THE DOMINO BOYS (a psychological thriller) (21 page)

Donnie Craddick groaned as they cuffed his hands behind his back. Helplessly, he sank his nose into the carpet. The smell of carpet cleaning fluid from the fibres made him feel sick.

*  *  *  *

Barry Stocker was sitting by the swimming pool sipping an iced drink. The hot Spanish Sun beat down on him. He’d slapped loads of cream on his bare arms and legs, because he would burn very easily if not. The ripples of light on the pool’s surface was hypnotic, made him feel drowsy with it. The dappled light through the trees played over his paperback book, open on the floor by his chair. He thought he should pick it up and read, but his mind couldn’t concentrate. How long had it been now? Three hours? Four? Duncan should be arriving back at the villa soon, surely. How long did it take to drive to the airport and back? The waiting was murder.

He’d just picked up his book to try and force his way through another page when he heard Duncan’s hired people carrier coming up the hill to the villa. Stood up and watched it thread its way up the rough stone-strewn road, disappear behind dense vegetation. He went inside, the cool of the villa’s interior contrasting sharply with the heat outside. He opened the front door just as the car was pulling to a halt outside. Duncan Winslade waved at him from the driver’s seat, and Barry waved meekly back. Duncan cut the engine, clambered out. Four more people vacated the vehicle too. They grabbed suitcases from the boot and off the roof rack.

‘They’re all here,’ said Duncan. ‘Safe and sound.’

‘So it worked?’ said Barry.

‘Like a treat.’

Alfie Parker went up to Barry. He was grinning broadly. He had a suitcase in his hand, sunglasses on. ‘Barry, I’d like you to meet Roberto Ginetta, his minder, Susie Storey and Inspector Lavery.’

The tiny crowd of people came up to the villa’s entrance.

‘So it worked?’ Barry said again.

‘There’s an echo around here,’ said Alfie. ‘Of course it worked. Thanks to the Overthorpe Amateur Players and a few of its latest stars.’

‘And thanks to a brilliant script written by one Alfie Parker,’ said Duncan Winslade joining them. ‘Shall we sit by the pool, grab a drink before lunch?’ The suggestion was met by unanimous enthusiasm.

Alfie introduced Barry to everyone properly, using their real names. He was still in a state of shellshock. On the night he was taken by Inspector Lavery he was convinced he was being taken to the police station, only to find that it was his friend Duncan Winslade waiting for him with the news that he’d been an unwitting part of a sting planned by Alfie and him to rid Overthorpe of the Craddicks once and for all. After a brief explanation Duncan and he were on a plane the next morning bound for Spain, but Duncan refused to say more till it was all over and they were sitting by the pool.

‘My disappearance was only an excuse to get our Inspector Lavery involved,’ Duncan explained.

The man who played Inspector Lavery raised a glass. ‘Glad to help, old boy,’ he said. ‘I was actually there on stage rehearsing when Craddick came to see Alfie and slashed our set. We were having none of that. I was only too happy to help nail the bastard. He never recognised me in my getup.’

‘I thought Craddick had bumped you off,’ said Barry to Duncan. ‘You had me worried. Why didn’t you involve me from the start?’

‘Because you’re a terrible actor, Barry,’ said Alfie. ‘Remember? You auditioned for the OAPs some time ago and, not to put too fine a point on it, you were shocking. We couldn’t have Donnie Craddick rumbling what was going on. So we had to keep you in the dark as long as we could. If you believed what was going on then Craddick would too. Peter from the Coach and Horses pub was also in on it. In fact he did such a great job of convincing Roche he knew Ginetta that I‘m thinking he really ought to be with the OAPs. To pad out the realism still more we paid a couple of guys at the Silver Crucible Club to spin the line that Ginetta owned it. All in all, it made Ginetta appear very real and very important – a larger-than-life character played quite superbly, by the way.’

‘Much appreciated.’ Ginetta raised his glass in salute, too. ‘I await my Olivier Award.’

‘Taken together this made Craddick buy the line that Ginetta was a force to be reckoned with and had stolen his counterfeit money, whereas I had it all along. Duncan, Dickie Sugden and me cleared it out of the lockup after Roche had told Ginetta where it was, and we stashed it all in my hut at the allotment – a bit of a squeeze but nobody would ever think to look there for a million pounds! Then I used my enforced daily cleaning round at Red House to transfer the money a bit at a time into one of the lesser-used rooms there. Dickie Sugden helped me do that, too, bless him. That was one big chore, I can tell you. There was a number of heavy boxes to be shifted.’

‘Our very own reporter, Susie Storey here – ‘ said Duncan.

‘Just plain Janice to you,’ interrupted the woman.

He smiled. ‘Janice used the interview with Craddick to get at Mickey’s red books. She managed to get Craddick to take his jacket off for the photo, to hang it over the back of the chair…’

‘Then I got a text from her,’ said Ginetta, ‘telling me to ring Craddick to fix a time for the meeting to hand over the notes. While he was away talking to me Janice grabbed the key out of his jacket pocket, swiped the books and put them in her holdall.’

