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“There are other ways to bring someone down.”

  “Maybe me and you should look deeper into this coalition crap, knock it on the head before it goes any further. We’re already pretty sure of two of the members - that dusty old fart of a judge and the CPS lawyer.”

  “The original coalition had someone with a lot of money behind them as well as an MP, neither of whom are breathing anymore, so it can’t be them. Oh and the editor of a national newspaper. Neither is it him as he left the country after our last meeting.”

  “Dwyer wouldn’t use any members of the original coalition, not after they failed so miserably. He will have put together his own little group vetted personally by him.”

  “We could sit here all day guessing but there’s only one way to find out.”

  “Let’s go and speak to the Honourable Mr Bridges. I found out something rather interesting about him that we can use to wrong-foot the bastard.”

  “That wicked grin of yours has piqued my curiosity.”

  Her smile increased. “You’re going to love it big bruv.”

  “Where on earth are we?” said Ryan into the motorbike helmet.

  “I told you, it’s a surprise,” replied Jules as they dismounted the bike together.

  “I don’t like your surprises, they make me nervous.”

  Her phone beeped and she took it out of her jacket pocket to look. “Alright, it’s time.”

  “For what?” pressed Ryan.

  “You’ll see in a minute. Stop nagging.”

  “I fail to see why you have to be so mysterious.”

  They walked across the busy street towards a row of shops and nightclubs, Ryan following as Jules kept on going, heading around the back. Only once they were away from the main road did they remove their helmets.

  He followed her to the rear door of a nightclub and rapped on the door. It was opened by someone Ryan at first thought was a woman, until he took in the prominent jaw and Adam’s apple and realised it was in fact a man wrapped in a floor length sequin dress, a blond wig gathered into a mass on top of his head.

  “Julesy,” beamed the man, opening the door wider. “Great to see you. Come on in.”

  “Cheers Billy,” she smiled, stepping inside, Ryan following.

  “And who is this big strong hunk of man?” purred Billy in a deep but husky voice, eyes roaming up and down Ryan.

  “This is my big brother, Ryan,” she said.

  Billy held out a huge hand, the nails well manicured and painted bright red, a diamond bracelet around his muscular wrist.

  “Nice to meet you,” said Ryan pleasantly.

  “Manners too,” said Billy. “Where has she been hiding you all these years?”

  “Down boy,” said Jules. “He’s taken.”

  “The best ones always are.”

  “Is he here?”

  “He is.”

  Ryan wanted to yell who but didn’t like to look clueless, so he maintained his poker face.

  “This way Julesy,” said Billy, sashaying down a long corridor with doors leading off. Men in various states of undress and sporting extravagant make-up popped in and out of the doors they passed, all in female clothing and talking excitedly, the rooms appearing to be dressing rooms.

  “Julesy?” whispered Ryan.

  “I’ll explain later,” she whispered back.

  “Is this some sort of transvestite club?”

  “It’s a burlesque cabaret bar with male performers,” she retorted.

  “Here we go,” said Billy when they reached the last door on the left. “Magda always insists on a dressing room to herself. Talk about a drama queen,” he added with a roll of the eyes.

  “Thanks, we really appreciate this,” said Jules.

  “Any time for you Julesy,” he said, patting her shoulder. “So, you still single and wild?”

  “Nah. Happily married now.”

  “What a shame. Another good one gone. If it ever falls through you know where to find me,” he said, leaning into her, voice deepening to its normal bass.

  “I do but it won’t.”

  “I’m disappointed but happy for you,” he winked. “And try not to make a mess in there.”

  “We won’t.”

  “That sweet smile doesn’t fool me Julesy. On you go.”

  Jules smiled and kissed his cheek. With another wink Billy sashayed off down the corridor with an elegance that belied his height and size.

  “How do you know him?” said Ryan.

  “Billy and I go way back, or rather Bill, that’s his real name. Bill the plumber, hence Billy Piper, that’s his stage name. He’s a huge Doctor Who fan, he even has a tattoo of a dalek on his left arse cheek.”

