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Authors: Heather Atkinson

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BOOK: Divided Loyalties
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“Thank God that’s over with.”

“You did Danny proud Love,” Martina told her.  “That was a lovely spread.”

Rachel hugged her tightly.  “Thank you.”

“Mum, Beth will take you home,” said Alex.  “We’ve things to discuss.”

Alex kissed his wife and Rachel had to look away as they gazed at each other adoringly, just how she and Danny used to look at each other.

“I’ll meet you there Babe,” he said.

“Okay.”

As Martina followed her daughter-in-law out she looked back to see Rachel settling down for a meeting with the men with all the authority and command of one of them and she felt sad.  Rather than take a step back from the life, Danny’s death had only pushed her further into it and she prayed it wouldn’t destroy her.

“DS Sharples has been keeping me up to date with the investigation,” began Alex grimly.  “Surprisingly Benton is putting all he’s got into it.”

“He doesn’t want a war,” added Battler.

“Probably but he’s no solid leads.  No forensics, CCTV, witnesses, nothing apart from the footage from that mobile phone.  Although that confirmed the location of the shooter it doesn’t tell us anything about them.”

“The first thing we need to figure out,” said Frankie, “is whether this was business or personal.”  He looked at each of them in turn.

“It must be business,” said Mikey.

“Why?”

“Because…,” he trailed off, not sure why.  “I just assumed.”

“Assuming nothing Pal,” replied Frankie. 

“Danny had enemies in business but that was it,” said Alex.

Frankie looked to Rachel.  “Is that right?”

“Yes,” she said quietly, taking a swig of brandy.

“And what about you?  You were shot too,” said Frankie.

“I don’t have any enemies that I’m aware of and certainly no one who could get a high powered rifle and make a shot like that.  It has to be business.”

“The Bailey Family were pissed off when we took over their patch,” said Mikey.  “They swore they’d get us back for it.”  The Baileys were minor fish in the pond, known for drug dealing and muggings.

“They’re a bunch of muppets, all baseballs bats and knuckle dusters,” said Battler.  “If they tried using guns they’d probably look down the wrong end and blow their brains out.”

“Agreed,” said Alex.  “This was well planned and meticulously carried out.  Not their style.”

“Maybe they contracted it out?” offered Ryan. 

“A hired killer?” said Alex.

Ryan nodded.  “There’s plenty of them about, some of them competent enough to pull off a stunt like this.”

“It’s not the Baileys,” interjected Rachel.

They all turned to look at her.

“If they’d hired someone it would gave been all over the city by now.  They’re notorious for being unable to keep anything quiet.”

“She does have a point,” said Ryan.

“We’ve two choices,” she continued.  “Follow the gun or start looking at whoever’s capable of carrying out a hit.  Find the weapon or the triggerman and we find Danny’s murderer.”

They all nodded approvingly. 

“Alright Rach, we’ll do it your way,” said Alex.  “We’ll start with the gun runners around here.  Jez, Ryan, we’d appreciate your assistance.”

“Whatever you need Alex,” replied Ryan.

“Cheers.  We’ll make a start tomorrow.”

“Why not tonight?” said Rachel.

“Its been a long day.”

“Whoever did it has had long enough to cover their tracks.  We can’t let them get ahead of us any longer.  The more time that passes the less chance we have of finding them.  No one will be expecting us to start the hunt tonight.  We need to utilise that element of surprise.”

Frankie looked at her admiringly.  “You’re one fucking smart woman Mrs Maguire.”

“Thank you,” she replied before taking another swig of brandy then she got to her feet.  The alcohol had deadened some of the pain in her shoulder.  She’d managed to fend off Beth’s attempt to put her arm back in a sling, knowing she’d need both arms free for the hunt.  “Let’s go.”

“Rach, I really think you should stay here,” said Alex, likewise getting to his feet.

“I’m coming with you.”

“We’re going to have to encourage people to talk, it could get nasty.”

“Right now Alex I’m just in the mood for nasty,” she said, shoving her taser into her jacket pocket.

“Danny wouldn’t want you getting involved.”

She rounded on him impatiently.  “Danny isn’t here,” she yelled, feeling instantly guilty.  He’d buried his brother today so she swallowed down her anger and continued in a softer tone.  “If this was the other way around and I’d died Danny would be tearing this city apart to find my killer and you wouldn’t be trying to stop him.”

“Because Danny would have the stomach for what’s to come.”

“So do I.  What do I have to do to prove myself to you?”

“Come on, give her a chance,” said Ryan.  “She could be useful.  You could play good cop bad cop, she might help us encourage some of them to talk.”

