The Driver (32 page)

Forty minutes later, during which time he hadn’t stopped talking, the man eased to a stop on the hard shoulder and sighed.

‘This do you?’

‘Yeah, it’s great,’ Daz said, able to speak now that he was warm. Unbuckling his seat belt, he made as if to open his door. Then, twisting around, he slammed his elbow into the man’s overactive mouth before throwing an arm around his neck.

‘Wallet,’ he snarled.

Blood pouring from his split lip, the man tugged his wallet out of his pocket and handed it over without argument. But there was a comical mix of shock and betrayal in his eyes, a disbelief that Daz had turned on him after they’d had such a great conversation.

Daz emptied the wallet and tossed it onto the floor. Then, spotting the man’s phone plugged into the cigarette-lighter socket, he wrenched out the charger lead and jumped out of the car before running up the grass verge and disappearing before the man had a chance to recover his wits and think about chasing him.

Slowing to a walk, he glanced back and saw the car tearing back onto the motorway. He smirked to himself. Served the cunt right for being so trusting.

Still fuming about the way he’d been so unceremoniously warned to leave town after having gone to so much trouble to help Eddie out, Daz slid the man’s phone open and dialled 999.

He told the operator to connect him to the police and waited until an officer came on the line. Then he said, ‘Just thought you might like to know that Eddie Quinn is about to kill one of your lot. That’s
Eddie Quinn
,’ he repeated slowly to make sure that the man had got it. ‘And the copper’s name is Joe. And they both live on the Grange estate in Ardwick. But I’d hurry if I was you ’cos it won’t be the first time Eddie Quinn has offed someone.’

Disconnecting the call when the officer asked for his name, Daz tossed the phone into the grass and carried on walking. But he had a spring in his step now, and a smile of satisfaction on his lips.

No second chances for me, eh, Eddie? Well, none for you neither, you cunt!

29

Cheryl didn’t usually set off until around nine, but she left the flat at seven this morning because her mum had asked if she could take Frankie to his playgroup. Which was fine by Cheryl because she had a ton of washing to do and had promised to pop in to see Molly before lunch. And then she’d arranged to meet up with Vee for a spot of retail therapy – albeit only of the window-shopping variety because, as usual, she was flat broke.

She took the lift up to the fourth floor to get Molly’s cat out of the way before she set off and frowned when she reached into the plant pot to find the key lying flat under a thin layer of soil. She always shoved it in point down and made sure that it was well covered. But if somebody had found it and used it to break in, would they really have bothered to put it back?

Telling herself that it was more likely that she’d been more careless about it than usual yesterday because she’d been in a rush, Cheryl unlocked the door and wheeled the pram into the hallway. But immediately she was in, the hairs on the back of her neck began to bristle. She’d been coming in here for weeks and had come to recognise the strange atmosphere that was unique to an empty home: the stillness of the undisturbed air, the lack of fresh body odour. But it felt different today, and there was a faint perfumy scent in the air.

She whispered at Frankie to stay quiet and crept down the hall to take a peek into the living room. At first glance everything appeared to be as she’d left it. But then Cheryl noticed that the curtains had been drawn almost all the way across, and she knew then that somebody had definitely been here because she only ever came during daylight hours and had never touched the curtains.

And where was the cat?

Cheryl went into the kitchen, her frown deepening as she looked around for the animal. By now it would usually be sitting by its bowl, giving her dirty looks as it waited for its food. But it was nowhere to be seen. And there was a cup that hadn’t been there yesterday, standing upside down on the draining board.

Cheryl wondered if Molly had discharged herself from hospital and come home without telling her. It seemed like the most logical explanation but she wouldn’t relax until she knew for sure. So, easing the cutlery drawer open, she slid out a knife. Gripping it firmly and holding it out in front of her, she went back out into the hall and peeked into the bathroom before going to the bedroom.

The door was slightly ajar, and when she neared it she heard the soft sound of breathing coming from inside.

‘Molly?’ she whispered, pushing the door open and approaching the bed on tiptoe. ‘What are you doing coming home without . . .’ Trailing off when she saw the dark hair on the pillow, she gasped. Then, anger replacing the shock, she yelled, ‘Oi, what the hell are you doing in here?’ Seizing the blanket, she yanked it off, her fury increasing when she saw who was lying beneath it. ‘You cheeky bitch!’

Katya’s eyes flew open and she gazed up at Cheryl in horror.