  “And how do you know about that tattoo?”

  “I’ve seen it many times. He came to my flat years ago to fix a leaking pipe and let’s just say the piping wasn’t the only thing that got laid that day.”

  “Why am I not surprised?”

  “Beneath all that make-up and the wig he’s gorgeous. Swings both ways of course. Usually he goes about in torn denim jeans and black t-shirts. Billy Piper lets him express himself. He’s the reason I have a thing for French maid outfits.”

  Ryan thought he was going to need to see Rachel’s counsellor after the things his sister had shared with him recently. “So are you ready to tell me why we’re here?”

  “To see Magda.”

  “And who is Magda?”

  “Let’s find out,” she said before opening the dressing room door.

  They walked in to find a small, stooped, odd-looking creature wrapped in a gaudy flower-print dress. On top of their head balanced an enormous grey wig backcombed into a beehive. Their lips were a garish orange, enormous false eyelashes curling up off their face in opposite directions. They’d applied so much make-up it looked like their face was caked in flour and it had sunk into the deep lines of their skin, highlighting the many wrinkles. It was an amateurish attempt, lacking all the sophistication of Billy’s make-up.

  “No, it’s not…,” began Ryan.

  “The Honourable Judge Bridges,” said Jules triumphantly.

  Bridges threw down the blusher brush he’d been holding and got to his feet, holding his head high.

  “You’ve got to admire that stiff upper lip,” said Jules. “Even if it does look like he’s been stuffing his gob with wotsits.”

  “What on earth are you two doing here?” he demanded grandly, holding himself as tall as his small frame would allow. “I pay good money for privacy here.”

  “I can see why,” said Ryan, amused.

  “Are we keeping you?” said Jules. “Are you on stage soon?”

  “I don’t go on stage. I just like to stay in here and…express myself.”

  “I think you need more practice,” said Jules, lips twitching.

  “If you’re hoping to talk to me about your relatives then don’t bother. Your pleas will fall on deaf ears.”

  “You mean corrupt ears you sneaky bastard,” said Jules. “I bet you’ll miraculously preside over their trial at the crown court too, won’t you?”

  “That remains to be seen.”

  “Oh stop it. We know all about you and Dwyer and your sad little coalition.”

  His lips pursed so hard the white make-up on his cheeks cracked. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “Do you think we’re complete lemons? Our family’s been through this utter shite before, we know the signs.”

  “Of course Dwyer’s in on it with you,” said Ryan. “And most likely the crown prosecutor, who oddly enough has gone away on a family emergency.”

  “He’s obviously the smart one,” said Jules.

  “Now we want to know who the others are,” continued Ryan. “The original coalition had a businessman in a position of power, someone wealthy and influential. Do you have the same?”

  Bridges refused to reply, glaring at them defiantly.

  “It seems Bruce Spencer, against all the odds, actually has
a good business head on his shoulders and has proved to be inordinately successful. Plus he has a grudge against our family.” He smiled. “You don’t need to say a word Your Honour, I can read the truth in your eyes. Now, who else? A prominent politician perhaps? No,” he added when scorn crept into the judge’s rheumy gaze. “Perhaps a colleague of DCI Dwyer’s then, one who could ensure his investigation proceeds unimpeded?”

  Bridges involuntarily huffed out a breath of air as the tension in the room ramped up unbearably.

  Ryan and Jules glanced at each other and smiled.

  “Bingo,” grinned the latter.

  “But who?” continued Ryan. “Never mind, we’ll find out for ourselves. We don’t require any more of your assistance.”

  “I haven’t given you any assistance,” Bridges finally exploded.

  “Tell yourself that if it makes you feel better,” said Jules.

  “I’ve no idea what you’re talking about or what this coalition is. The pair of you are clearly deranged…”

  He went silent when Jules wrapped her hand around his scrawny neck.

  “Jules, take it easy,” said Ryan.