“Thank you Ryan, at least someone has faith in me,” said Rachel without taking her eyes off Alex.

“Alright,” he sighed.  “But you do what we say when we say.”

“Of course,” she said, pulling on her boots.

“I mean it Rach.”

“I’ll behave.”

He followed her to the door, not convinced.

 

Their first port of call was Gary Hardcastle’s house, home of a notorious gun runner, the one everyone in the area turned to for a weapon.  He also specialised in the type of gun used to murder Danny.

“I’ve been expecting you.  Come in,” said Gary politely.

They followed him through a plush contemporary home to the living room where a huge gorilla with an enormous forehead waited.  Gary sat beside him, the gorilla glowering at them all.

“Please sit,” said Gary pleasantly.

They all found a place to sit, except for Ryan, who contented himself with leaning against the wall, hands thrust into his pockets casually.

“I take it you know why we’re here?” began Alex, taking the armchair opposite Gary.

“Yes.  I’m sorry for what happened.  Danny was a good bloke.  I respected him.”

“In that case you’ll have no objection to telling us if anyone bought an AS50 sniper rifle off you recently?”

“I’m sorry Alex, you know I never divulge my clients.  I wouldn’t stay in business very long if my customers couldn’t rely on my discretion.”

“So that would be a yes.  Fuck discretion, someone murdered my brother, possibly with one of your weapons and if I think you’re trying to protect his killer I’m going to get seriously pissed off.”

Gary smiled condescendingly and nodded at the gorilla, who opened his jacket to reveal a pistol holstered there.

“I wouldn’t try anything Alex.  Despite how handy you all are, none of you can outrun a bullet.  Not even you Mr McVay.”

Frankie’s eyes darkened, his fingers twitching over the hilt of the hatchet concealed inside his inner jacket pocket.

“You’re an arsehole Gary if you think we’ll go away and never bother you again.  We’ll fucking torture that list out of you if we have to,” snarled Alex.

Gary stared at him incredulously.  “Have you any idea who my backers are?  You come down on me and they’ll fucking rip you apart, Maguires or not.  Rachel, you always were the voice of reason.  Talk some sense into them, will you?”

Her expression softened.  “I understand your dilemma Gary, really I do.  You want to help us but you can’t?”

“Yes,” he smiled.  “See, she gets it.”

“It’s a difficult one,” she said, chewing her lip thoughtfully.  “Maybe we can reach an agreement, one that satisfies both sides without the need for bloodshed.  How much?”

“That’s very kind of you Rachel but what you could offer me is nothing to the amount of money I’d lose in business.”

“There must be something we have that you want?”

“Well, you could always turn over all your clubs to me, including Martina’s Bar,” he said slyly.

Alex looked furious.  “What?”

“That’s your price, is it?” said Rachel calmly.

“Yes.”

“That’s fucked Gary.  We don’t even know if you sold a gun to Danny’s killer,” said Alex.

“That’s your problem.  If you want to know for sure then you’ll hand over the clubs, lock stock and barrel.”

“No.”

“You don’t have a say in this Alex.  I believe the clubs are Rachel’s?”

“Yes they are,” she replied.

“Rachel, you can’t seriously be considering this?” exclaimed Alex.

“Please, give me a moment to think,” she said, getting up and strolling over to the fireplace to study a large wooden ornament on the mantelpiece.

Ryan saw how black her eyes were and smiled.

Rachel snatched up the statue and smashed it into the side of the gorilla’s face, the crack of his jaw audible.  Then she yanked the gun from his jacket, kicked Gary in the chest when he tried to rise and jammed the weapon into his crotch.

“What the fuck are you doing you crazy bitch?” he cried.

“Do you really think I’ll let you blackmail me into giving up the clubs?  Do you actually think I’ll give in to that?”

She pressed the gun harder against his crotch, causing him to grimace.

“Alex, you can’t let her do this,” he shrieked.  “Rein her in, do something.”

Alex smiled and clasped his hands behind his head.  “Sorry mate, Rachel’s a law unto herself.”

She cocked the weapon.  “Names or you can say goodbye to little Gary.”

“Little Gary,” snorted Frankie.  “Brilliant.”

Gary stared into Rachel’s black eyes and, realising she was deadly serious, nodded. 

“Alright, I’ll give you the names.”

She stood upright, keeping the gun trained on him and when the pressure was removed from his crotch he sighed with relief and gingerly cupped his balls.

“Anyone got a pen?” grinned Alex.

