Screams in the Dark (18 page)

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Authors: Anna Smith

BOOK: Screams in the Dark
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‘I want five thousand pounds.’

‘What?

‘You hear me.’ Josef said. ‘Cash money. Tomorrow.’

‘You’re fucking joking.’

‘You pay the money, or I give letter to police.’

‘If you give the letter to the police, you will get arrested for stealing it.’ Frank hoped his voice didn’t sound as desperate as he felt.

‘I didn’t steal it.’

‘So who did?’ Frank knew the answer before he even said it.

‘That is for police to prove,’ Josef said. ‘But they going to ask you questions first. You want them to ask you questions? I think you are a crook, Mr Paton. You and Mr Murphy. Both crooks. You want police to ask questions?’

Bastard, Frank murmured to himself. The words in the letter rung in his ears –
I told you we should have stopped. See you in hell … Tony
. The cops would be all over him like a rash if they got hold of that. Christ! Twenty years at the top of his game and he was being done up like a kipper by some fucking Russian thicko who could hardly write his name. That fucking Tanya. He never trusted her from the start. It was Tony who wanted to give her the job, keys to the office, the lot. He trusted her too much. Now it was all coming into sharp focus in Frank’s mind. Tony must have been having an affair with her. He’d even asked him once, when he found the two of them having a laugh together in the office. But Tony always denied it. Tanya must have taken the letters. The bitch.

‘Listen,’ Frank said. ‘I’ll meet you somewhere. I need to see the letter.’ He wrote down the mobile number that was on his consul.

‘You call me when you have the money and we meet. The letter is not a trick, you know that for sure. You meet me, give me five thousand and I give you the letter. Then we say no more. You do this tomorrow, or I go to cops.’

‘Wait!’ Frank said. But the line was already dead.

CHAPTER 18

It had been two hours since Tanya had called, and Rosie knew by the sound of her voice she was in trouble. She’d wanted to go to her straight away, but she was stuck in her flat wondering what to do with Emir, who was still sound asleep. She finally woke him up and told him to stay in the flat until she got back, when she would call McGuire and talk about bringing in the cops. Emir was very grateful and said he wouldn’t leave until she returned.

As she sat in the Argyle Street traffic jam, Rosie’s stress levels were picking up the pace. She tapped the steering wheel nervously and glanced at her watch, reflecting on last night’s row with TJ. She knew how he would react when she told him she had Emir at her flat, and she considered not telling him at all when he’d called her, suggesting they go for dinner. She decided to be honest and he was predictably furious. He couldn’t believe she was being this reckless when she knew the kind of guys who were already after Emir.

‘You’re asking for trouble,’ TJ had said. Then, before he hung up, he added, ‘Actually no, Rosie. You’re going out of your way to make sure you get trouble. I don’t know what to do with you.’

His words had stung Rosie for the rest of the evening while she tried to clean up Emir’s wound, make him a meal and give him her spare room for the night. She had much more on her plate right now than a row with TJ, but she was about to phone him when her mobile lit up and vibrated on the passenger seat.

‘Gilmour. Where the hell are you?’ It was McGuire.

‘Oh. Hi Mick. Er, I’m just heading out to see Tanya. Got a call from her this morning, and I think she’s in some sort of trouble.’

‘Really? Well watch what you’re doing. By the way I didn’t hear from you all day yesterday. And why the fuck don’t you keep in touch? Am I going to have to start tagging you?’

‘Sorry, Mick. It all got a bit crazy last night.’

‘What did?’

‘I’ll tell you in a bit. I’ve got a lot to tell you.’

‘So tell me.’

She confessed that she and Matt had driven to Manchester behind a truck loaded with containers from the slaughterhouse. Once he stopped ranting and berating her for going without asking him, she told him about the PD Pharmaceuticals and the checks she’d made on them from library cuttings.

‘So, you’re not telling me they’re involved in the illegal trade of body tissue? Come on, Rosie. Don’t tell me you’re
even thinking about us taking on a bloody multinational. Do you want to give the lawyers a stroke?’

‘We’re a long way away from that, Mick. But all I’m saying is the stuff they took from the slaughterhouse – whatever it was – they dropped off down at this plant, in an area kind of hidden away from the mainstream operation of the place. I’m told it’s the section where they test their drugs on animals. I spoke to a security guard and he said nobody ever gets inside that place and it’s all top secret. Maybe it’s just possible there
is
something dodgy going on and it’s top secret not for the reasons people think, but because of what they’re really doing. Or what they’re also doing … if you get my drift. Maybe they’ve got some rogue workers who are involved in the tissue trade and nobody else knows anything about it. It’s anybody’s guess.’

