Truth or Dare (31 page)

T
iny’s henchman grabbed Letisha by the wrist, twisted it hard. She gasped, screamed. With his other hand he applied the pair of pliers he was holding to her little finger. Tiny bent down, picked up something from the pile of clothes he had shed on the floor. A T-shirt. He crossed to Letisha, stuffed it in her mouth. Roughly and hard. She nearly choked, nearly gagged.

‘Don’t want you wakin’ the neighbours,’ Tiny said, then gave the nod to his henchman.

The henchman nodded in response, squeezed the pliers, twisted her finger back at an unnatural angle. Letisha screamed, the T-shirt in her mouth acting as a partial silencer. There was a snapping sound, then he removed the pliers, looked down at his handiwork. Her little finger was hanging uselessly off her hand.

Tiny had been watching the whole thing. He turned to Moses, raised his eyebrows. ‘Enough? Or you want more?’

Moses, chest and shoulders heaving with ill-suppressed rage, was being held in place on the sofa by the other henchman. He stared at Tiny, eyes burning into him, wishing him death. And a painful one at that.

But there was something else in his eyes also. Compassion for Letisha. And fear of what would happen to both of them if he spoke. Or even if he didn’t speak.

Tiny shrugged. ‘No? Oh well.’ He turned back to his henchman who, after being given the nod once more, moved the pliers to the next finger along. He grasped her wrist, twisted once more. Squeezed the handles.

‘Wait,’ shouted Moses. ‘Stop. Please… stop.’

Tiny gave the henchman another nod. He removed the pliers from Letisha’s finger. His face betrayed no emotion, no pleasure, no pain. Like he didn’t care one way or the other whether he hurt her or he didn’t. A flesh-and-bone automaton, doing his master’s bidding.

‘You got something to tell me, Moses?’ asked Tiny, crossing the room, walking slowly towards him. ‘If you don’t…’ He gestured to the henchman once more.

‘Yes,’ gasped Moses. ‘All right. I’ll tell you. I’ll tell you what you want to know. Everything that happened.’

Tiny smiled. ‘Good. Now we’re gettin’ somewhere.’

‘But you let her go, Tiny. You got to let her go.’

Tiny laughed. ‘Look around, bro. Does it look like you’re in any position to be issuin’, like…’ He couldn’t think of the word. It irritated him, he let that irritation show. ‘Just look around you, bro.’

‘Let her go, Tiny,’ Moses said again. ‘She had nothing to do with what happened to your brother. She’s innocent.’

Tiny stared at Letisha as if she was some inferior sub-species. ‘Her? Innocent? She ain’t never been innocent, bro. Not since she was born. She’s a slag. Takes it for money, or, like, the worst kind. Just takes it for fun.’

Moses struggled to keep his anger controlled, his voice calm and even. ‘She’s innocent. Stop hurting her. Let her go.’

Moses was aware of Letisha staring at him, trying to catch his eye, shaking her head at what he was about to say. He looked away from her, at anything in the room but her. He knew what he was about to do. So did she. And she was trying to stop him.

‘I’ll let her go when I’ve heard what you’ve got to say.’

‘Okay then,’ said Moses. ‘I’ll tell you. But it’s not going to be pretty.’

Tiny frowned, suspecting a trick. ‘What you mean?’

‘About Julian. Your brother.’

‘What about him?’

Moses stared at Tiny. Wanting to be listened to, understood. ‘He was a bad man, Tiny. A very bad man. I know you idolised him, grew up thinking he was your hero, but he wasn’t.’

Moses could see that Tiny was getting angry but he continued.

‘He was a monster. Especially to women. Especially to this woman.’ He pointed to Letisha. ‘The things he made her do, the way he used to make her behave… you wouldn’t believe it, man.’

Tiny smiled. ‘I might. Tell me.’

Moses could see from the sick, prurient gleam in Tiny’s eyes that his approach wasn’t going to work. That Tiny seemed to be as bad as his brother had been. But he persisted. ‘A monster, Tiny. A real monster. And she,’ again he gestured to Letisha, ‘didn’t deserve it. She was too good.’