  “I’m calm big bruv,” she said, furious grey eyes locked on Bridges’s face. “You sent two innocent men to prison.”

  “Innocent?” he chuckled. “Surely my dear not even you believe that?”

  “I am not your dear you patronising old git. They didn’t kill Estelle or Amber.”

  “How can you be so sure?”

  “Because I know my husband and my brother. Mikey would never kill the mother of his children and Jez did not kill Estelle.”

  “I was married for thirty four years, so I know better than anyone that all married couples have secrets from each other. Some are quite benign but others, well, if they were revealed they would tear the marriage apart.”

  She shoved him back against the wall, making him gasp, his wig sagging to one side. “You know fuck all about us.”

  “Perhaps. But what about your brother? He’s been charged with Amber’s death too. Maybe he thought she was too dangerous to live?”

  “As if Jez would kill Amber,” she scoffed. “He wouldn’t bother with the pointless, silly tart. Now you’re going to pass on a message to the rest of your little gang. You’ll tell them to stop their activities right now or we’ll bring the wrath of God down on your heads. Blood will have blood.”

  “You know your Shakespeare. I’m pleased your reputation as an intellectual is actually true. You should bear in mind that time shall unfold what plighted cunning hides; Who covers faults, at last shame them derides.”

  “Some rise by sin and some by virtue fall.” Jules’s eyes narrowed. “And it’s your time to fucking fall.”

  With that she released him. Bridges staggered slightly, a hand to his thin chicken neck. Jules had to turn her back on him before she went too far.

  While she gathered herself together, Ryan addressed Bridges. “Take this friendly warning back to the others. The last coalition went too far. Cathy Law is already in hospital after being stabbed as a result of Dwyer’s actions. He’s dangerous.”

  “You can’t blame him for that,” said Bridges, not looking that certain.

  “He’s a zealot, everyone knows it and like all zealots he’s willing to do whatever it takes to reach his goal because he believes he’s on a righteous path. You need to stop him before he goes too far.”

  Bridges sank back into the chair, knees going weak with exhaustion. His make-up had been smeared across his face, his wig was crooked, strands springing out from the sides and his clothing was askew. The man looked old and sad but somehow still managed to cling onto his dignity.

  Jules loomed over him. “We can find you anywhere and anytime Your Honour. Don’t suffer for their sins.” She took out her phone. “Smile for the camera,” she grinned before taking his photo. She brought it up for him to see. “You keep messing with us and this raggedy mess will be splashed all over social media, as well as sent to every media outlet in the city, the tabloids will lap it up. They love shit like this.”

  With that they left, quietly closing the door behind them. Bridges sighed, pulled the wig off his head and tossed it onto the dressing table. He felt tired and pissed off but in that moment he couldn’t have said who was the focus for his anger - that family, DCI Dwyer, or himself.

  CHAPTER 30

  “Jesus, it feels tense around here today,” Mikey commented to Jez. They were on their landing for association but the atmosphere was subdued, everyone talking in tense whispers, as though if they spoke too loudly it would finally cause the explosion that felt to be imminent.

  “At least it doesn’t seem to be centred around us,” replied Jez. “Thanks to staffing shortages everyone’s been spending more time in their cells. The men are getting bored and increasingly pissed off.”

  “Which isn’t a good thing in a prison.” He smiled when he saw a welcome sight returning to the landing. “Brendan, good to see you.” With the atmosphere around here they were going to need all the friendly faces they could get and he was a particularly useful one.

  “Christ, they corned beefed you mate,” said Jez, indicating Brendan’s magenta jumper and tracksuit bottoms.

  “Corned beef?” said Mikey.

  “That get-ups a punishment,” he explained. “To mark out the naughty boys, that’s why they chose that embarrassing colour.”

  “Doesn’t bother me,” said Brendan. “It’s not the first time I’ve been corned beefed and it probably won’t be the last.”

  “I hope it is,” said Jez. “We want you on the outside. Jules has spoken to your dad and done a deal, so our families will be working together.”

