Riot Page 30

  “They will ask one day.”

  “Maybe not. Jules is their mother now.”

  Mikey grabbed him by the front of the shirt again and dragged him towards him. “You’ve no fucking idea what you’ve done and you have the fucking nerve to compare this to what Jules did to Jake. Amber was a mother and it was her parents who alerted Dwyer to the fact that she was missing in the first place. You ordered the murder of the mother of your godsons. Did seeing your mum die fuck you up so badly that killing Amber was acceptable?”

  “I didn’t see Estelle die.”

  “But you were there and it killed something inside you.”

  Jez shoved him backwards, fury lighting up his eyes. “What the fuck do you know about it?” he bellowed.

  “Touched a nerve there, didn’t I?” said Mikey with a maniacal grin. “You’re going the same way as Alex. That’s why killing is so easy for you.”

  “You fucking hypocrite. How many people have you killed or ordered to be killed?”

  “Never in my life have I killed someone who was defenceless. Never,” he snarled, showering Jez in spittle.

  A sardonic smile played on Jez’s lips. “You never thought about topping your bitch of a mother after how she ignored you, neglected you while treating Jake like her little prince? You never thought about wrapping your hands around her neck and squeezing until her eyes bulged from her head and she breathed her last all those years you were locked in a mental institute for what your brother did? Course you did,” he went on when Mikey glowered at him. “You killed her countless times in your head.”

  “Which is a million miles from actually doing it.”

  “She’ll do the same to you as Estelle did to me you know, one day. She blames you for Jake’s death. Her precious baby killed by the child she wished she’d never had.”

  Mikey was repulsed by him. Never, in all the years they’d known each other had Jez ever creeped him out. “Who are you? Do you even know anymore?”

  “I’m someone who will do anything to protect their family.”

  “Including killing off members of it?”

  “Amber wasn’t part of this family anymore and I thought you’d be glad.”

  “Why the fuck would I be glad about this mess?”

  “Because she can’t hassle you anymore or threaten to take the boys off you.”

  “She never would have tried to take them off me because she couldn’t be arsed with them and you know it.”

  “Why are you so bothered anyway? She cheated on you with your own cousin and told him you were a wife beating bastard. She made a fool of you Mikey.”

  “No she didn’t. Her cheating with Declan meant I could divorce her and marry Jules and she gave me two beautiful sons. I never wanted her dead.”

  Jez’s grey eyes darkened. “Not even after her actions led to your new bride getting shot in the chest?”

  Mikey inhaled sharply and looked down at the floor as that awful memory replayed in his head.

  “You know I did the right thing,” pressed Jez.

  “Whether it was right or not is beside the point. We agreed to discuss everything before making a big decision and you rode roughshod over that. If I’d done that to you, you’d have gone fucking mental.”

  “I took on the burden so you wouldn’t have to and you know what? I don’t regret it.”

  “You don’t, do you? Not even with us both locked up in here away from everyone we love,” yelled Mikey.

  “Not even now,” he roared back. “If the bitch was standing in front of me I’d throttle her with my bare hands.”

  “Fucking bastard,” snapped Mikey, lunging for him.

  Any shouting that may have been overheard from Mikey’s cell had been drowned out by the shrieks and screams coming from Carl’s cell.

  “Bloody hell, they’re really going to town on the bastard in there,” said Brendan.

  “Somehow I don’t think those are his screams,” replied a cringing Chris.

  “Course they are. I mean, if not…”

  The entire landing turned to look as Carl’s cell door slowly swung open and the man himself stepped out looking completely different to how he’d gone in.

  “Jesus Christ,” murmured Brendan, his jaw falling open.

  Carl was covered from head to toe in blood, his bright blue eyes peering at them curiously through the mask of gore.

  “Is…is that a tongue he’s holding?” rasped Chris, indicating Carl’s right hand.

  “Looks like one,” whispered back Brendan. He wasn’t afraid of anyone but he didn’t want to talk too loudly in case it drew the psycho’s attention to him. “Why do they call him The Make-Up Killer?”

