The Visitor (#3 - The Craig Modern Thriller Series) (25 page)

The music was thumping loudly through Sarajevo’s open doors, and some of the waiting crowd were dancing, the warm night adding to their good mood. The queue’s occupants hinted at a dress code of drag or high-end clubbing.

“Jesus Rory, we’re gonna stick out somethin’ wild in there. Its al’ weemen.”

“Na we won’t, we’re dead-on. Look at them lads at the back.”

He pointed to a group of men dressed as Clones, in matching black leather and chains. Others beside them sported tight t-shirts and tanned, shaved heads. He indicated Coyler’s leather jacket and his own shaved pate, laughing. “We look just like them gay-boys. See.”

“You speak for yerself, Gloria.”

They dropped their wrists together, snorting as they drove around the corner. Then found a place high-up on a kerb, parking as far into the darkness as possible.

Coyler’s attempts at mincing made McCrae’s even worse, and by the time they reached the club they were hanging on to each other, laughing hard. The door-men smiled at them, ‘young love’, and waved them into the club’s dark interior.

“Don’t go wandrin’ off on me, McCrae, ar I’ll fuckin’ well kill you. An’ I’m not goin’ anywhere near the bogs on me own.”

McCrae laughed at him. ”Don’t be such a ganch, Coyler. Here, some of them lezzies is wild pretty. It’s like bein’ in McDanalds on a hunger strike. What a shockin’ waste of weemen, when al’ they need is a good man like me.”

Beth was standing ten feet ahead of them now, handing Janey’s jacket to the cloakroom drag queen. Then they headed into the bar, where Coyler recognised the music as ’80’s disco.

“At least I know some of this stuff, not like that thumping shite the kids listen to at the centre. One of them called it trance music. It was more like a bloody coma.”

“Never you mind the music, just don’t let them outta yer sight.”

Beth was already at the bar, ordering, watching the bartender showing off like Tom Cruise in ‘Cocktail’. Janey came up behind her, putting her arms around her waist. “Could you get me a beer please, babe?” Beth leaned back and kissed her cheek. “Sure, but go and mind the seats. We’ll be standing for hours if we lose those.”

“We’re not sitting down all night! DJ Marius is on and he’s brilliant. We’re going to be boogieing, girl.” She demonstrated her intentions by dancing her way back to their seats. Beth smiled fondly after her and then turned back to watch the bartender’s show.

McCrae nodded Coyler to keep an eye on Janey while he slipped into place at the bar, two people down from Beth. Now that he knew which drinks were hers, the next bit was easy. He watched as Beth’s cocktail was poured from the shaker, and placed beside the cold bottle of beer on the bar. While she reached into her bag for money, McCrae moved quickly. He deliberately knocked over the drink belonging to the girl beside her, so that it drenched both of their feet. Beth jumped back and turned to see what had caused the spill. Then she helped the girl, just as McCrae knew she would.

As she bent to fetch a hanky from her bag, he leaned over, dropping roofies into both of her drinks, slickly and unseen. Just as he’d done so many times before. Then he slipped away, unnoticed in the dark bar. Even if they’d used a drug dye, it was hard to see anything in this light. They were going to drink it all down, he was sure of it.

He swaggered over to where Coyler was leaning against the wall. “That’s them al’ done. Now, let’s sit back an’ watch the fireworks.”

It didn’t take long for the drugs to take effect. Within minutes, Janey was pulling at Beth’s arm and dragging her onto the empty dance floor. They both weaved like they’d had a skin-full, and after five minutes frenzied dancing Beth staggered out towards the ladies, where Coyler was already waiting beside the door. McCrae followed, ready to lift her quickly off to the car. Just as Beth reached the toilets, she met a girl she knew and started spouting rubbish.

“Beth, I don’t know what you’re on, but it’s a bit early to be talking crap isn’t it? Is Janey out there?”

“Yes, yes, dancing – we’re all dancing.”

“OK, I’ll catch you later.” Coyler saw the girl look back at Beth concerned, and he hurried over as she passed McCrae.

“We’d better shift, McCrae. From the way she looked, she’ll be draggin’ the other one out here any minute.” Just then Beth entered the ladies’ toilets.