Tiny’s grin persisted. ‘Sounds like you got the hots for her.’

‘I fell in love with her, Tiny.’

Tiny laughed out loud. ‘Oh, bad move, bro. Really bad move.’

‘We don’t plan what we do,’ said Moses. ‘The heart wants what the heart wants.’

Tiny laughed again. Moses knew this wasn’t going the way he wanted it to. Again, he persisted.

‘I fell in love with her, Tiny. That’s not something your brother could ever say about her.’

‘My bro didn’t have to,’ said Tiny, rage building behind his words. ‘He didn’t need to. She was his woman, his property. Man could do with her what he wanted. His right.’

‘No, Tiny, she wasn’t his property. She wasn’t his to do with as he wanted. She’s a woman. A human being. She’s no one’s property. All right, she was his girlfriend when we fell in love, and that was wrong, getting into another man’s territory.’

‘Wrong? You don’t know the half of it, man. Gonna suffer now ’cause of it.’

‘Is that it?’ asked Moses. ‘Can we only be men, can we only be strong, if we’re punishing someone else? Inflicting pain? Trying to hurt someone, own them? Can we?’

Tiny didn’t answer. From his blank expression, Moses’ line of enquiry wasn’t one he had ever considered, nor ever wanted to.

‘Just tell me what you did, Moses. Tell me how you killed him.’

Moses just stared at him, stalling. Trying to formulate a story that Tiny could believe. That would make him let Letisha and him go.

‘Tell me,’ said Tiny, the rage there again in his voice.

‘Hurting someone, owning them, doesn’t make you strong, Tiny. Not really. It makes you weak.’

‘Yeah?’ said Tiny. ‘What makes you strong, then?’

‘Love,’ said Moses simply.

Tiny laughed like it was the funniest thing he had ever heard, howling and guffawing, bending double with his hands on his thighs. ‘Love…’ He shook his head, laughing again.

Eventually, he straightened up, stared at Moses, still laughing. He pointed a finger at him. ‘Man, that bitch got you pussy-whipped good. Real good. Love don’t make you strong, Moses. Look where you are now.’

‘No?’

‘No,’ said Tiny with finality. ‘Just makes you weak.’

Before Moses could reply, Tiny looked at the henchman holding Letisha, gave him a command. ‘Get in the kitchen. Put the gas on.’ He turned to Moses, smiled. ‘Boy’s gonna tell us a story.’

T
he Lawgiver stared at Looker.

‘That wasn’t your sister talking to you,’ said Looker, voice as steady and plain as he could make it. ‘That was your guilt talking.’

‘Bullshit.’ His voice vehement again.

‘It’s not bullshit.’ Looker knew he shouldn’t have continued, should have just agreed with him, but he couldn’t let it go. Had to challenge him. ‘You couldn’t cope with what you’d done to her. To your own sister. So you externalised it. You needed to punish someone and it couldn’t be you. So you came up with the idea of the Lawgiver.’

‘Shut up… shut up…’ The Lawgiver started pacing. Looker was suddenly struck by how small the space was, how near he was to him. ‘Guilt… guilt…’ He turned back to Looker. Eyes wild, mouth white at the edges, spittle-flecked. ‘You think guilt could do everything I’ve done? Everything I’ve achieved? Could guilt choose victims as well as I’ve done? Contact online hacktivists and learn how to hack bank accounts? Plan everything as meticulously as I’ve done? Leave no trace, no sightings, no forensics?’ The Lawgiver shook his head, leaned in close to Looker’s face. ‘That’s not the sign of a guilty mind. A guilty conscience. That’s the sign of revenge. Retribution. Justice.’

‘Or the sign of a sick mind with too much time on its hands,’ said Looker, again unable to stop himself. ‘This isn’t an origin story. You’re not Batman.’

The lawgiver stared at him, breathing hard through his nostrils, eyes unblinking red-hot coals. ‘Shut up,’ he said, and slapped him across the face. Hard.

The force of the blow, unexpected, stung. Looker reeled from it, tasted old pennies in his mouth. He smiled. This was more like it, he thought. Now we’re getting to it.

