The Choice. Kerry Barnes
The boys were in the pool in just their boxers, which was okay by them. Arty thought, though, that the girls might be a little embarrassed going into the pool wearing only a bra and knickers. But Poppy and Brooke didn’t need asking twice: they stripped off and joined them in a flash.
Enjoying the attention, the girls played around in the infinity pool. Meanwhile, the lads still had the looming threat firmly on their minds and kept ever vigilant. And they had to be even more so now that Poppy and Brooke were with them because they had lived somewhat privileged and sheltered lives, and so they wouldn’t really have a clue how serious this situation was. But their fathers had made it clear that if Torvic showed up, then there was to be no messing about: they were instructed to shoot to kill. It was the first time ever that they’d been told to kill anyone, so they weren’t going to take any chances. It was the day they had to grow up – to step into their fathers’ shoes and to take no prisoners.
Once Mike had been informed that the boys were safe, he knew he would be able to relax a bit. Staffie and Willie continued to make calls, trying to track down Torvic and anyone linked to him. Shamus and Neil had their men covering the restaurants. They would probably be places that Torvic would likely go to find them. Mike, though, hoped his firm would be one step ahead.
By nightfall, there was no news on Torvic’s or his granddaughter’s whereabouts. There was damn all left to do but sleep. Zara and Mike returned to Mike’s house where they tried to rest, but it proved to be an impossible task. Any noise caused them to sit bolt upright. Zara slept very little anyway: she was tossing and turning, thoughts of what she’d done to Torvic’s sons firmly on her mind.
* * *
It was seven o’clock in the morning when Zara arrived at the hangar, which had now been the focus of two macabre episodes in the last decade or so: the demise of some of the Harman family, and, most recently, the deaths of Torvic’s sons.
She shivered as her eyes fell on the two chairs taking centre stage in the secret back room. There, on the floor, lay the abandoned ropes that had been cut by the mystery person coming to the rescue of Torvic and his granddaughter. Bizarrely, everything else had been left untouched. Even the remote device remained on the worktop.
Shamus stood by her side, his jacket lapels turned up, shielding him from the cold breeze that encircled the large open area. He had his hands in his pockets, and his shoulders were slumped. ‘See what I mean, Zara? It’s as if they’ve just vanished. I don’t like it one bit.’
Zara looked over at Mike who was wandering around the room. ‘Someone must have been hiding back there in the bushes with a pair of binoculars and watching the whole fucking drama. All I can say is they couldn’t have been strong-armed because they waited for us to leave before they came to set Torvic free. Which means one of two things: either he had already planned to have someone there that night, believing that I wouldn’t kill him, or one of our own men went back. Me, I think he was one step ahead of us.’
Neil shook his head. ‘I don’t get it, Zara. How could he have been so cocksure you wouldn’t kill him?’
Zara slowly and deliberately turned to face Neil. ‘Because he’s fucking clever, that’s why. He threw me a line that I would go for, and, stupidly, I took the bait – hook, line, and sinker. He knew I needed information and putting out that Barak was the main supplier was a clever ploy on his part. He shrewdly guessed that name would have me determined for a meeting. He knew about the past; the bastard knows everything, including how to fucking play me. Jesus, how could I have been so gullible? Of course it’s not Barak who supplied him with the drugs. He threw that in there to secure his own life. The man knows too much about me. How the hell he does is a mystery, but the fact is, he does. But I have to hand it to him. He employed the oldest trick in the book. Give your interrogator something that sounds convincing and they’ll buy it. Well, it worked, didn’t it?’ She shook her head and sighed. ‘Okay, now we know that Barak is not behind this, we’d better put out a few feelers and find out as much as we can about this Torvic bloke.’
She paused as she watched Mike’s eyes focus on one of the kitchenette cabinets. Ignoring her, he squatted on his haunches and placed his cheek on the cold concrete floor.
‘What are you doing, Mikey?’
Still ignoring her, he tried to stretch his arm under one of the units that was attached to the back wall. He groaned as he reached further. Then, suddenly, he was on his feet, holding a piece of paper. ‘Zara, your hangar, as you once told Staffie, is always as clean as a surgeon’s scalpel, so what’s this?’ He unfolded the tatty piece of paper as Neil, Zara, and Shamus hurried over to see for themselves. The note was partially printed and in the corner was part of an address. At first, they all looked dumbstruck: no one recognized it for a moment.
‘It may have just blown in with the wind. The back room’s been open to the elements,’ said Shamus.
But then, Zara looked at Mike’s face. He was staring as if what he was seeing meant something.
‘Mike?’
He snapped out of his gaze and slowly turned to face her. ‘I’ve seen this before, but … no, there must be some mistake. I, er …’
‘Mike, spit it out! What’s going on?’ demanded Zara.
He scratched his head. ‘This is mental. When Jackie was at mine, I tipped her bag out. She told me that on one of her court summonses there was an address of the Flakka supplier. It was Number Three, Sycamore Cottage. To me, this looks like the start of that address. And look at the corner of this paper. It has a reference number and serial numbers. That’s an official letter, like a court summons.’
Zara stepped back and screwed her face up. ‘Aw, come on, Mike. This has to be a coincidence. I mean, Jackie, your fucking ex-wife, in cahoots with Torvic? Give me a break. The bird’s a tent short of a circus, as thick as pig shit, and twice as stupid. No way!’
As Mike stared at the paper, he tried to remember if it was the same one he’d read at his home at the time of finalizing the divorce with his wife.
‘Zara, this is no coincidence. Who writes down addresses in pen these days? In fact, who uses a pen? Nah, this was in her bag, I’m telling ya.’
Stunned by the find, Zara paced the floor. She pulled a packet of cigarettes from her pocket, removed the cellophane with her teeth, and, after lighting up, she puffed away like a steam train.
‘I’m going to fucking kill her,’ Mike said. ‘Doesn’t the stupid bitch realize what she’s done? My Ricky could be in fucking danger because of her. Right, I’m going to Essex, and I’m gonna burn her fucking caravan down, with the ugly prat in it!’
‘No! Don’t be so reckless. That piece of paper may not confirm she was the one who released Torvic and Tiffany. For all we know, he may have been in her company, and, in some way, that piece of paper ended up with him.’
Mike stood with his hands on his hips and gave her a defiant glare. ‘Give over, Zara. It’s more likely that he’s given her a stash of money, and we all know she’ll do anything for cash. I ain’t gonna stand here and leave her be. I’ve had enough. She’s been the fucking thorn in my side for years now. It ends today.’
‘Mikey Regan, you might just find yourself back in the same position you were thirteen fucking years ago, with you inside and no help to anyone …’ She paused, allowing the words to filter. ‘Listen. Torvic was one step ahead of the game, but we have something now. We have Jackie. We ain’t going in like escaped maniacs, we’re gonna plan this out and find a way to get to Torvic. Jackie can wait. There’ll be plenty of time later to deal with her.’
Mike rolled his eyes and bit his lip. Zara was right, of course, so he had to control his urge to let rip.
* * *
As the Spanish sun dipped beneath the horizon and the cold crept in, Arty