Stay Dead (34 page)

‘
Shit
,’ she moaned.

Max was crossing to the hall table, snatching up the telephone. She didn’t even listen to what he said, her mind was spinning out of control and all she could think was that this was down
to her. All evening, she’d been afraid of something like this, and now here it was. Jackie had helped her – and he’d died for it.

Max returned to her side, took her arm. There was blood all down his shirt and on his jacket. ‘Come on, let’s go in here,’ he said, and guided her across the hall and into the
study, shutting the door firmly after them, turning on the lights.

‘Chris and Tone are on their way,’ he said.

Annie nodded. This had happened before here, this procedure. A clean-up. A dead body shipped discreetly out and disposed of. Which meant no Christian burial for Jackie Tulliver, just a trip out
into the depths of the English Channel or down into the concrete foundations of a new building or a motorway bridge.

‘Oh God,’ said Annie, sitting down behind the desk and sinking her head into her hands. She looked up at Max. ‘Do you think Redmond . . . ?’

‘Dunno. Would he have had the time? What about his creep of a mate, that Mitchell sort. He’d been up to something, before he came in the back door. Could be that this is his
handiwork.’

‘I can’t believe this.’

‘Shit happens,’ said Max.

‘Is that all you’ve got to say? Jackie’s
dead
, and you say “shit happens”? That poor little bastard, he was mourning his mum and drinking to numb the pain,
and all your lot, all you rotten fuckers, you turned your backs on him because you thought he was a loose cannon and not to be trusted.’

Max gave her a long look. ‘He
wasn’t
to be trusted. He turned into a drunk. You can’t ever trust drunks.’

‘I think he would have got himself back on track, with some help.’

‘Well,
that
ain’t going to happen now.’

‘Christ, you’re a bastard.’

‘Just stating the obvious.’ Max came over, leaned on the desk, stared down at her. ‘For what it’s worth, Jackie Tulliver was a good friend to me back in the day.
I’m sorry he’s dead, and sorry it was this way and not peacefully in his own home. But shit
does
happen, and we’re going to deal with it.’

There was a heavy knock at the front door then; Max straightened and went to answer it.

‘You can stay in here,’ he said over his shoulder. ‘You don’t have to see this.’

‘No.’ Annie shoved herself upright on shaky legs. ‘I got him into this. So whatever there is to see, I’ll see it. OK?’

‘OK,’ said Max, and opened the door into the hall, where Jackie lay dead.

Annie braced herself, and followed.

Chris and Tony came into the house wearing rubber gloves and old clothes that would later be burned. Gently they cleared Jackie away, wrapping his corpse in a tarpaulin sheet
then carefully wiping the hall floor clean afterwards. With that sorted, Chris switched off the porch light and Max doused those in the hall while they cleared up the steps outside. When they were
done, Tony stepped out, leaving the door open, looking up and down the street. Then he came back in, nodding.

All clear.

Together Chris and Tony hoisted Jackie outside, and Max closed the door behind them, locked it, and came back across the darkened hall to where Annie stood in the doorway of the study, light
spilling out behind her.

‘Been a hell of a fucking day,’ he said.

‘Yeah.’ Annie felt both sick and numb, still unable to take it in. Jackie was
dead
.

‘Come on. Bedtime,’ he said, and took her arm and led her upstairs to the master suite.

Annie didn’t think it was possible, but she took a couple of painkillers and then she managed to fall asleep after an hour or so of lying awake, staring at the ceiling.
Max had gone off to the next room, the one with the connecting door into the master suite.
He
wouldn’t have any trouble getting to sleep, she knew it. The whole world could be coming
off its axis, and Max Carter would never panic.

Her mind kept replaying it: Jackie sitting there dead, propped against her front door like a discarded rag doll. And the blood. The
smell
.

Jackie had been watching Redmond, and Redmond could kill or give the order for it just for sheer pleasure, she knew that. Her mind kept churning it all over: Dolly dying and now Jackie, and
those two grey little souls standing by Dolly’s burial plot, her brother, her sister. And Sandy, all that he had told her. And Dick, in New Zealand. Or – was he?

Ellie, who didn’t want to know her any more . . .

The mob by the lychgate at the funeral, who would have done her serious damage if Max and his boys hadn’t been there . . .