‘Couldn’t be you,’ said Looker through a mouthful of blood. ‘Just couldn’t be yourself you punished. Had to be everyone else…’

‘Shut up…’ Another slap, even harder this time.

The Lawgiver stood over him. Stared down at him, breathing heavily, teeth gritted. ‘You met Diana last night. Talked to her. Came here with her.’ Then, screaming in his face: ‘Didn’t you?’

‘I met you wearing a dress,’ said Looker.

The Lawgiver straightened up, a stunned expression on his face. ‘You… knew?’

‘Of course I knew. How could I not know? I mean, you were convincing from a distance, you’ve got the figure for it. But close up… Jesus…’ Looker shook his head.

‘No,’ shouted the Lawgiver. ‘It was Diana! Diana! She was helping me again…’

‘You were a bloke in a dress. Admit it. You honestly think you fooled me? Really? If he’d been sitting as close as I was, even Stevie bloody Wonder could have seen that you were a man.’

The Lawgiver’s rage was increasing. He walked backwards and forwards in front of Looker, fists clenching and unclenching all the while. ‘So… so why did you come with me? Hmm? Why did you leave with me if you knew who I was? You knew what would happen.’

Looker sighed. ‘Yeah, I knew. I suppose I knew all along. I was bored. I didn’t come with you because of your great master plan; you got lucky. I was bored.’

‘Bored? How?’

Looker sighed again. ‘Because maybe you’re right. Maybe I do hate what I do. The clients I have to work with. Maybe I wanted to change my life and couldn’t. Maybe I’ve got too much baggage. An ex-wife who hates me, a career that’s going nowhere. I have to keep working just to stand still. Whatever idealism I had has long since gone.’ He fell silent, choosing his next words carefully. ‘Maybe I’m just tired. Sick of my life. Can’t see a way out and I’m too much of a coward to do anything about it.’

The Lawgiver stood there, stared at him, unsure what to say, how to react.

‘So go on,’ said Looker, voice rising, ‘what are you waiting for? Do it.’

No response.

‘You’re going to do it anyway, going to kill me for what you think I’ve done. You’ve already judged me and nothing I can say will change that. I know that now. So do it. Come on, do it now.’

The Lawgiver looked around, trying to find something familiar to settle on, confused at what was happening.

Looker sensed him wavering, kept at him. ‘Come on then, what you waiting for? You’ve got all that guilt swilling around inside you, just ready to take it out on the world. Come on… you killed your sister.’

‘No…’

‘Yes you did. You killed your sister and you want to take your guilt out on me.’

‘No. That’s not true.’

‘Bullshit. You know it is. You’re guilty as fuck. You’re the one who’s been judged. That’s the verdict. You’re guilty.’

‘No…’ Confusion was giving way to anger.

‘Yes you are. That’s exactly what you are. That’s all you are.’

‘No…’ His anger welling now, gathering force within him. Waiting to spill out. ‘I’m not guilty. I’m the Lawgiver.’

‘No you’re not,’ said Looker, letting go with all the force he had bottled up so far. ‘You’re not. You’re just a murdering little fuck-up. But hey, a good lawyer could have got it down to manslaughter for you. You could have afforded that. But no. You decided to go the fuck-up route. The poor-me fuck-up route. How predictable.’

‘Shut up…’ Another slap. Even harder.

The slap was so fierce, the pain so intense that Looker saw stars burst before him. He twisted his head straight, stared at the Lawgiver, smiled. ‘That the best you can do?’

The Lawgiver stared back at him. Unsure whether to give in to his rage or to examine these new feelings further.

‘Well, come on then, what are you waiting for?’ Looker laughed. ‘You guilt-ridden, useless, cross-dressing fucking weirdo…’

That was the trigger. The Lawgiver picked up a wrench from a nearby bench and began bringing it down on Looker with more ferocity than he knew was within him. Screaming all the time.

The blows hurt, the pain beyond anything Glen Looker had experienced before. But with each one that fell, the pain receded. The world around him began to disappear, blackness took over.

Glen Looker closed his eyes. And then he saw something else. The blackness itself gave way. And there before him was the island paradise he had only ever seen in holiday brochures. It looked so welcoming, so reachable.