“For fuck’s sake, Coyler. You shuda caught her before she got in.”

They didn’t have to worry. Beth was hardly in before she came out again, ricocheting off a wall. She swerved her way past Coyler, out through the fire door and into the stairwell for some air. Perfect.

They followed her quickly, and with one hand over her mouth and an arm under her knees, they grabbed her. McCrae started urgently down the stairwell, as fast as the steep stairs allowed without dropping her. Tommy wouldn’t like the goods damaged.

“Tommy sed she wasn’t to be hurt till he sezz so.”

“Aye, aye. Just shut-the-fuck-up an’ move. I’ve done this before you know.”

The stairwell was deserted and they reached street level in under a minute. Then without warning, the fire door above them flew open, and a woman’s high-pitched scream ripped through the air. “Beth, Beth. Leave her alone you bastards, leave her alone.”

Janey flew down the stairs towards them, jumping on McCrae’s back and clawing his face with her nails. “Fuck, you wee bitch. Fuck off.”

His forearm crashed back, splitting Janey’s lip, and her blood flooded his sleeve. Then he turned and kicked her legs out, fist raised to punch. Just then a sight he never wanted to see again greeted him. The fire door had re-opened as he’d thrown Janey off, and two men were jumping over the stair well. Both were big, and one of them was wearing full make-up and a dress!

“Fuck...drop her Coyler, an’ leg it.”

They dropped Beth hard onto the concrete floor and pushed through the fire-door, running fast, one of their pursuers hindered by the heels he wore. Disappearing quickly into the gloom, they slipped into a derelict shop, staying hidden in the darkness for over twenty minutes.

Their pursuers re-entered the club, returning quickly with the bouncers. The posse walked up and down Donegall Street searching every doorway and alley, until eventually the search felt fruitless. They gave up just as an ambulance appeared.

McCrae spotted the cover and they ran behind it to their parking space. Then he raked the car into reverse down Donegall Street. Screeching off towards Clifton Street, they hungrily lit cigarettes and sucked on them like oxygen.

“Oh shit...they’ll call the Pigs. Tommy’s gonna kill us...He’ll fuckin’ do for us both. You’d better ring him an’ tell him what’s happened, McCrae. This was your idea.”

“Fuck! Are you mad? I’m not gonna tell him we got chased by a bloke in a dress! Fuck away off. You can tell him if you want to but I’m away to the Elm for a pint an’ a woman. That’s gonna give me nightmares for a year, that is. A bloke in a fuckin dress! I need a reel woman, right now. An’ if you ever tell anyone what happened here the night, Coyler, I’ll fuckin’ kill you. Sure as shit I will.”

Chapter Twenty

By one in the morning Gerdy’s car was outside Stranmillis station, one officer studying its tax disc as another walked around it, scanning for faults. Tommy ignored them and sat in the passenger seat chain-smoking, until Craig nodded to let them go.

They pulled off at a scorch, heading for town, and Tommy quickly turned on his mobile. There were two messages. McCrae - they were tailing the nurse to the Sarajevo Club. What a picture, them two with the gay-boys. The second message was to ring Gerdy back, so he turned to his driver.

“An’ what did you hav to say, Gerdy?”

“Tommy, that wee shite Murray’s legged it.”

“What do you mean legged it?”

“He took off on the Larne-Cairnryan ferry a couple af hours ago. Musta heard you was mad at him, an’ knew what come next.”

“Spineless wee shite, not even hangin’ round for the funeral. An’ what about his kid? Well he’d better stay away for good, or till I’m dead anyway, ‘cos I’m gonna do for him.”

He took a therapeutic drag on his cigarette and exhaled, dismissing Murray instantly. “Forgit him tonight.”

Then his phone rang again - McCrae. Coyler had convinced Rory McCrae that they’d better tell Tommy about Beth, before the police did.

“What do you want, McCrae?”

Tommy listened in silence as the whole Sarajevo fiasco spewed out. His face got redder and redder until it was purple, and spittle gathered on his chin. His phone hand shook violently and his left hand knotted into a fist, until he finally exploded.

“You fuckin’ eejit, McCrae! Who told you to pick her up? What did I fuckin’ tell you? Just watch her an’ wait for my word. You stupid prick - fuck, fuck, fuck.”