  “Really?” he beamed. His family had struggled for dominance in Birmingham for a long time but their deal with this family would ensure their place as top dog in the city, encouraging their competitors to keep their distance. It would mean paying a cut to the Maguires and Laws but if they could not only do business unimpeded but make more lucrative deals it was worth it.

  “Your old man’s going to visit so you can discuss it with him then,” said Mikey. “He‘s going to give you a more prominent role in the business when you’re released, at our insistence. We feel you could really be an asset.”

  “Fucking hell, that’s amazing,” he grinned, unashamed of his enthusiasm and refusing to hide it. “Thanks.”

  “You’re welcome,” said Jez. “So keep your nose clean from now on. You’ve only a couple of years to go, maybe even less if you stop getting into bother.”

  “Will do,” he said seriously. He looked around with a frown. “What’s happened here? Everyone looks so edgy.”

  “I think the camel’s back is about to break,” said Jez. He didn’t like to add that John South’s mysterious death was the straw that broke it. Not knowing for certain what had happened to him hadn’t helped the mood of the men. Now everyone had formed themselves into small groups, which were casting suspicious glances at each other, the frenzied whispering funnelling up the building, amplifying the sound as well as the sense of paranoia.

  Mikey spied Vance and his group standing not far from themselves. Out of them all only those five appeared the most relaxed and as ex-police officers they had the most to fear if the worst happened. Undoubtedly they would be targeted first. However no one looked as tense as the prison officers. Rather than the usual six there were now eight of them, which would be useless in the face of the approaching storm.

  “Oy Maguire,” said one of the prison officers. “You’ve got a visitor.”

  “I haven’t any visits booked.”

  “That doesn’t change the fact that you’ve got a visitor.”

  “Maybe it’s Jules?” he said hopefully before following the prison officer. “It would just be like her to ignore what I said.” Despite his words he couldn’t disguise the eagerness in his eyes as he set off after the prison officer.

  “Somehow I doubt it,” said Jez, a sense of foreboding sett
ling over him.

  All Mikey’s eagerness deflated when he walked into the small interview room to be confronted by Dwyer.

  “I’m not talking to that tosser,” Mikey told the prison officer.

  “You’ve no choice in the matter,” he replied before stepping out and locking the door behind him.

  “I’m not talking to you without my solicitor present,” Mikey told Dwyer.

  “You probably don’t want your solicitor present for what I have to say,” he replied.

  Mikey sighed and slouched into the chair opposite him, reclining back casually. “Well get on with it then so I can get back to being bored shitless.”

  “I was wondering if you’d spoken to your business partner about Amber’s death?”

  “Why should I? There’s nothing to discuss. We’re innocent, as you well know.”

  “I know you are Mikey but Jez isn’t.”

  Mikey blinked at him. “What did you say?”

  “McGinnis said you weren’t part of the plot to have her killed.”

  Mikey shot to his feet, overturning his chair. “Then why the fuck am I stuck in this shithole?” he bellowed.

  The door was hastily unlocked and the prison officer walked in, recoiling when Mikey’s head snapped round to glare at him.

  “Get the fuck out,” roared Mikey.

  “It’s okay,” Dwyer told the man. “We’re just having a quiet discussion.”

  “Doesn’t sound like it.”

  “Mikey, you’ll behave, won’t you?”

  “You just told me you know I’m innocent of Amber’s death and you expect me to be calm?”

  Dwyer gave one of his frustratingly smug smiles, as though he was dealing with a child. “It’s alright Officer, you can leave us.”

  “Well, if you’re sure?” he replied, relieved. He had no wish to tackle Mikey Maguire.

  “I am.”

  The guard left, locking the door behind him while Mikey remained rigid on his feet, glaring down at him.

  “Please sit down so we can continue talking like civilised men.”

  “What the fuck do you know about being civilised? You fit up innocent people.”

  “You are far from innocent Mikey. How many people have you killed?”