The Book of Revenge (9 page)

‘Tomorrow then?’ he asked, hope restored.

‘Maybe.’ She said, before she walked away.

Matt watched her go and then made his way to the pub. He finished his second pint and knew that if he didn’t stop drinking right then, he wouldn’t stop until he was unconscious. While he was pondering his very limited options, Andrew and Kevin entered the pub. They were already well past the stopping point, especially Andrew, who needed Kevin to support him.

Matt put his glass down and left.

Liz and Sam were on the Wii. Sam jumped up when the doorbell rang. ‘It’ll be Craig, he said he’d try and come over tonight.’

While Sam went to answer the door, Liz continued to play.

The door to the lounge was pushed open. ‘Come for a thrashing.’ She said, without pausing in her actions. It was a shooting game and she knew she could beat her daughter’s young boyfriend.

But it wasn’t Craig.

‘I’m impressed.’ Matt said from behind her.

Liz dropped the controller and span around in surprise.

Sam looked between her mother and Matt, a speculative gleam in her eyes.

Matt walked into the room and picked up the dropped controller, handing it to her. ‘You’re good at that.’

Liz shrugged her shoulders casually.

‘I’ll make some tea shall I?’ Sam said.

Liz stood up quickly. ‘He’s not stopping.’

‘Milk, two sugars. Thanks.’ Matt said, grinning at Sam, who smiled back, clearly intrigued. With a quick searching glance at her mother she left the room.

‘What are you doing here?’ Liz demanded, wondering why despite being annoyed there was a tiny rebellious spark of pleasure at seeing him.

Matt reached out and took her hand. ‘I couldn’t wait until tomorrow.’

Liz snatched her hand away. ‘Learn some patience. And how did you find me?’

Matt looked a bit guilty. ‘I looked your file up.’

‘That’s confidential!’ she snapped, outraged and just a tiny bit flattered.

‘I needed to see you,’ he said, taking her hand again.

She didn’t snatch it away immediately even though she knew she should. She didn’t want him in her house. He looked down at her; he looked deeply, searchingly into her eyes. He bent his head and kissed her gently. Fleetingly she let herself savour the moment, enjoy the feel of his lips on hers, but then she pulled back.

‘Why do I feel like we’ve met before?’ he said.

Liz withdrew her hand and stepped right back away from him. She moved to the other side of the room and sat down. ‘Because you like clichés?’

He laughed.

Sam returned with the tea. She placed the tray on the coffee table and then sat down on the sofa. She patted a place beside her for Matt to sit down.

With a quick mocking grin at Liz he settled down beside her daughter.

‘So what do you do? And how do you know my mum?’

Andrew was drunk. Way beyond drunk, he was seriously pissed. He staggered out of the pub, his foot caught on the step and he would have fallen if Kevin hadn’t grabbed him. ‘Thanks, mate.’ He slurred.

A couple of young girls walked past. He leered and winked. They laughed at him and kept walking. ‘Slags,’ he called after them.

Kevin took his arm and led him in the opposite direction. ‘How’s your girl?’ Kevin asked.

Andrew frowned at the thought of her. ‘Useless bitch, just like her mother was.’

‘Not seen her for a while’ Kevin said casually, ‘she must be what? Twelve?’

‘Nearly fourteen,’ Andrew said before dropping down at the curb to throw up.

Kevin smiled to himself. ‘Is she now? Doesn’t time fly.’

Andrew staggered to his feet. Kevin took his arm. ‘Come on mate, let’s get you home.’

Kylie heard them stumbling down the drive. She heard voices and the key in the door. She strained to listen; if he had a woman with him then she would be left alone. She heard a man’s voice, and it wasn’t her fathers. She pulled the covers high up around her as tears fell silently down her cheeks. The front door closed and she heard the kitchen one open. The mutt gave one brief bark, she heard her dad as he fussed the stupid animal, and then she heard the footsteps on the stairs. Only one set, but they were heavy. The floorboards creaked and groaned and she knew the man was heading her way.