After he’d finished dictating the list Gary’s anger surged back.  “You’ve really fucked it this time.  I’ve got contacts all over the place, they’ll be coming for you when they hear about this.”

Rachel tilted her head to one side.  “Where’s your armoury?”

“What?”

“Oh dear, do your ears need unblocking?” she said, aiming the gun at the side of his head.

“Down below.”

“Show us.”

“Fuck you.”

“Frankie, I do believe you have a new axe you want to try out?” she called sweetly.

“Great,” he grinned, producing it from his jacket.

Gary almost wet himself at the sheer joy in Frankie’s eyes.  “Alright, I’ll show you.”

Rachel passed the gun to Alex, who kept it trained on Gary as they followed him down to the garage, accessed via the kitchen door.  Behind a row of shelves in the garage was a coded door.  Gary punched a number into the keypad and the door swung open to reveal a windowless concrete room, filled with every type of gun imaginable.

“Fucking beautiful,” grinned Frankie.

“Yes and now they’re ours,” said Rachel.

Gary opened his mouth to object but Alex whacked him around the back of the head with the butt of the gun, knocking him out.  They all ignored him as he crumpled into a heap on the floor.

“You sure about this?” said Mikey quietly.  “Gary wasn’t boasting, he does have powerful friends.”

“Who only care about making money,” said Rachel.  “When they find out that Gary let himself be robbed so easily they’ll lose faith in him and we’ll be waiting to step into the breach.  Frankie, I do believe you have contacts who would love these weapons and are powerful enough to assuage the anger of Gary’s friends?”

“Fucking right I do.  I’ll take this little lot off your hands.”

Frankie smiled at Rachel approvingly.  They both knew this was recompense for the disruption Danny’s death had caused him.  The Maguires desperately needed Frankie onside and this gesture ensured they kept him there.

“It’s not enough just to hurt them, I want to take everything from them,” she said quietly.  “Just like they did to us.”

Alex nodded and patted her shoulder.  “Alright Rach, let’s do it.”

CHAPTER 13

 

The men were ready for breaking down the front doors of every one of the three names on Gary’s list but Rachel wanted to consider each target carefully first and work out how best to approach them.

“Nathan Hudson,” said Battler thoughtfully.  “I know him, lairy little bastard but he’s smart and he’s ex-army.  He could have pulled off that shot.”

“His family have been trying to get into the coke business but we’ve always pushed them back,” said Mikey. 

“If this was an attempt to take over, why has no one made a move yet?” said Ryan. 

“Because Rachel survived,” interjected Alex. 

“You’re overestimating how much influence everyone thinks I have,” she said.

“No I’m not.  Look at the way you dealt with Gary.  It’s thanks to you we got that list of names.  Everyone in our world saw you as Danny’s equal and his partner, not just his wife.  With you still in charge they’ll be afraid to make their move.”

“I’m not in charge, you are.”

Alex glanced at Ryan and Frankie, who were listening intently.  “We’ll discuss that later.  Let’s sort this out first.”

“What’s Nathan’s weakness?” said Rachel.  “Is there anything he’s afraid of?”

“He was trapped in a fire when he was eleven,” offered Alex.  His eyes caught Rachel’s.  “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

She smiled and nodded.

 

“I didn’t kill him,” bellowed Nathan as Mikey and Ryan wrestled him into a chair in the basement of his own house and bound him to it.

“You bought an AS50 sniper rifle from Gary Hardcastle, just like the one Danny was shot with,” said Alex.

“Doesn’t mean I did it,” he cried.

“Why did you buy it?”

“To kill rats.”

Alex raised an eyebrow.  “You bought a British Army sniper rifle to kill rats?  Talk about overkill.”

“Alright, I admit I was going to shoot someone with it but not Danny.”

“Who?”

“I can’t say.”

Alex punched him hard in the face, snapping his head back, bloody spraying from his nose. 

“My brother’s dead so I don’t have the patience for your fucking games.  Tell me who you were going to take out with it.”

“No.”

“Have it your own way.”

Alex nodded at Rachel, who knelt before Nathan and produced a lighter from her pocket.  When the flame burst into life he visibly jumped, trying to lean back in the chair to get away from it.

“I heard what happened to you when you were eleven,” she said in a quiet monotone.  “You were trapped in a fire in a tower block.  The fire brigade pulled you out but the flame had already touched you, eating its way through skin and muscle.  It licked your legs so badly it was months before you could walk properly.”  She moved the flame closer to his face and he recoiled.  “I should think having to endure that pain again would finish you off, wouldn’t it Nathan?  Tell us where the gun is and who you were going to use it on and I promise you won‘t have to find out.”