‘How
dare
you break in here and make yourself comfortable like this!’ Cheryl yelled. ‘Get out!’

‘Please, you’ve got it all wrong,’ Katya spluttered, scrabbling to sit up without squashing the cat that was curled up beside her. ‘I-I didn’t break in. I used the key.’

‘And that makes it all right, does it?’ Cheryl snorted. ‘Well, let’s see if the police think it’s all right, shall we?’ She pulled her mobile out of her pocket.

‘No, please, wait! You don’t understand,’ Katya cried. ‘Joe . . .’ Trailing off when she realised what she’d said, she clamped her mouth shut and gazed up at Cheryl wide-eyed.

Narrowing her own eyes, Cheryl said, ‘What’s Joe got to do with this?’

Katya shook her head. Then, dropping her feet down to the floor, she reached for her boots. ‘I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have come here. I’ll go.’

‘Oh no, you won’t,’ Cheryl said firmly, standing between her and the door to stop her from leaving. ‘Not until you’ve told me exactly what you’re doing here, and what Joe’s got to do with it. How do you even know him, anyway?’

Katya sighed and clasped her hands together, gripping them between her knees. ‘I can’t tell you,’ she said quietly. ‘Please, just accept that it is better that you don’t know and let me go.’

‘No chance.’ Cheryl shook her head. ‘You either tell me or you tell the police – your choice.’

‘I can’t,’ Katya insisted, tears sliding down her cheeks now.

‘Right, fine,’ Cheryl snapped. ‘I’ll just go and ask Joe, then.’

‘No!’ Katya blurted out. ‘Leave him out of this. Please, I’m begging you. You don’t understand how dangerous this will be for him.’

Cheryl breathed in deeply and stared down at her. ‘All right, I won’t get Joe. But only ’cos he’s my friend and I don’t want you dragging him into whatever mess you’ve got yourself into. But I still want to know what’s going on, or I
will
call the police.’

Katya squeezed her eyes shut and nodded. ‘Okay, but will you let me go when I’ve told you?’

‘I’ll decide that when I’ve heard what you’ve got to say,’ Cheryl said, folding her arms. ‘So come on – let’s have it.’

Taking a deep breath, Katya told her everything.

When she’d finished, Cheryl sat down on the bed beside her with a deep frown on her face.

‘So, you’re telling me that Joe’s been coming to see you for weeks? And you’re the one who phoned the ambulance for Chrissie last night?’

‘Yes.’ Katya nodded.

‘But if you and your friends had just escaped, why would you come back?’ Cheryl asked. ‘I can’t believe anyone would be that stupid. Not if it was as bad as you reckon.’

‘I had to,’ Katya insisted. ‘She was hurt. And then I couldn’t get away because the police were everywhere.’

Cheryl struggled to get it straight in her mind. It sounded like some kind of novel, and she wasn’t sure whether she believed a word of it. She’d known Eddie for years and knew that he was a lot of things – but a vicious
pimp
? That just didn’t sit right with her at all. He might be violent with other men, but she’d never seen him touch a woman in anger like that. And she couldn’t believe that Chrissie would allow him to mess about with other women like that, either, never mind with
prostitutes
. And yet this girl was claiming that Chrissie had known all along, and had actively participated in their imprisonment.

‘Do you see now why I need to leave?’ Katya asked quietly.

‘It’s broad daylight,’ Cheryl reminded her. Then, sighing softly, she stood up and said, ‘Look, just stay put. I’m going to have a word with Joe.’

‘No, please don’t,’ Katya implored.

‘If he’s helping you like you claim he is, then he needs to know I’ve found you,’ Cheryl told her. ‘It’s all very well you being here but you obviously can’t stay. And if you’re telling the truth about Eddie, Joe needs to get you out of here before Eddie finds out. And he will, because he’s got eyes and ears everywhere.’

‘I don’t want to cause Joe any more trouble,’ Katya protested, crying softly again. ‘He’s been too kind already.’

‘Too right he has,’ Cheryl muttered, a little jealous that Joe had spent so much time with the girl, and that he obviously cared enough about her that he would put himself in danger with Eddie to protect her.

But she really needed to speak to him about it, find out what was going on from his point of view – and remind him what would happen if Eddie found out.

‘I’ll be back as soon as I can,’ Cheryl said decisively, heading for the door.

Joe didn’t answer when she knocked, so she started calling through the letter-box flap instead.