She drifted into a light, restless sleep, and only woke when she knew he was in the room. She sat up, reached for the light. Max was there, in the chair again. Fully dressed. Watching her. She
pulled the sheets up to her chin and stared at him.

Max’s eyes were on the sheets. ‘Yeah, let’s talk about that,’ he said. ‘The strapping. The bruises. You said a fall.’

Annie let out a tired sigh and said, ‘All right. I lied.’

‘Oh? Well, there’s a bloody novelty. So what really happened?’

‘Gary had a couple of his boys give me a going-over. All thanks to you.’

‘You what?’

‘You heard. They grabbed me, took me dockside and gave me a kicking.’

‘Gary OK’d this?’

‘He hates me. Always has. It must have made his day, this story that I’d been fooling around with Constantine. Probably thought I’d run away, never to be seen again. But
instead I read his tart Caroline the riot act. So he arranged for me to be taught a lesson. I guess he thought you’d be pleased.’

Max’s face was grim. ‘I’m going to have a fucking word with him. And these two goons of his, do you know them? Can you describe them?’

‘No need,’ said Annie.

‘Why’s that?’

‘Because it’s been taken care of.’

‘By who?’

‘By Constantine. Well, by Alberto really. I expect they’re sleeping with the fishes now – ain’t that what they say? Something like that.’

‘So . . . you’re being watched by the Mafia. Watched
over
.’

‘That’s right.’

‘So he really is your friend.’

‘He really is. In his way.’

‘You don’t sound too sure about that.’

‘It’s complicated,’ she said. ‘But Alberto keeps an eye on me.’

Max stood up, stretched, came over to the bed and sat down on it. ‘So Alberto’s giving the orders now?’

‘I told you. Things have changed. Constantine’s not the man he was.’

‘It all sounds very cosy. You and Constantine, playing cards.’

‘Yeah, it was OK – until he’d start asking after Nico, or thinking I was his sister, or his first wife.’ Annie shook her head. ‘Oh God, what a night it’s
been. What a fucking
day
, come to that. Poor bloody Jackie. What are we going to do?’

Max stared steadily at her face. ‘You know this Dolly thing? You could be fooling yourself with all this bad-past bollocks. It could have been random, it could have been something stupid,
something right here and now.’

‘Like what, for instance?’

‘A punter she turned out. A supplier who tried to short-change her. Who knows?’

‘It’s possible,’ said Annie, looking doubtful. ‘I’m still thinking about Dolly’s brother, the one who gave me the name of the train driver. Arthur Biggs. He
killed himself.’

‘I heard the police gave you a warning.’

‘Yeah. So?’

‘So perhaps this would be a good time to back off, let them handle it.’

Annie was shaking her head. ‘
No
. No way. If I did that, what’s it all been for? Jackie’s dead, it’s my fault, and what’s more he died for no reason –
because I quit? You’re joking. I started this, and I’m damned well going to finish it.’

‘You’re such an obstinate cow.’

‘Hey – you always knew that.’ Annie felt sick, weary, stressed to hell. ‘Max, I’m dog-tired. Let me sleep.’

Max’s eyes locked with hers. ‘Alone?’

Just say you want to stay with me
, she thought. She wanted him so much, but if he still doubted her, if he still thought she was lying over her visits to Constantine, then what was the
point?

‘I’m getting used to it,’ she said, and he didn’t argue. He went through the door that led into the adjoining twin suite and closed it behind him, leaving her alone once
again.

Late next morning she found Max down in the kitchen, in jeans and rolled-up shirtsleeves, staring into the empty fridge. He turned his head as she wandered in, yawning, rubbing
her head, wearing an old short pink silk nightshirt. Sleep had made her feel better, even if it had been patchy. She was still devastated over Jackie’s horrible death and still shaky after
the trauma of it, but she felt a little stronger now.

‘Have I said this before?’ said Max. ‘You’re not very domesticated.’

Annie leaned against the kitchen table and looked at him. ‘Have I said this before? Neither are you.’

‘I’m starving.’

Jesus! Just last night he’d been clearing an old mate’s remains away, now all he could think of was his stomach!

‘There’s a deli down the road.’ Annie went to the built-in espresso coffee machine, part of a big kitchen revamp that had been done years ago. ‘Shit, I never did learn
how to use this thing. Rosa knew how, I don’t.’