‘You’re beginning to sound plausible, Gilmour. But I won’t be going anywhere with this until we’re totally all over it.’

‘Of course.’

‘So what’s going on with this Tanya bird?’

‘Don’t know. That’s where I’m headed.’

‘And what happened last night? You said it all went a bit crazy.’

Rosie hesitated. But she knew she wouldn’t get away with it.

‘Well?’

‘Tell you later, Mick. When I come in.’

‘You will, and your arse. What the fuck have you done?’

‘Mick …’ She hesitated again. ‘Look. Can it not wait for a couple of hours?’

‘Just give me a heads-up, Rosie. Don’t fuck about. If you’ve done something stupid I want to know now. Come on. Out with it.’

Rosie took a deep breath, then exhaled as she turned into the street where Tanya lived. She drove along, trying to find a parking space.

‘Okay. Just briefly, Mick, because I’m about to go into Tanya’s flat.’ She stopped the car at the kerb. ‘Listen. The refugee, Emir? Remember?’

‘Of course I remember. I’m the fucking editor.’

Rosie stifled a laugh. McGuire was on his high horse.

‘Well, he called me yesterday. When I was on my way back up from Manchester.’

‘Great. At least he’s not chopped liver.’ McGuire chuckled at his own wit. ‘Yes. He told me the most amazing story about what happened. He’s been on the run for a few days. They kidnapped him. Took him to the slaughterhouse. I think he was next in line to be … er … chopped liver.’

‘Fucking hell,’ McGuire said. ‘So where is he now?’

‘He’s in my flat.’

‘What?

‘Yeah. I let him stay there last night.’

‘Christ almighty, Rosie! Why didn’t you call me last night about this?’

‘It was just a spur of the moment thing. Sorry, Mick. I knew you’d go nuts, and I felt sorry for the guy. He was terrified, and he’d been stabbed on the arm. What was I supposed to do? He had nowhere to go.’

‘Rosie. When you get through with Tanya, give me a call. Then go back and make sure Emir hasn’t been murdered in your flat.’ He paused. ‘You know Rosie, this is just wrong what you’ve done. I’ll talk to you when you get in.’ He hung up.

*

When Tanya opened the door, Rosie gasped at the state of her face.

‘Shit, Tanya,’ she said, heading down the hallway. ‘What happened?’ She followed Tanya into the tiny living room, her mind flipping to junkie prostitute Mags Gillick the day she’d told her she’d got a dig from the bent cop who was using her.

Tanya sat down, lit a cigarette and inhaled deeply, the cigarette trembling in her fingers. She looked up at Rosie and sniffed. One eye was black and swollen and her mouth was puffed up and bloodied.

‘Can I get you something, Tanya?’ Rosie said, not really knowing what to say. ‘Tea or something? Water?’

‘Coffee, please.’ Tanya jerked her head in the direction of the kitchen area behind her.

Rosie put the kettle on, searching in cupboards for the coffee and cups. She came back out and sat opposite Tanya.

‘What happened, Tanya?’

‘It was Josef.’ She wiped a tear from her eye. ‘He followed me last night from the hotel.’

‘The hotel?’ Rosie asked.

There was an awkward pause, and before Tanya took her eyes off the floor and looked up at her, Rosie knew what she was going to say.

‘I am working as escort.’ Her expression was flat, resigned.

‘Oh,’ Rosie said. ‘I didn’t know.’ But she wasn’t surprised.

‘Only in the past few weeks. I needed to get some more money. I did it before. A couple of years ago, and at first when I come to England.’ She blew out smoke and shrugged. ‘What the hell. It is easy money.’

Rosie watched her as she dissolved into tears. It wasn’t easy money. Never was. Not on any level. It was no easier for Tanya than it had been for Mags Gillick, or any of the women down the generations who had reduced themselves to hocking their bodies, whether it was for drugs, drink or any other reason.

Rosie got up, made two mugs of coffee and came back, handing one to Tanya before she sat down.

‘So Josef followed you,’ Rosie said, putting down her mug.

Through tears, Tanya told her about the beating, about how she had only let him in because she felt sorry for him, because there had been a time when he meant the world to her.

Rosie listened, saying nothing. Then Tanya stopped.

‘He stole from me.’

‘Your money?’ Rosie assumed.

‘Yes,’ Tanya, said, swallowing. ‘But that is not all.’

Rosie looked at her enquiringly.

‘Do you mean the piece of paper you showed me, with the names of the refugees?’

Tanya shook her head.

‘No. I have that in a safer place.’

‘What then?’