After a few minutes Kettler came out and informed her that Joe had gone out last night and hadn’t returned yet.

‘And I would appreciate if you didn’t yell like a fishwife in future,’ he added tetchily. ‘I’ve already had a disturbed night, thanks to him and that friend of his making an unholy racket in the early hours.’ He cast a disapproving glance at Carl’s door. ‘When you see them, perhaps you could tell them that I’ve had just about enough of it and shall be calling the police if it happens again.’

‘Get a life!’ Cheryl snarled. Then, smiling tartly, she said, ‘Oh, but I forgot, Joe
is
your life, isn’t he? You know every move he makes, don’t you, you freak?’

‘I don’t think there’s any call for that,’ Kettler retorted indignantly.

‘Well,
I
don’t think there’s any call for sending stupid letters making up lies about your neighbours,’ Cheryl spat back angrily. ‘So just fuck off back to your fantasy world and keep your nose out of everybody else’s business!’

Snorting with disgust when Kettler went back inside and slammed his door, Cheryl marched over to Carl’s flat.

Mel’s hair was all over the place when she finally answered the door, and her dressing gown was crooked so Cheryl could see almost everything.

‘What do you want?’ Mel demanded, peering out through bleary eyes.

‘Where’s Carl?’

‘You tell me,’ Mel said huffily. ‘Probably still at his mum’s, sulking.’

‘No, he came back yesterday,’ Cheryl told her. ‘He didn’t have his keys, so he was waiting for you to let him in. Haven’t you seen him?’

‘Nope.’ Mel shook her head and yawned. ‘That it? Can I get back to bed now?’

‘Yeah, whatever,’ Cheryl muttered, thinking that if it was
her
man she’d be a bit more concerned about where he’d spent the night. But then, Mel had probably guessed that he’d been with Joe, because the two of them had been pretty much joined at the hip since they’d been working together.

‘Wanna see nana,’ Frankie piped up just then, banging his feet on the pram wheels. ‘Nana, nana.’

‘All right, we’re going,’ Cheryl said, pushing him towards the lift. The girl in Molly’s place would just have to wait until she got back.

She’d just entered the lift and pressed the button for the ground floor when the stairwell door opened and a man in a suit walked hurriedly across the landing, followed by two uniformed police officers. Stabbing the button to reopen the door when it began to slide across, Cheryl popped her head out in time to see them knocking on Joe’s door. Almost immediately, Kettler rushed out of his flat.

‘I’m the one who made the call,’ he informed them with a pious look on his face. ‘It’s me you need to speak to. Phillip Kettler.’

Incensed now, Cheryl bundled Frankie’s pram right back out of the lift.

‘Whatever he’s told you, it’s a lie,’ she blurted out. ‘Joe’s nowhere near as loud as he makes out. He’s just got it in for him because Joe doesn’t want to be his friend. No one does,’ she added, flashing Kettler a spiteful glare. ‘Look through your records – you’ll see Joe’s not the first neighbour he’s harassed.’

‘How dare you,’ Kettler spluttered, his face reddening as his weird staring eyes almost popped out of their sockets. ‘This is no concern of yours – it’s a private matter between myself and the officers.’

The suited man held up his hands to shut them both up. Then, passing a key to one of the uniforms, he turned back to Kettler and said, ‘Could you please go back inside, sir.’

‘But I’m the one who called you,’ Kettler protested, his gaze flitting towards the uniform, who had opened Joe’s door with the key and was entering the flat.

‘If you did, I’m not aware of it,’ the man informed him. ‘But I’m sure more officers will be dispatched to talk to you shortly, so if you wouldn’t mind . . .’ He waved an authoritative hand towards Kettler’s door.

Kettler stiffened visibly but did as he’d been told.

Cheryl was nervous now. If the police weren’t here because of Kettler, why
were
they here? And how come they had let themselves into Joe’s flat like that? Was he in some kind of trouble? Was he being raided?

She backed away, hoping to slip back into the lift so that she could get away and ring Joe to warn him. But the lift door had closed, and by the time she’d pressed the button to reopen it the man had turned around.

‘Just a moment, miss . . . I’d like a quick word.’

‘About what?’

‘You wouldn’t happen to be Cheryl, would you?’ Guessing that he was right when a cagey look leapt into her eyes, he gestured towards Joe’s open door. ‘Could you just step inside for a moment, please?’