car door and stepped out into the light drizzle, he walked t
all to the rivers metal barrier,
climbed over and plunged
headfirst
into the
welcoming embrace of the dark
water.

             
Baine had collected the money from the parked Astra at the dockside, the winter sun, such as it was, struggled to heave itself over the horizon, its weak rays defeated by the cloudy gloom pervaded over the Welsh capital. Baine quietly cursed Beck for leaving the car unlocked where any early rising scumbag could have spotted the temptation of an open car regardless of the ridiculously early hour.
He pulled out of the small car park and began
nursing his
black
Nissan Micra through the riverside area, the car was six years old, not too new and not too old, mechanically reliable but most importantly neither noticeable nor memorable. The car was a perfect complement to Baine’s persona; he was
the very definition of
inconspicuous, the very embodiment of average. For the business he was in it was imperative to never be noticed or remembered, when meeting new clients he was always amused by their preconceptions. They always expected a Brad Pitt look-alike with a Vin Diesel build, dressed in a cool black suit and wearing wraparound shades. When Baine turned up standing around five eleven with a slight paunch wearing a Marks and Spencer suit looking like every other Build
ing Society clerk
he could feel their disappointment. What they always failed to realize is that tall, attractive, muscular, well dressed men were noted
by everyone
in every environment, Baine was not.