She glanced at the door. The feeble barrier of the drawers wouldn’t save her. She started to shake. Her eyes darted around looking for escape, but she knew there wasn’t any. Not for her. The door handle turned. Then pressure against the door, the drawers began to slide slowly towards the wall.

Kylie buried herself under the covers and closed her eyes. If she shut them tight enough and wished hard enough she might get lucky and die.

Kevin paid the taxi and climbed out. He walked to his front door a contented man. Sometimes life was good. He let himself in and turned around to lock and bolt the door. He didn’t share Andrews view on the killer. Kevin had a bad feeling about it and wasn’t going to take any chances.

Without switching the hall light on, he went into the kitchen. He was famished. Sex always made him hungry and she had been as sweet as honey. He pulled open the fridge door and the kitchen light flicked on. For a brief second he didn’t get it. Didn’t register what was happening. Then as realisation hit him so did the fear. He swung round to face the black clad figure who was pointing a gun at him.

On his kitchen table was a note. He stepped closer to the table and read it – ON YOUR KNEES AND WRITE SORRY WITH THE LIPSTICK. Kevin picked up the lipstick. It was new and unused. His hand was shaking violently and he could feel beads of sweat bursting through his pores. He fought his fear. He had to remain calm and in control.

He looked at the figure assessing. They had a gun; they knew how to use it, but the killer wasn’t large, they were medium height, slim build. And despite the gun, Kevin felt he had an advantage – as he had nothing to lose.

Kevin dropped the note to the floor and looked at the figure defiantly. ‘No.’

The killer stepped closer and pointed the gun at Kevin’s head. Adrenaline pumped through Kevin’s veins making him brave and reckless. If the killer would come just a little bit closer he could make a lunge for it. He stood resolute. ‘You’re going to kill me anyway, so just do it.’ He was pleased with his bravado. He’d show the fucker what he was dealing with.

A shot rang out and a bullet seared into his knee. He screamed in pain and dropped to the floor. ‘Fuck! Alright! Alright...’

The figure moved around the table and kicked the lipstick closer to him. Kevin concentrated all his pain and fury into a sideways lunge and grabbed the killer’s leg. The intruder toppled backwards and dropped the gun. Kevin launched himself at the killer, dragging his bleeding leg he threw himself on top and punched the figure hard in the ribs.

He grabbed the balaclava and pulled it from their head. He stared in stunned surprise. His face was close against theirs.

A knee shot up and caught him in the groin. He screamed in agony. The killer pushed him off and scrambled to their feet, then stamped on his shot leg. The pain sent him fighting for consciousness.

The killer lunged for the gun and turned it on him.

The question formed in his mind and reached his lips...‘Why?’ But the bullet hit before he could have any answer.

Chapter Twenty Two

I’d been careless. I should have been more careful. I knew how dangerous Kevin was. He had been the ringleader. The master manipulator. How had I let him get the better of me?

Time was against me now. There would be clues, stuff for forensics to get excited about. It wouldn’t be long before they were knocking at my door. How long did I have? I wasn’t sure, but it would take time to do the checks.

In all our research we never considered being caught before we had finished. It seemed insanely arrogant now. But we had planned it all so carefully we didn’t see how it could go wrong. But then we didn’t ever consider me having to do all this alone either.

I was sure I still had time; they might start to suspect but the evidence would have to be pieced together. It was a warning though, I had to speed up and I had to smarten up. After twenty years of planning I wasn’t going to be stopped now.

Matt didn’t want to wake up. But someone was banging on his door. Reluctantly he opened his eyes, it was still dark, and he glanced at his bedside clock. It was just gone four am. He threw the covers off and climbed out of bed. He ran down stairs and pulled open the door. A young uniformed PC was on his doorstep.

His first thought was Avril. Had she done something stupid? Had they found her in a ditch, was she dead?

Matt didn’t manage to get to a second thought. ‘I’ve been sent to get you.’ The PC said. The lad was very young, hardly old enough to have a driving license.