‘So no coffee
and
nothing to eat.’ Max shut the fridge door. ‘Perfect. You sleep OK?’

‘Fine.’

She hadn’t. Dreams of Jackie had haunted her, all night. Poor bloody Jackie. She’d woken up often during the night, panicking, half-vomiting with shock and dismay as it all came back
to her. More than anything, she had wanted to go into the adjoining room, to climb into Max’s bed and feel his warmth, his strength, envelop her. But he was still angry, and she could see his
point. She felt bad about the whole Constantine thing; how could she climb into bed with him when she’d done that, deceived him that way?

‘What?’ she asked, when he continued to stand there, staring at her.

‘Nothing.’ Max came over and stood in front of her. For a long moment he just stared at her silently. It was unnerving. Then his hand went to the front of the nightshirt and popped
open a button.

Annie put up a hand in surprise. ‘Wait. Just
wait
. What the fuck happened to the divorce?’

‘It’s on hold,’ said Max.

‘For how long? Until you get the fact that I’m telling the truth through your thick head?’

Max wasn’t listening. ‘How long have you had this? It’s nice. Have I seen this before?’

‘Stop that. I
said
, what about the divorce?’

‘And
I
said, it’s on hold. For the moment,’ he said, and popped open another button.

‘Oh, only for the moment? What the hell’s
that
supposed to mean?’

‘It means what it says,’ said Max, slipping his hands inside the shirt, touching cool naked flesh.

Annie drew in a gasping breath, stirred by his touch yet not wanting to be. Hating him for his power to move her. ‘You’re such a bastard.’

Max stared into her eyes from inches away. ‘You do realize you’re still in the doghouse.’

‘Got that message loud and clear.’

‘I
ought
to kick you to the kerb, keeping secrets like that from me,’ said Max, fiddling with another button until he lost patience and tore it loose from its moorings. It
rolled across the kitchen tiles and
tinked
against the base of a cupboard.

‘Steady,’ said Annie, but her heart was racing and her nipples were hard as rocks. He still wanted her, and oh Jesus, she still wanted him, so much.

‘Steady? Don’t give me “steady”, you cheeky mare,’ said Max, grabbing her hips and lifting her up on to the table. He unbuckled his belt, undid the button on his
jeans. ‘Get the fucking thing off, hurry up.’

Annie pulled the nightshirt off and flung it to the floor. Max’s eyes went again to the bruising at her throat, and to the strapping on her rib and the bruises there, beginning to turn
yellow. Annie lay back on the table with a shaky sigh.

‘Don’t worry about that, I’m all right,’ she said. After all she’d been through, all the horrors of Jackie’s death, and thinking that she could still have
lost Max for good, she
needed
this. Yes, she was mad at him for doubting her. But she was still crazy about him. ‘Hurry,’ she gasped out, and Max did, shoving his jeans down to
free his cock. Annie guided him in eagerly.

‘Christ, that’s good,’ he said, leaning over her, his hands on either side of her head, his hips thrusting in a hard fluid rhythm, fucking her over and over again until she
felt almost delirious with desire.

‘Oh God – Max,’ she moaned, feeling her climax starting to build, her eyes locked with his.

‘Jesus,’ he said, and came, shuddering, just as she did, pumping into her ever more frantically, almost hurtfully, like he really did want to punish her, to make her suffer.

All too soon he pulled out, straightened his clothes, rebuckled his belt. He scooped the nightshirt off the floor and handed it to her as she sat up, dazed from the speed of what had just
happened. He’d made love to her. Maybe everything was not completely lost, after all. She felt a tiny twinge of what could almost be hope.

‘Come on then,’ said Max brusquely, turning away from her. ‘Get dressed, we’ll eat out. After that, I’m going over to have a word with Gary, if he’s
back.’

‘Can I come?’ asked Annie, thinking that Max’s tone of voice was telling her that she wasn’t completely forgiven, not yet. But it was a start. And if he was going to give
Gary the right royal bollocking he so richly deserved, she wanted a front-row seat for
that
event.

‘Why not?’ asked Max.

After breakfast in a local greasy spoon, Max drove them over to the Blue Parrot, but Gary wasn’t there.

‘He is back, though. Probably with that bird of his at her place, the Palermo,’ said one of the cleaners sniffily.