Tommy thought rapidly. “You two dickheads better hide out tonight, an’ be at Windsor for twelve tomara. An’ you’d better make your wills, ‘cos I’m gonna fuckin’ kill the pair of you.”

He slammed the phone hard against the dashboard, until the froth at the side of his mouth finally seeped away and his breathing slowed. Then he turned to glare at Gerdy, who was staring straight ahead rigid with fear. Tommy was a killer and they all knew it.

“McCrae an’ Coyler’ was tailin’ the lezzy an’ they made a fuckin’ bollocks of it. One fuckin’ thing to do an’ they can’t even do that right. Now the Pigs will be after all of us. Fuck, fuck, fuck.” His glare hardened and his low voice sank to a growl. “Did you know about this?”

“God, no - I was chasin’ Murray like you told me. I knew nothin, nothin. Honest to God, Tommy.”

“You’d better not have known, ‘cos if I find out that you did...” He didn’t need to finish the sentence. “Take me home an’ leave me the car. I want you to fally the blonde tomara morning, so nick another one then. I’m tailin’ Murdock again. It’ll be our last chance to see if they’re up to anythin’, cos the Pigs will be pickin’ us all up when the lezzy calls them.”

He sucked angrily on his cigarette and swore under his breath. “McCrae doped her, so she’ll be out for a few hours yet. I reckon we’ve most of tomara before they lift us, so we might as well be done for everythin’. That fucker Murdock’s not getting’ away scot-free. Meet us at Windsor at twelve. You can go back an’ fally the Doc again afterwards.”

His colour changed back to dark red as he thought again of the mess. “I’m fuckin’ gonna kill them both.”

***

The Visitor waited, but by two in the morning Murdock still hadn’t emerged from the hospital. Damn the father, damn all of them. It would have to wait, but only for tonight. He imagined the heady smell of sweat and fresh blood, and the heat rose in him again. With it the urge to cut grew stronger.

Tomorrow he would start. And if not Murdock, then another one of them would bleed. They would all bleed eventually.

***

Craig stayed at the station for a cup of coffee. He was still there at two, chatting with the night shift, when his mobile vibrated with a text. Who was texting him at this hour? Work always phoned him. It was probably a slow delivery from Lucia - it was always happening.

When he saw the name he was surprised. Julia. He was even more surprised by the content, when they’d only had dinner a few hours before. ‘I need to see you urgently.’ No smiley, her usual signature.

A myriad of thoughts flashed through his mind and none of them good. He abandoned his coffee and hurried to his car, for the five-minute journey to his riverside apartment. The light was on as he parked and he ran up the four flights of stairs, searching urgently for his keys. He dropped them noisily and winced, mindful that most people were already asleep, although not in the student streets he’d passed on his journey.

Before he could turn the lock his front door opened, and a small female hand shot out. It grabbed his jacket, pulling him firmly inside. Any fight or flight urges were tempered by the pair of full lips that locked softly onto his, and the long fine fingers stroking through his hair. Julia pulled back, looking at him intensely. Then keeping a firm hold of his hand, she drew him slowly towards the bedroom. Craig opened his mouth to say something, but was silenced with another kiss. The look in her eyes said that she was in no mood for discussion.

She led him into the softly lit bedroom, and with both hands pushed him down hard on his own large bed. Then she deftly removed his shirt and belt, and anything else that impeded her progress. Craig responded by flipping her over until he was looking down at her. Her hands moved slowly over his muscular chest, all the time her eyes saying ‘yes’.

He vaguely noticed music pulsing in the background. It was her favourite singer, Gabrielle. A track he recognised from a few years back, urging sex on the dance floor. She had set the scene, this was what she wanted, and finally she broke her silence. Reassuring him that he wasn’t to hesitate, that she’d been thinking about this since dinner. About his muscular arms, his tight tanned thighs. She
needed this from him. This was her night.

All thoughts of work and worry and Tommy Hill and death instantly left him. All the tension of his father and court dissipated, and he lost himself in her smooth, soft skin as he took control. Leading and following, dominant and submissive, soft and hard and familiar. Until the sky lightened and they finally fell back together, into a deep, restful sleep.