  “Because he painted his victims’ faces with make-up after he’d killed them.”

  “I was imagining something much weirder. At least he can’t get any of that in here.”

  The tension had returned to the wing, ramped way above what it had been before as the most violent men in the city all desperately avoided the mad staring eyes of a serial killer.

  “Pretty boys,” Carl’s voice hissed across the landing, reverberating upwards, seeming to fill the building.

  Everyone recoiled and took a step back.

  “That confirms it,” whispered Brendan. “He is mental if he thinks this set of ugly bastards are pretty.”

  One of the prisoners ducked behind Carl to look into his cell and check on his friends. What he saw made him gasp and stagger backwards. “Tim, Lee,” he cried. He pointed a shaking hand in the direction of the cell. “He’s torn them to pieces.”

  The hostility in the room was cranked up even more.

  “You bastard,” yelled the man, charging at Carl from behind.

  Carl whipped round and slammed his fist against his throat. The man went down, choking, a hand to his bruised, swelling neck.

  “Pretty boy,” repeated Carl, looming over him.

  The man’s friends rushed to his aid, throwing themselves at Carl, who easily batted them aside. One of them crashed into a man who was in for stabbing someone through the eye because they spilt his pint in a pub and he retaliated by punching the man so hard in the face he rocketed back across the landing. Numerous fights broke out across the landing. The prison officers on duty took one look and ran for their lives, locking the gate behind them, ensuring all the prisoners were sealed into K wing.

  CHAPTER 32

  Mikey and Jez broke off wrestling with each other at the din that had erupted on the wing.

  “What the hell is that?” said Jez.

  As he turned towards the door it was knocked into him by two prisoners who burst through it, frantically throwing their fists at each other. The heavy door hit Jez in the side of the face, sending him unconscious to the floor.

  “Get off me you wankers,” said Mikey when the two fighting men barged into him. A fist to the side of one of their heads and a kick to the groin for the second one stopped their brutal fight.

  “Jez,” said Mikey, rushing to his side.

  A trickle of blood ran down the side of his face from a laceration to the forehead.

  “Jez,” said Mikey, shaking him harder. “Wake up.”

  Jez jumped awake and groaned. “Jesus, my head. What happened?”

  “These dicks whacked you with the door,” said Mikey, gesturing to the two men on the floor, one unconscious, one curled into a ball, cupping his genitals and groaning.

  “What’s that noise?” he said, slowly sitting up.

  “It looks like we’ve got ourselves caught up in a riot.”

  “A riot? Oh well that’s just fucking marvellous.”

  “Can you stand?”

  “Let’s bloody well hope so.”

  Mikey helped him to his feet and Jez stood there, swaying. A group of men flew past the open cell door, fighting, two of them splattered with blood. Mikey spied a shiv in the hand of one of the men, which he was frantically plunging into his opponent.

  “Maybe we should just barricade the
door shut?” said Jez.

  “With what? Everything’s bolted down.”

  “If we get caught up in any violence we could end up spending the rest of our lives in here.”

  “Right now let’s just concentrate on staying alive.”

  Their view of the landing was blocked by a group of four men appearing in the doorway all clutching weapons of varying viciousness, eyes locked on them.

  “A whisk?” said Mikey, nodding at the hand of one of the men. “Seriously? What are you going to do with that, cream us to death?”

  “It was all that was left in the servery,” replied the man a little sheepishly.

  “Come on then, bring it on. I’ll ram it through your fucking skull.”

  The four men charged them as one.

  “Hello, Belle? What’s wrong?” said Rachel when all she could hear was sobbing down the phone.

  “It…it’s Battler’s grave. It’s been vandalised.”

  Rachel turned cold. “On my way,” she said before hanging up.

  She hurried out of the house. Fletch, who had been assigned to watch over her, was waiting to greet her at the front door.

  “Something wrong?” he said.

  “I’ve had word from Belle. Battler’s grave’s been vandalised.”