Or was it just that he was getting old? ‘By?’

‘DS Tyson sir, there’s been another murder.’

Matt opened the door wider. ‘You’d better come in while I throw some clothes on.’ He didn’t wait for an answer; he headed back upstairs to his bedroom.

He picked up his mobile which listed several missed calls, the empty bottle of whisky by the bed showed why he hadn’t heard them.

Matt knew who was dead as soon as they turned into the street. It was where Kevin lived; it was a neat, tidy, semidetached pre-war house. Matt knew that Kevin had lived there his entire life, man and boy. Matt had even gone there once as a lad. Kevin’s mother had invited a few ‘friends’ home for tea after school. He never understood why he’d been asked or even why he went. He and Kevin had never been friends. But it had been Kevin who issued the invitation and even back then when they were barely teenagers, you didn’t say no to Kevin. Not unless you were up for a kicking.

Not that Matt had been a coward. But Kevin had a way of getting what he wanted. He was a clever manipulator. He was brilliant at assessing others weaknesses and then he’d exploit them ruthlessly.

Somehow Kevin had made Matt feel that by turning down the invitation it would hurt Kevin’s mothers feelings. Utter nonsense of course, since she’d never even met him. But Matt had gone along to the ‘Tea’ party. He hadn’t liked Kevin’s mother at all. She’d been everything a perfect mum should be. Lots of homemade cakes and sandwiches, they’d even been allowed Coca-Cola, a real treat that he rarely experienced at home. The woman had been attentive, asking all the boys about school and about her son and about the teachers and the girls.

To start with it had been flattering. Matt’s own mother worked part time and he had two younger brothers so he wasn’t used to a lot of adult attention. But then it had felt invasive. More like an inquisition. None of the other lads had seemed bothered or fazed by it. But Matt couldn’t wait to get away and made sure that he never went back again. It had felt as though he was in a play and everyone else knew the plot and what their lines were, he was the only one who didn’t get it. Kevin and his mother had some other agenda and Matt had been too stupid or to naive to know what it was.

Jen walked out of the house as soon as she saw him arrive. She was excited. ‘This one fought back,’ she said, the minute he climbed out of the car. ‘He was shot in the leg as well as the head. He didn’t write sorry, although the lipstick is there...’

Matt quashed the irritation he usually felt at seeing Jen all bright and bouncy at such a shit hour. Truth was she could keep him out of the loop and take over. Since his wife was a suspect he should really be off the case. But they had no evidence and she hadn’t been charged with anything, besides, he was an experienced officer and the force was overstretched and short staffed. He walked into the house. Kevin was a bloody heap on the kitchen floor. Matt knew he should feel some sadness and compassion. The man was dead, had probably died in agony. But he didn’t, and if he was brutally honest with himself he was glad.

A uniformed PC waved at Matt to get his attention. Matt left the kitchen and followed the policeman to a small room at the back of the house. It was a small study, dominated by a large desk and an expensive looking computer. It also had a small comfy looking sofa, a very large TV and a DVD player. The policeman pointed to a fancy looking printer which was on the desk alongside a digital camera.

Matt had a horrible feeling that was quickly confirmed when the policeman pointed to the printer tray.

‘Some pretty hard core shit. Children Sir...’

Matt stared at the pictures and shook his head in disgust. He wished he’d put a bullet in the bastard himself.

Matt sat at the bar in the Rugby clubhouse, a pint in his hand and a photo in front of him. It was the picture of the team when they won the youth trophy.

Andrew walked in he stopped beside Matt and ordered himself a pint. He pointed to the picture. ‘Not you an’ all. Kev was whittling on about the past last night.’

Matt stared at the photo, wishing as he had a hundred times before that he could turn the clock back and re-live that day.

‘That was a real team.’ Andrew said. ‘Don’t make ‘em like that now. Kids today don’t have the heart or the guts for it.’

‘You were with Kevin all evening?’

Andrew nodded.