The Edge of Sanity (24 page)

Had before.

Would again.

Learning what made Danny Boy tick was an amusing diversion, but also necessary. Kept his cards close to his chest, Daniel did, but Charlie was determined the stubborn bugger would show his hand before the game was over. The man was either a coward, or too clever by half. And Charlie couldn’t abide clever sods.

He’d find the bloke’s weak points, and then take great pleasure in bringing him to his knees. Had a massive bruise, he did, where
Daniel
had pushed his luck and rammed the gun into him, back at the house. Nobody messes with Charlie Roberts’ finely honed physique and gets away with it.

Getting bored with these bloody locks, as well, he was.

Charlie sighed and reached for his cigarette roller. He skinned up, wondering what else he could do to amuse himself, took a long tout on his spliff, then turned to relieve himself over the back of the boat while he pondered.

Well, well—he caught Daniel’s glance sideways in his peripheral vision—that got Danny Boy’s attention.

‘Whatsamatter?’ Charlie grinned lewdly, zipped up slowly, took the joint from his mouth and blew a fat cloud of smoke over Daniel. ‘Fancy a bit, do you?’

Daniel tightened his grip on the tiller and rammed the throttle full forwards, clearing the barely open top-gates by a whisker.

Gotchya. Charlie smirked smugly.

****

Jo glanced nervously at Steve, who’d least had the good manners to help with the gates.

‘He’ll be all right.’ Steve answered her unasked question, with an awkward shrug.

‘Will he?’ Jo ventured to ask, Steve appearing to have a scrap of humanity, at least. Was it possible, she wondered, noting something near compassion in his eyes, that he might not be an entirely willing participant in this?

‘Yeah,’ Steve said, as he heaved the lock gate closed behind the boat. ‘He’s winding him up, that’s all. Charlie’s like that. Likes to get people’s measure, he says.’

Before going in for the kill, Jo thought bitterly.

‘He’ll be okay, as long as he doesn’t react and do anything stupid.’

Well he would be all right then, Jo tried to convince herself. Daniel wasn’t the reactive sort. At least he hadn’t been.

****

Kayla waited for Jo and Steve to close the gates, before walking on to the next lock. She’d been watching them, angry with her mum at first. What was she doing, sucking up to
him
? Then she’d listened.

And learned.

And Steve was talktoable, Kayla had realised. He might deal drugs, but he didn’t
do
drugs, like that crackhead freak she’d actually fancied.

If they could get him on their side, then maybe … Yes, her mum wasn’t so daft, was she? The Neanderthal Hannah fancied
was
worth sucking up to.

What was it he’d called Hannah? A tart. Got it into his head that she was putting it about, even though she worshipped the ground he walked on, for some unfathomable reason. An idea put there by Charlie, no doubt, who didn’t care about anyone but number one, and where his next fix was coming from. Well, Kayla would put Steve right on that particular subject, for starters. Driving a wedge between him and Charlie might be to their advantage.

She’d talk to her mum about it, Kayla decided, mopping her sweat-sodden hair from her face as Jo approached.

Jo offered her a small smile. ‘Take the coat off, Kayla,’ she urged her. ‘It’s sweltering.’ Jo wrapped an arm around Kayla’s shoulders and the two walked on ahead of Steve. ‘The tee-shirt’s plenty baggy enough, hon.’

‘Uh-uh.’ Kayla shook her head adamantly. No way was the coat coming off. She’d expire first.

Jo sighed and handed her the bottle of water she’d bought from the boat.

Kayla took a grateful swig, and then indicated Steve behind them.

Jo nodded.

Kayla nodded in turn, and passed the water to Steve, who was sweating like a pig in the heat.

****

Half an hour later, Jo heaved the windlass to a position where she could better use her bodyweight to open the paddles.

‘Ugh!’ She groaned with exertion, but still the mechanism refused to budge.

‘Here, let me,’ Steve said, hastening back from the top gate to assist.

‘Blimey, it really is stuck, isn’t it?’ He wiped his forearm across his sweat-beaded brow. ‘And people do this for fun? Must be mental,’ he grumbled, and applied his thickset frame to the task again.

Jo stood back, grateful for his assistance, but tempted to kick his big bulk into the lock, nevertheless. She looked across to Kayla who, struggling with the paddle on the other side of the lock, looked as if she might succumb to heat exhaustion any minute.

Dammit, she needed to get that waterproof off, before she passed out.

Jo decided to lead by example and remove her own sweatshirt, which she’d kept on over her tee-shirt, for much the same reason Kayla had kept on her coat.