  “I’ll come with you.”

  They got into Rachel’s Mercedes and fifteen minutes later they were pulling into the car park behind the beautiful, secluded cemetery where Battler had been laid to rest. It was out in the countryside, the grey stone church by its side.

  Belle, the attractive auburn haired woman who had worked for Battler and Bruiser ever since they set up in Devon was waiting for them, face streaked with tears and make-up.

  “Rachel, I’m so glad you’re here,” she said, flinging her arms around her neck. “It’s just horrible.”

  Rachel hugged her back. “It’s okay, we’ll sort it out.”

  “You don’t want to see it.”

  “I do.”

  They followed Belle through the small cemetery, noting no other graves had been tampered with.

  “Jesus,” sighed Rachel. All the flowers on Battler’s grave had been tossed about and the vases they’d been in smashed. His head stone had been attacked, his name practically hacked off and dog shit smeared all over it. “The fucking bastards,” she spat. “This is Liam Garrick.”

  “Liam Garrick,” said Belle. “The lawyer?”

  “Yes, that bastard. Do you know him?”

  “I do. We were hired to investigate him about three years ago by a woman who claimed he raped her. Rachel, what’s going on?” she said when she looked furious.

  “What did you find out about him?”

  “Me and Battler thought he was guilty but we couldn’t find any proof.”

  “Why don’t you two go back to Belle’s office,” said Fletch. “I’ll sort this mess out and order a new gravestone.”

  “Thanks Fletch,” said Rachel, squeezing his hand. “Send me the bill.”

  He nodded. “I’ll walk you back to the car.”

  “How will you get back?”

  “I’ll call Leo. He can give me a hand clearing up here.”

  Fletch was on high alert as he escorted them, scanning the surrounding hills and long grass. Rachel wasn’t sure whether it was reassuring or disconcerting that he was taking the threat so seriously.

  “Get in the car,” she told Belle.

  The two women leapt inside and slammed the doors shut, Rachel locking them.

  “What is going on?” said Belle. “Why were you asking about Liam Garrick?”

  As she drove them away from the cemetery Rachel explained about Ethan and Freddie, her encounter with Liam in his office as well as him following her.

  “Oh my God, he’s a psycho,” she exclaimed when Rachel had finished.

  “So it would seem.”

  “What does Ryan have to say about it?”

  “He doesn’t know, I haven’t told him yet. He’s got a lot on his plate in Manchester.”

  “It’s probably fortunate he’s not here or he would have torn Liam up into tiny little pieces by now.”

  “Probably, which is why I’m not going to mention it to him yet. I’ll sort out Liam myself.”

  Belle glanced sideways at Rachel, whose eyes had gone as black as the tarmac they were speeding along on. The damage to Battler’s grave had unleashed the side of her she worked so hard to keep in check. “Where are we going?” Belle asked her.

  “To see Liam,” she retorted, slamming the car into gear, putting her foot down even harder.

  “That’s what he wants you to do Rachel. He did that to Battler’s grave to get a rise out of you. Don’t give him the satisfaction.”

  “It would satisfy me to smash my fists into his fucking mouth,” she hissed.

  “Me too, I’d love nothing better but that will only get us into trouble. Battler wouldn’t want that.”

  Rachel’s eyes flickered although she didn’t take her foot off the accelerator. They were negotiating some hairpin bends and Rachel’s driving was becoming rather dicey. Belle’s hand crept up to grasp the handle by her head.

  “We should see Michelle,” pressed Belle. “Tell her what’s happened.” She held her breath as the car whizzed around a tight bend, convinced they were going to go up on two wheels. She thought it fortunate nothing was coming the opposite way. “And what will your kids do if you’re in a car accident?”

  Finally Rachel eased up on the accelerator, the darkness fleeing from her eyes. “Sorry,” she said.

  “It’s okay. I’m pissed off too.”

  “I thought my counsellor had helped me deal with my anger but clearly I’ve more work to do.”

  “I’ve felt like that since he died too, angry all the time.”