“I can’t,” he wheezed.

“You disappoint me.”

Rachel got to her feet and nodded at Frankie, who eagerly poured a line of petrol from the can they brought with them for this purpose along the floor up to Nathan’s legs then emptied the rest of the contents all over him, causing him to gasp and scream.

“Tell us what we want to know and I won’t set you on fire,” said Rachel, brandishing the lighter.

“You won’t do it, you’re just a woman, you haven’t the guts.”

Rachel’s eyes blackened.  “My husband was shot in front of me and died in my arms.  I’m willing to do anything to find out who caused that to happen, including burning you to a crisp.”

With that she ignited the petrol, which sparked into life and ran a path straight towards Nathan.

“Put it out, put it out, I’ll tell you,” he screamed hysterically, straining against his bonds.

Frankie put out the fire with an extinguisher one inch before it reached Nathan.

“I was going to kill Stefan with it,” he wailed.

“Your brother?” frowned Ryan.

“Yes.  I’ve been sleeping with his wife for two years, the baby she’s expecting is mine.  I wanted him out of the way so I can marry her.”

“Why doesn’t she just ask for a divorce?”

“He’d never let her go.  I was going to make it look like a hit, like business, so I wouldn’t be suspected.”

“Why didn’t you just tell us?” said Alex.

“Because I know he’s good friends with him,” he said, nodding in Ryan’s direction.

“Where’s the weapon?” demanded Alex.

“In the attic,” he wailed.

Alex nodded at Mikey, who left the room with Frankie and Ryan.  They returned clutching the gun.

“He’s telling the truth,” said Ryan.  “This weapon has never been fired.”

“Shit,” seethed Alex.

“We’re wasting time here, let’s go,” said Rachel.

Before they left Ryan knelt down before Nathan, his eyes like flint.  “If one hair on your brother’s head is hurt I will come back and finish the job we started today.  If you want to be with his wife then I suggest she gets a divorce you dirty scheming bastard.”

“O…okay,” he stammered.

With that Ryan straightened up and delivered a blow that knocked Nathan right out. 

“Shall we move onto suspect number two?” he smiled.

 

Ricky French was holding court in his nightclub, surrounded by hangers-on and money-hungry women when the Maguires and their retinue entered.  He swallowed nervously when he saw this formidable group approach, everyone turning to look their way but he felt safe surrounded by so many people.  However the set looks on their faces urged the hangers-on to beat a hasty retreat and suddenly Ricky found himself alone.  The Maguires, Frankie and Ryan piled into the booth with him, surrounding him and penning him in.

“Rachel, may I extend my condolences,” Ricky said gently as she took the seat beside him.

“I saw you at the funeral.  Thank you.”

He nodded and turned his attention to Alex.  “It’s a pleasure to have you in my club,” he said, hiding his nerves behind a front of bravado.  “May I say how sorry I am about your brother.”

“Thanks,” he replied pleasantly, although his eyes glittered with danger.  “I take it you know why we’re here?”

Ricky decided honesty was the best policy here.  “Because I recently bought a sniper rifle just like the one Danny was killed with and I swear to you, I didn’t do it.”

“Where’s the rifle Ricky?”

“I don’t have it, I acquired it for a friend of mine.”

Alex leaned forwards, radiating menace and rage.  “Who?”

The last thing Ricky wanted was a punch up in his club, which this situation would rapidly descend into if the Maguires didn’t get what they came for.  From the looks on their faces they didn’t give a shit that they were surrounded by witnesses.  It wasn’t worth the hassle.

“Johnny Jackson but I can tell you now it wasn’t him.  His house was raided the day before Danny was shot and the police seized the weapon.  It couldn’t have been him.”

“We will be checking your story,” said Rachel, “and if you’re lying this will be your fate.” 

She leaned forward to whisper in his ear in a cold monotone and all the blood drained from Ricky’s face and his hands shook.  Nine year old Ricky had almost died when he was attacked by his dad’s pitbull and the memory was still so vivid it was as though it had happened yesterday.  So Rachel threatening to have him torn to pieces by dogs put the fear of God into him.

“I’m telling you the truth, I promise,” he rasped.

“Then you’ve nothing to worry about,” she smiled sweetly but the smile didn’t reach her eyes, which for Ricky was the most chilling thing about the situation.  He found her more terrifying than the men accompanying her.

Despite the fact it was after midnight, Alex woke all his police contacts and demanded they verify Ricky’s story immediately.  While they waited for that verification they decided to tackle the last man on Gary’s list.  But this one had to be handled more tactfully.