Jo clutched at the tails of the sweatshirt and hoisted it mid-waist.

Then tugged it up, over her head.

And Daniel reeled on his feet.

He watched, his heart constricting in his chest, as the psycho’s eyes slid appreciatively over the flat of Jo’s stomach, then lingered over the soft curve of her breasts.

Jesus, Jo, don’t … Daniel willed her not to, as she reached up to gather her hair into an unruly knot, revealing two inches of flesh between her jeans and tee-shirt, which Charlie wasn’t slow to notice.

Christ
. Daniel prayed hard, his resolve to try and remain detached whatever damage was inflicted on him, dissolving.

‘Don’t even consider it,’ he grated, as Charlie turned to give him a slow, but meaningful smirk.

‘Yerwhat?’ Charlie blinked, feigning surprise. ‘Blimey, it speaks.’

‘If you lay so much as a finger on her,’ Daniel said, a warning edge to his voice, ‘
you’re—
’

‘What!?’ Charlie, who’d been ledged on the rail at the back, shot to his feet. ‘What, am I, hey, Danny Boy? Dead, is it?’

Daniel didn’t answer, but he kept his eyes locked on Charlie’s.

‘Because this …’ Charlie snarled, aiming his sawn-off ‘ … says
you
are, if you don’t watch your lip. And don’t bloody eyeball me either!’ He gave Daniel a poke in the shoulder. ‘Got it!?’

Daniel held his gaze. He wasn’t so sure he could hold his temper.

‘I do what I want, and
who
I want, if I want,’ Charlie said, his voice low and menacing as Daniel kept right on looking at him. ‘And if
you
don’t do what I want, I just might do
you
, Danny Boy. Get my drift?’

‘I see you do.’ Charlie laughed as Daniel looked away, disgusted.

Chapter Sixteen

DI Short patted his rumbling stomach, eased himself into his car and chewed hungrily on an indigestion pill. Where the hell
was
the little scumbag, he thought agitatedly. They’d trawled a net over the city, but Charlie had slipped through it. The visit to the local schools had produced nothing but bittersweet memories of blissful youth. Hours he’d sat on school chairs, and all he’d got for his efforts was a pain in the backside, which was exactly what Charlie Roberts was.

DI Short was feeling miffed. One way or another, he was going to find Charlie, bang him up, and rid the world of that parasitic little lowlife.

If he had the slightest clue where to start looking next, that was.

More legwork was called for, he supposed. DI Short blinked bleary eyes in the rear view mirror and started the engine. Charlie hadn’t been hospitalised or died of an overdose, more was the pity. DI Short had done the rounds. No Charlie Roberts, or aliases answering the description, taking up bed space better reserved for human beings.

He was out there. And if it took a fortnight of no sleep and a high cholesterol diet, DI Short
would
find him.

****

Jo stopped dead. An arm extended to prevent Kayla venturing further, she stared, disbelieving.

Charlie was sitting on the back of the boat, carefully drawing gloop from a spoon into a syringe. He eyed her disinterestedly, calmly tightened the band around his arm, tapped up a vein, and injected. Right there in broad daylight, and in front of her daughter, the sick animal.

Jo steeled herself and stepped on board ahead of Steve. ‘Where’s Daniel?’ she asked.

Charlie didn’t answer.

‘What you doin’?’ Steve bowled past Jo, incredulous. ‘You freakin’ lunatic.’ He snatched up the syringe and tossed it into the canal. ‘You’ll screw everything up, injecting that stuff.’

‘Oh, man, lighten up.’ Charlie smiled languidly, obviously succumbing to whatever he’d injected. ‘I’m on top of it, okay?’ He tightened his grip around the gun, and settled back on deck, looking for all the world as if he were on holiday, about to soak up the sun.

‘Dickhead,’ Steve muttered, as Jo squeezed past him into the boat, closely followed by Kayla.

‘Daniel?’ Jo called apprehensively, walking the length of the boat to the bathroom—to find Daniel clutching the sides of the sink.

‘Daniel …!’ Oh, God. Jo stepped hastily inside. He was bleeding. ‘The bastard!’ Her heart constricted as she realised Daniel was actually spitting blood.

‘It’s okay.’ Daniel ran the cold tap full force and shakily splashed water over his face. ‘I’m okay,’ he insisted, glancing past Jo to where Kayla was standing, ashen-faced outside the door.

Jo got the message and turned to usher Kayla away, but she’d already fled, to crawl into the side berth and curl up like a ball. Jo squeezed into the small space beside her, placed an arm around her daughter, tried to still her rocking to and fro, and found herself rocking silently with her.