Happy to be on his way, Glen Looker smiled. Gladly went there.

For ever.

J
essica Elton née Hepburn stood on the tiny balcony of her sister Anni’s flat, sucking down smoke from her cigarette, blowing it out over Colchester. Marina came to join her, mugs of coffee in hand.

‘There you go.’

Jessica nodded her thanks, took the mug. She shook her head slowly, as if to dislodge unpleasant events from it, looked out over the town.

‘You just…’ She drew on her cigarette, let the smoke go, started again. ‘Awful, really. What an awful state of affairs.’

Marina nodded in agreement. Said nothing.

Jessica continued. ‘We knew something like this would happen.’

Marina frowned. ‘Knew?’

Jessica turned to her. ‘Well, you know. Maybe not knew. Suspected. Thought. Feared, I suppose. Frightened. With our mother, when Anni had just joined the police, every time she watched the news and saw something about a police officer having been killed or injured, she would always think it was going to be Anni.’

‘I suppose you do,’ said Marina. ‘It’s natural. My husband’s her boss. Was her boss. I know exactly what you mean.’

‘But you still go on letting him do it.’

‘What choice do I have? It’s what he does, who he is. He’s been in some… tight situations, shall we say. I’ve been with him. And we’ve managed to get out of them.’

Jessica nodded. ‘But Mickey wasn’t so lucky.’ She turned, looked out over the town once more.

‘No,’ said Marina, sighing. ‘He wasn’t.’ She joined Jessica in looking out over the town. ‘I think that all the time. Every time something happens to Phil, or to me. Or Anni… any of the team. We get through. We get lucky. I always think, we dodged a bullet that time. Next time we might not be so lucky.’

‘He wasn’t.’

‘No.’ There was nothing more for her to say.

They stood in silence, looking out, watching the traffic come and go.

‘When I got the call, you know what I first thought?’ said Jessica. She continued, not waiting for Marina to reply. ‘I thought, Oh God. It’s Anni. Something’s happened to Anni.
The worst
has happened to Anni. And then it was Mickey. And you know? You know the awful thing? I thought, Thank God it’s him and not her. Just for a second, a short moment, but I thought it.’ She turned, looked at Marina. Guilt in her eyes. ‘Isn’t that awful?’

‘Don’t worry about it,’ said Marina. ‘She’s your sister. It’s a perfectly natural reaction.’

Jessica turned away once more. Not answering.

More silence.

‘How d’you do it?’ Jessica, still staring outwards. ‘Go through it all, every day? Thinking he might not come home, wondering where he is all the time.’

‘It’s not every day,’ said Marina. ‘I always think that if you can imagine all the things that could go wrong in a day they won’t. That’s not, strictly speaking, a psychologist’s most professional advice, but it’s what I do. It’s just the days you’re not expecting to hear it, when you can’t imagine it. They’re the ones to watch out for.’

‘Hey.’

A voice from behind them. They both turned. Anni had come to join them.

‘Didn’t hear you get up,’ said Jessica, turning, flicking her cigarette butt over the edge and embracing her sister. ‘How you feeling?’

Anni just shrugged.

‘D’you want some coffee?’ said Marina. ‘I’ve just made some.’

Anni shook her head.

‘Okay,’ said Marina. ‘Well, if you change your mind —’

‘Please, Marina. Just… I’m… I need space. That’s all.’ She looked at Jessica. ‘That’s all. I’ve got to come to terms with… process…’ She sighed, on the verge of breaking down once more.

Marina and Jessica exchanged looks. Marina nodded.

‘I’ll go,’ she said.

Anni looked up. ‘I didn’t mean it like —’

‘I know,’ said Marina. ‘I’ll give you some space. Jessica’ll look after you.’

Anni hugged Marina. ‘Thanks. You’ve —’ Tears were threatening once more.

‘Don’t worry. I’ll call you later.’

Marina turned away from the two sisters, made to gather up her belongings and go back to Birmingham. Back to her husband and daughter.

Hoping, following her conversation with Jessica, that it wasn’t going to turn out to be one of those days she couldn’t imagine.