Mark Cameron was ex-special forces and a hitman with a fearsome reputation.  Intimidation would not work on him like it had on the others.  They had to tread much more carefully.

This time Rachel and Alex took a back seat and let Mikey do the talking.  Mark was a huge boxing fan and followed Mikey’s career closely. 

“You probably know why we’re here,” opened Mikey.

Mark nodded.  “I was going to come and see you tomorrow, I didn’t want to intrude today of all days,” he said quietly, his gentle voice at odds with his six foot four frame, craggy but handsome face and cold blue eyes.  “I wouldn’t accept a contract on any of your family, you’ve put work a lot of work my way and I don’t piss in my own back yard.”

“You bought an AS50 from Gary Hardcastle?”

“I did and I haven’t had chance to use it yet.  You can take it if you like, my gesture of goodwill to you.”

“Thanks Mark, that’s much appreciated,” said Mikey in his genial way.  “Did anyone approach you with a contract on Danny?”

“No and they wouldn’t dare, I’d tell them to stick it up their arses then I’d tell you.”

Mikey glanced at Rachel and Alex in turn, who both nodded.  They believed him.

“I’ve seen the footage of the shooting,” continued Mark as gently as he could, “from a purely professional point of view you understand, I thought I might be able to see something that could help you find who did this.”

“And did you?” said Mikey.

“All I can say is that was a hell of a shot, whoever did it was professional.  This was no monkey with a gun.  You’re looking for a crack shot and an experienced sniper.”  He looked to Rachel.  “You need to be careful.  Do you have Kevlar?”

She nodded in response.

“Good because that second bullet was for you.  They’ll be pissed off they missed and they will try again.”

Rachel nodded again, looking perfectly serene, although she felt like throwing up.

“Is there anyone you know with the skill to pull this off?” said Mikey.

“Fedir Lutsky, Ukrainian mercenary recently moved to the city.  He’s incredibly skilled and not fussy about what contracts he takes on.  He could easily have managed that shot.”

“Do you know where we can find him?”

“He has a penthouse by the docks but you won’t get in there unless he lets you in, which I doubt he will, it’s heavily fortified.  But he does like to hang out at the pub on Montrose Street.”

“What are his weaknesses?” said Rachel.

Mark appeared thoughtful.  “Not many, he’s a human tank.  But I did hear that he had a boating accident when he was a kid and nearly drowned.  Water’s the only thing he’s scared of.”

“Then why live by the docks?” frowned Mikey.

“Because he likes to test himself, keep himself on the edge and he’s a complete lunatic.”

“Thanks Mark, that’s great,” said Alex.

“Be warned, if you’re going after this guy then go tooled up, he’s always armed.  Guns, knives, machetes, you name it he carries it and he has absolutely no respect for women Mrs Maguire.  If you try talking to him he will more than likely ignore you.”

“Thanks for the warning.”

“You’re welcome.  I’ll get you that gun.”

Mark handed over the weapon and they left peaceably, without one cross word exchanged and Rachel was relieved.  He was not a man she wanted as an enemy.

Back at Rachel’s house Battler examined the weapon.  “This hasn’t been fired recently either.  Looks like Mark was telling the truth.”

None of them were surprised, they’d not doubted him in the slightest.

“Well there’s nothing else we can do tonight,” yawned Alex.  “Let’s get some sleep and tackle Lutsky tomorrow.” 

“There is someone else we can pay a visit,” said Rachel.

“Who?” replied Alex.

“I should have thought of him sooner but I was thinking of someone with a criminal background.  Richard Spencer.  He threatened me and Danny at The Wherry Tavern just after his son was beaten up.”

“He’s got the cash to pay a hitman,” said Ryan.

“We’ll talk to him after Lutsky.”  Alex turned to Rachel.  “I don’t think you should be alone until the sniper’s caught.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“I’m not taking the risk, we’re not losing anyone else.  Battler, Bruiser, you can stay here.  In fact you don’t let her go anywhere alone and Rachel you wear your Kevlar at all times.”

“Are you sure you don’t mind staying here?” she asked the brothers.

“Not in the slightest Rachel.  Right now you’re our priority,” replied Battler.

“Thank you,” she said, touched, swallowing down her tears.  She was tired and the fact she’d buried her husband today was just hitting her.  She wanted to be alone to vent some of the grief threatening to bubble over.  “In that case I’ll go to bed.  Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” they replied in unison.

BOOK: Divided Loyalties
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