Tanya swallowed. ‘I stole two letters, Rosie. Suicide notes. From Tony Murphy, that day. I took them from his desk. One for his wife, and the second one was for Frank Paton.’

Rosie’s stomach turned over.

‘Christ, Tanya,’ she sighed. ‘That’s serious.’

‘I know.’ She lifted her coffee mug, then put it back down without drinking. ‘You know I told you I was Tony Murphy’s lover. I was shocked, and also a bit angry that he left a note for her and for Frank, but nothing for me.’

Rosie couldn’t believe what she was hearing.

‘You mean you read the letters?’ Rosie chastised herself for hoping Tanya had a copy of them. But she knew if she even as much as touched the letters she was crossing the line. Her heart raced as Tanya told her the contents of the letters.

‘I send the letter to Tony’s wife,’ Tanya said. ‘I went to the funeral and I saw her with Tony’s children. I knew then that I was nothing. She deserve to have the letter. It is what Tony wanted.’

Rosie said nothing. ‘But I kept the other letter, the one for Frank Paton. That is what Josef stole. It was in my bag.’

‘Jesus.’ Rosie said. ‘Josef has that letter?’

‘Yes.’

Rosie sat silent, pondering the problem for a moment. There was only one thing a scumbag like Josef would do with that letter. ‘He will use it to blackmail Frank Paton, won’t he, Tanya?’

Tanya nodded. Rosie rubbed a hand across her forehead and took a deep breath. ‘Tanya,’ she said, ‘this has made things very dangerous. You do know that.’ Tanya looked stricken but said nothing. ‘Why did you steal the letter to Frank?’ Rosie asked. ‘I mean, I can see why you took the one for Tony’s wife, because of the way you felt. But why Frank? Were you going to blackmail him?’

Tanya shrugged. ‘I don’t know, Rosie. That is the truth. I think maybe I thought of it at the time, I don’t know. I just did it all very quickly, like I was shocked. Then after, I didn’t know what to do with that letter.’ She sighed and shook her head. ‘Yes, I thought about blackmail, but that was before I took the paper from his office with the names of the refugees. Then I knew that maybe Tony and Frank were doing something bad with refugees, that refugees were going missing.’ She looked at Rosie. ‘I wasn’t going to blackmail Frank, Rosie. I was going to give the letter to you to give to the police. It maybe help proving what they do to these people.’

‘It would have certainly helped incriminate Frank Paton, Tanya. That’s for sure. But it’s not there any more, so God knows what will happen to it.’

They sat in silence, Tanya, sipping her coffee, touching her swollen cheek, Rosie watching her, her heart sinking.

‘I wish you’d told me before,’ Rosie said. ‘But right now, that’s not important. What’s important is that you may be in danger. I think we need to talk about going to the police and what you do from here. You need to be protected.’ She looked around the room. ‘I don’t know if
you’re safe here. Does anyone else know you live here? Frank Paton?’

‘No. Only Josef.’

‘That’s dangerous enough.’

Tanya lit another cigarette and looked directly at Rosie. ‘I have a copy of the letter to Frank,’ she said.

Rosie hoped her face didn’t show the naked excitement of the reporter she couldn’t help being.

Tanya got up and went to her bedroom. She returned moments later and handed Rosie the letter.

Rosie read it, then she read it twice more, knowing she’d crossed the line yet, at the same time, not quite believing her luck.

‘But there is a problem, Rosie,’ Tanya said.

Rosie looked up at her.

‘The letter Josef stole was folded up in my bag, but inside it was the business card you gave me.’

Rosie stood up. ‘The card is gone?’

‘Yes,’ Tanya said. ‘I’m sorry.’

‘Shit,’ Rosie said, and a shiver ran down her spine.

CHAPTER 19

It was a long time since Rosie had been this watchful as she drove into the car park behind her flat at St George’s Cross. For months, after the night she was dragged out of her house and bundled into the boot of a car by big Jake Cox’s hoodlums, she’d automatically paid close attention to anyone sitting in a car anywhere near the building. For the first few weeks, she’d been totally paranoid and seldom went into her flat at night by herself. If she worked late at the
Post
, McGuire had insisted that a taxi drive behind her to make sure she got into the building safely. But things moved so quickly in her job that the memory of one hellish night was often replaced by another. After returning from Spain and Morocco, safe only by the skin of her teeth, Rosie had almost forgotten the cold fear of that night they’d come to kill her. And with the memories of Kosovo still fresh in her mind, the terror in Glasgow seemed like a long time ago. But now, as she drove into the deserted car park, she looked over her shoulder as she jumped out of her car and trotted up to her front door.

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