‘I’m so sorry, Mum,’ Kayla murmured.

Jo pulled her close, stroking her hair. Something she hadn’t done in a long time. She wiped away a tear as Daniel came from the bathroom.

He gave her a reassuring nod, trying to indicate he really was all right, Jo knew. She didn’t need the dark shadows in his eyes to tell her he was anything but.

‘Another shirt bites the dust.’ Daniel managed a smile, but winced as he bent to retrieve a clean one from Jo’s hastily packed supply.

Turning away, he peeled off his shirt, then quickly tugged on the new one. But not before Jo glimpsed the ugly blue-black map adorning his side. She turned her gaze to where Charlie descended the steps stern-end, grinning inanely, but still clutching his gun, and Steve close behind him. What would he be without the gun? Nothing. Take away his courage and his loathsome drugs and he’d crawl on the floor like the vermin he was.

She encouraged Kayla to snuggle down into the berth, pulling the duvet over her and hoping she might drift off, then made her way carefully to where Steve stood, dragging a hand over his silly shaved head.

Jo faced him full on. ‘Why are you doing this?’ she asked bluntly. She’d had a bellyful of tiptoeing around.

Steve looked blank, then embarrassed, then down.

‘Why are you letting
him
do this?’ Jo ploughed on, glancing angrily at the animal, slumped comfortably on the sofa in the saloon area. ‘Why don’t you act like a man instead of a little lap-dog and make him stop!?’

‘Whoa,’ Charlie slurred, leaning precariously forwards, gun swaying dangerously. ‘Shut your trap. And sit down.’

‘And what if I don’t?’ Jo called his bluff. ‘What are you going to do? Shoot me?’

‘Nope.’ Charlie stumbled to his feet, cocked the gun and pointed it at Daniel. ‘I’ll shoot him.’ He shrugged indifferently.

Jo trailed ice-cold eyes over him. ‘You’re
disgusting
,’ she spat.

‘Oh, am I?’ Charlie swayed unsteadily, and moved towards her, but Daniel moved faster.

‘Don’t, Jo!’ he said forcefully, catching hold of her arm, to steer her away as Charlie advanced.

‘That’s right, Jo. Don’t,’ Charlie repeated. ‘Be a good little wife and obey your husband. Because you see, every time you don’t,’ he paused, smiled, and then turned the gun around to jab Daniel in the ribs, ‘he gets it.’

Steve flinched, but Daniel fought hard not to. His fingers dug into Jo’s arm, holding her still.

Holding himself upright.

Daniel felt Jo’s arm tense, saw her ball her fist at her side.

Don’t. Please God don’t, was all he could think, as he waited for the pain to subside.

Jo raked her hair from her face and nodded. Body language indicating surrender, Daniel knew, but her eyes …? Jo couldn’t help her eyes. They searched the animal’s twisted face, full of loathing.

‘And you’ll get yours later, darlin’,’ Charlie assured her. ‘Now, go and do something useful and get some grub.’ He dismissed her with a derisive sneer as he sprawled once again on the sofa.

‘Move it!’ he snapped, as Jo walked slowly towards the galley.

‘And you, do something with that bleedin’ telly.’ He looked at Daniel, and then nodded at the blank, buzzing screen of the TV he’d flicked on. ‘It’s givin’ me a headache.’

Daniel raked a hand through his hair. He was fast reaching the limit of his endurance, he knew it. And Jo … Jo stood in the kitchen, her back straight and her hands trembling as she fought to control her emotions and actually cook for the twisted piece of scum.

Christ
. He glanced at Charlie, lolling before him, his eyes hazing over. Could he get hold of that gun before the bastard aimed it, he wondered? Before the troglodyte he’d got in tow, got to him?

No chance. To try would be suicide when he could barely move and Steve was only three strides away. Daniel ran his hand over his neck, rather than his aching side, and headed for the steps.

‘Where’re you goin’?’ Charlie sat bolt upright, trigger finger poised. ‘I told you to move when
I
said so.’

‘You just did,’ Daniel reminded him wearily. ‘The TV?’

‘Huh?’ Charlie eyed him quizzically.

‘The aerial needs adjusting,’ Daniel pointed out. ‘It’s on top of the boat … where aerials usually are.’

‘Yeah, right.’ Charlie nodded. ‘Do it. And don’t get cocky, or else,’ he warned. ‘Go with him Steve.’

Steve obliged, reluctantly, Daniel suspected. Contempt on a scale of one-to-ten, the look Steve had just given his
mate
was a good eleven.