The Front (47 page)

       
Strangely enough, she’d flatly denied being with Simeon Marchant against her will. He obviously had quite a way with women, Jackson supposed, which was presumably why they all felt driven to defend him.

       
She was also adamant that Gerald Grant and Samuel Donaldson had played almost no part in the robbery – and none whatsoever in the shooting. Jackson hadn’t been able to relieve her fears for them, but had told her he thought it unlikely that they would receive long sentences for such minor roles. His instincts told him they were pretty clean and basically decent blokes, and he didn’t think a jury would view them in quite the same light as Naylor and Kenny. Grant and Donaldson might get lucky – this time.

It was going on for six when Suzie stopped at a phone box and called Wendy. By then, she was practically hysterical with guilt and regret, but Wendy was very calm. She said she would sort out a good solicitor for Sam and Ged at nine – but refused to even consider helping Mal and Lee. They would have to take whatever the courts allotted them. She then told Suzie to go home and collect her things and jump in a taxi. She could stay with Wendy for as long as she wanted. And she wasn’t to worry, because she’d done exactly the right thing in telling everything she knew. It was time to start living her own life now.

       
Putting the phone down, Wendy looked down at Melissa and smiled.

       
‘Where were we?’ she cooed softly. ‘Oh, that’s right. Mummy was telling you how precious you are, wasn’t she, sweetheart? How very, very much she loves you. And how very sorry she is for being so horrible to you. But Mummy’s going to make it up to you. And she’s going to make sure Daddy comes home safe and sound. Oh yes, she is  . . .’

       
Melissa snuffled contentedly, reaching tiny fingers to her mother’s lips as she spoke.

When Suzie reached the flat, she was disgusted to find Elaine fast asleep in her bed. She debated whether to wake her and kick her skanky backside out there and then, but decided to wait until she’d gathered together what she’d come for.

       
Making her way silently around the flat, she rooted out not only Mal’s share of the money, but Lee’s too. Stashing it safely in the bottom of her overnight case, she added the few things she wanted to take, then zipped it up.

       
Taking a last look around, she spotted Elaine’s bags sitting by the door. Out of interest, she tipped them up onto the floor. Amongst Elaine’s junk, out fell Suzie’s favourite lipstick, a necklace Mal had bought her when they first got together, a small photo of Mal she’d thought she’d mislaid – and a carefully stashed wad of Lee’s money. Ripping the photo to shreds, she left it there with Elaine’s junk. The rest of the stuff she put into her own bag.

       
Walking into the bedroom with Mal’s bag of coke in her hand, she poured it into Elaine’s sleep-gaping mouth. Elaine woke immediately, choking and spluttering as she tried to spit the powder out.

       
‘What the hell are you doing?’ she screeched, seeing Suzie standing over her with a livid expression on her face. ‘You could have fuckin’ killed me, you stupid bitch!’

       
Suzie shrugged. ‘Thought if you liked it so much, you might as well finish it,’ she said. ‘And it’s the last thing you’re getting out of me! Now get your fucking filthy arse out of my bed and piss off out of my flat before I rip your fucking face off!’

       
Elaine hesitated for just a second, then jumped up and dodged past Suzie and out of the door. She knew better than to argue with a psychopath. And judging by the look on Suzie’s face, that’s what she had to be. It took less than a minute to stuff her things back into her bags and leave.

       
She just hoped that Tommy would take her back without the money.

31

Going back to the office later that morning, Jackson and Mac found the last piece of the puzzle waiting for them on the desk.

       
The dossier of unsolved rapes with the same MO, reported over the last two years.

       
Jackson sat down quickly and threw the thick folder open. The photofit pictures made up from the victims’ descriptions were all there at the top.

       
‘I knew it!’ he said, slamming the photofits down on his desk and spreading them out. ‘Look at that, Mac!’

       
Mac came round and studied the pictures. ‘Bloody hell!’ He hissed out a breath between his teeth. ‘Another result!’

       
‘Better than that,’ Jackson said, grinning. ‘Read the descriptions. What’s the most obvious thing?’

       
‘Weird green eyes,’ Mac read aloud. He looked up and smiled. ‘That’s our boy! Never seen such strange eyes. And look at the rest. Exceptionally good-looking, neat dreadlocks, light-skinned, freckles on the nose . . . It’s him, all right!’

       
‘We’ve finally got the fucker!’ Jackson winked, beaming broadly. ‘Want to come and give him the good news?’

       
‘Wouldn’t miss it!’ Mac said. ‘Boy, that
was
a good night! I reckon we might well be in line for a nice bit of promotion – well, you, anyway!’

       
‘Fingers crossed!’ Jackson said. ‘But I’d take
de
motion if it meant getting this one banged up. Let’s hope the evil little shit’s prepared to take what he’s been giving, eh? Life is a long, long time to play prison wife!’

       
Mac shuddered exaggeratedly. ‘Ooh, it doesn’t bear thinking about, Ted! Come on. Let’s go and wake him up!’

       
‘Why not?’ said Jackson, heading for the door. ‘He might as well get used to the early-morning rude awakenings! Like I always say,’ he grinned, opening the door and stepping out. ‘What goes around  . . .’

       
‘Comes around!’ Mac finished, closing the door behind them.