‘What’s happened to them?’ asked Barry.

‘They’re turned to ash,’ said Alfie. ‘They made quite a nice bonfire. Whatever secrets were in them have disappeared forever.’

‘The gunfight at the factory was something to see,’ said the man who played Ginetta’s minder. He didn’t look half as aggressive or intimidating in his T-shirt and shorts. ‘Reminded me of when I was a kid playing cops and robbers. All those blanks and false blood.’

‘You did rather ham it up in your death scene, though,’ observed Ginetta.

‘Look who’s talking!’ He chuckled. ‘I thought you were never going to kick the bucket!’

Ginetta laughed. ‘Ah, the green-eyed monster… Both Craddick and Roche fell for it, though.’

‘The police think Roche is dead,’ said Duncan.

Barry blinked. ‘Dead? How?’

‘Craddick murdered him, they say. If so that was unintentional; the plan was for the police to find Roche in possession of counterfeit notes, but Craddick must have seen red. The envelope given to Roche was covered in blood, and it was all over Craddick’s clothes too. They put two and two together when it came out that Craddick had told Camellia he was intending to get rid of Roche for telling her about his involvement with Marcus’ murder. My contacts at the station told me they easily traced the mud on his clothes and boots to the sinkhole at the disused mine. Last thing I heard, the police were sending divers into the sinkhole.’

‘And what of Camellia? What’s happened to her?’ said Barry.

Alfie stepped in again. ‘Something didn’t feel right, so I went up and checked to see if she really had left Red House. It was a good thing, too. The bastard had tied her up, beaten her and was threatening to finish her off. I released her, told her what was happening and she agreed to go along with the plan to fix Craddick for good. I got Dickie to drive the van out of the grounds, make them think we’d both left. He nearly cocked it up; he ran the van into the gatepost. I’d been teaching him to drive just for the fun of it, never expecting he’d ever have to drive the van for real. Anyhow, he managed OK. I got Camellia out as soon as I was sure Craddick and Roche had left. She went to the police when we were both certain Craddick would be back at the house. He was caught red-handed with the money. Camellia maintained that I had never been at the house, and that she’d never heard of anyone called Ginetta or Inspector Lavery, and that Craddick was making the entire thing up. He’s to go on trial for kidnapping, suspicion of murder, possession of a million in counterfeit notes, and a multitude of other things. My guess is we won’t be seeing him again.’

A small cheer went up from the group, and a clinking of glasses.

‘We also have Donnie’s money,’ Duncan said. ‘In reality it never belonged to him. He took it from me and many others. So, Barry, you have now got thirty thousand pounds to set you up in the shop you wanted; Dickie Sugden’s mother is going to get a huge anonymous cheque to pay for everything Dickie needs in future; and the Overthorpe Amateur Players are going to get a massive infusion of cash from an unknown donor to keep the organisation going for another twenty years. The remainder? Well, there are a good many charitable projects in Overthorpe that need a cash boost.’ He raised his glass. ‘So, I’d like to propose a toast. Here’s to the town that worked together to get rid of its Mr Big.’

They brought their glasses together.

‘I’ve got a toast too,’ said Barry.

They refilled empty glasses and looked expectantly at him.

‘Here’s to community arts! I take back everything I ever said about amateur dramatics!’

Laughter rippled through the group and everyone gladly tipped back their drinks.

The group ate their meals by the pool, and as night fell and the burning sun sank behind a fiery band of cloud, Barry, Duncan and Alfie found themselves sitting together at the table, watching their new trio of friends chatting amiably inside the villa.

‘Right,’ said Duncan. ‘Let’s get down to some serious business.’ He reached into a carrier bag by his foot and pulled out a long wooden box. ‘Who’s for a game of dominoes?’

*  *  *  *

Dear Reader,

Thank you for purchasing THE DOMINO BOYS.

You can now follow me on Facebook and on Twitter @dmtheauthor for news on the latest releases and free book offers. Or check out my official website at
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Daniel M. Mitchell

By D. M. Mitchell

Novels:

Max

Silent

Mouse

Blackdown

After the Fall

The Soul Fixer

Flinder’s Field

Latimer’s Demon

The Domino Boys

The King of Terrors

Armageddon Heights 

Archangel Hawthorne

The House of the Wicked

The Woman from the Blue Lias

Pressure Cooker

The First D. M. Mitchell Thriller Omnibus

The Second D. M. Mitchell Thriller Omnibus

The D.M. Mitchell Supernatural Double Bill

Short Stories:

Rabbits

Mulligan’s Map

The Pen of Manderby Pincher

Visit the official D. M. Mitchell website at
www.dm-mitchell.com
for more information on books and author biographies

You can also join D. M. Mitchell on Facebook, and on Twitter at D M Mitchell @dmtheauthor for details of his latest releases and free book offers

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