  “Really?” said Rachel, chancing a curious glance at her.

  “I feel cheated because I only got a little bit of time with him. We’d only been together a couple of years when he died. What I wouldn’t give to have had longer with that amazing man,” she said, a tear sliding down her cheek.

  Guilt began to creep over Rachel. She’d known Battler a lot longer, ever since she’d met Danny. She’d had so much more time with him than Belle had, who loved him just as fiercely. Rather than be angry about what she’d lost, she should love what they’d had together. “Nothing’s the same anymore without him.”

  “I know but it just goes to show what a remarkable man he was.”

  “He was,” said Rachel in a faraway voice, tears prickling her eyes.

  By the time they arrived at the office Rachel was more composed. Michelle was sat at her desk, talking into the phone. When they walked in she hung up and regarded them seriously. “Fletch has already told me what happened. Are you both okay?”

  “Apart from being fucking furious,” said Rachel. “We’re fine. This was Liam Garrick.”

  “I agree. Fletch and Leo are on with seeing if there’s any witnesses who might have seen Liam up there. Sadly there’s no CCTV.”

  “There won’t be any witnesses,” said Rachel. “Liam wouldn’t make a mistake like that. I need to speak to his wife.”

  “I’ve already tried,” said Michelle. “She refused to open the door to me. I tried cajoling her through the letterbox but she ignored me. That’s one scared little lady.”

  “Then we need to talk to that assault victim of his you mentioned,” said Rachel, looking to Belle.

  “If she’s still around. This was a few years ago. When nothing came of her allegations she mentioned leaving the area. But I can dig out her address.”

  “Great. I’ll talk to her.”

  “Leave this to us Rachel,” said Michelle. “If you start getting involved Liam could use it against you.”

  “I can’t sit back and do nothing.”

  “That’s exactly what you need to do Rach, for your own good.”

  “She’s right,” said Belle. “Let us handle it.”

  “Okay,” said Rachel, re
calling how furious she’d felt earlier. If she got involved she’d only end up smacking someone. “Ashley needs to know about this.”

  “I’ll do that,” said Michelle. “I’ll let him know about this previous victim too.”

  “That might urge him to hurry things up a bit.”

  “Is he not taking it seriously?”

  “He’s far too professional not to but he just can’t believe it of Liam Garrick, he knows him.”

  “Well this should shove a rocket up his arse.”

  Rachel glanced at the clock on the wall. “I’ve got to pick up the boys from school. I’ll leave this with you then.”

  “I’ll go with you,” said Michelle, rising to her feet.

  “You don’t need to, you’re busy here.”

  “Yes I do, especially after what’s just happened and no arguments lady.”

  Rachel found she didn’t have the energy for a debate. “Alright,” she sighed. “Let’s go.”

  Together they stepped out onto the street, leaving Belle to get to work.

  “Look,” said Rachel when she spied a silver Lexus down the street. “It’s Liam’s car.”

  “Jesus. I don’t think this guy’s going to give up any time soon.”

  As they watched the silver car pull away a hand emerged from the window to give them the finger.

  “God my head’s fucking banging,” groaned Jez, breathing hard, slumping against the wall.

  “You okay?” panted Mikey.

  “I’ll be fine. I’ve had worse.”

  The four men they’d just taken down had joined the other two on the floor of their cell. As the room was so small they were heaped over each other. All four men were still breathing but the damage Mikey and Jez had inflicted on them ensured they wouldn’t be rejoining the fight for a while.

  “Maybe you should stay here?” said Mikey when Jez staggered slightly. “You don’t look too good.”

  “Fuck that. If we’re going down we’re going down together.”

  Despite the vicious argument they’d just had, they nodded at each other.

  They peered out of the door, looking up and down the landing, which resembled a scene from Armageddon. Everywhere there were men fighting. Blood was splattered all across the landing and small fires had been started, a pall of smoke hanging over the scene. The CCTV cameras had been torn down off the walls and smashed to pieces.