Hiding her distaste for the piece of vermin in front of her, she kept her voice low, reassuring. ‘Come on, sit down and just get it all off your chest.’

  ‘Nobody’s allowed in here, are they? Only relatives like, yeah? Relatives and the pigs – that’s it, innit?’ He breathed out in short sharp pants, like a boxer gearing up to start the knockout round. He looked like one of those rodents she was so afraid of – maybe a bigger one, like a weasel or a ferret. Whatever, the irony of her lack of fear for this big one in comparison to the smaller ones, was not lost on her.

  Dragging a chair over, he sat opposite her, his scraggly shaved head bobbing, his breath rancid with fear. ‘You gotta help me. I’m in deep with Franco and he’s gonna kill me.’

  Nikki thought for a second and then brought her phone out. ‘If you’re giving me juice on Franco, I need to record it.’

  ‘Fuck’s sake.’

  ‘Your call, Deano, your call.’

  Exhaling, Deano thought for a moment before nodding. Nikki, not giving him the chance to reconsider, set her phone to record before reading him his rights.

  ‘Shit, you’re arresting me?’

  ‘I’m not – not yet anyway. Just keeping everything on the straight and narrow, for both our sakes. Need to keep it legit, don’t we?’

  Leg bouncing up and down and as if he thought it would offer some protection from whatever was going to happen next, Deano dragged his hood up over his head, casting a shadow over his face.

  Nikki frowned. Was that a tear in his eyes …? Tough. If it was, he deserved it. ‘I need you to specify that you’re not speaking under duress and then repeat what you’ve just said. Deano nodded and then, after clearing his throat, did as Nikki asked.

  ‘So why exactly is Franco after you?’

  ‘He’s found out about me and Kayleigh. I know he has. She’s not picking up my calls on the burner we have and I don’t know what to do. Me and her were in love, get it?’

  Maintaining a neutral expression, Nikki continued. ‘And Kayleigh is …?’

  ‘Franco’s baby mama, innit.’

  For fuck’s sake … Like an American hood movie from the South Side of Chicago to bloody Listerhills in Bradford … Baby mama indeed. Stupid little idiot. Of all the lasses he could have got mixed up with, Deano had to choose the girlfriend of the biggest psycho in Bradford. For a nanosecond, his apparent concern over Kayleigh made Nikita’s estimation of Deano go up a notch. But his next words showed him to be the selfish little shit she’d always believed him to be.

  ‘Stupid bint recorded us, din’t’ she? Got herself up the spout too. Says it’s mine, not Franco’s. Can’t believe her though. Fucking whore – spreading her legs for Franco’s right-hand man and then threatening to show the video to Franco. Bet she’s screwed that fucking Big Zee too. Shit – she must’ve known he’d kill us. He’s bloody mental, Franco is. You saw what he did to your Haqib.’

  Nikki had seen what Franco had done to Haqib, but she deliberately pushed all thoughts of her nephew to the back of her mind for now and focused on the sexist little turd before her. She wanted to slap him. Clearly the whole idea of ‘taking two to do the shadoobie doobies’ had escaped Deano, as had the concept of mutual responsibility. Mind you, Nikki would admit that her own idea of mutual responsibility was to keep the father of her kids at a distance. Kayleigh would have been well advised to have taken a leaf out of her book, if Franco and Deano were anything to go by. At least Marcus was a decent bloke.

  Nikki couldn’t quite get her head around why Kayleigh would risk everything she had with Franco for Deano – all the money, the nights out, the drugs, the high life, the posh house out Ilkley way. Didn’t add up. Unless, of course, Deano had hidden depths that had escaped Nikki’s notice. Yeah right! ‘So, Deano, you fear for Kayleigh’s safety?’

  ‘Aw fuck off, pig! It’s not her damn safety I’m bothered about, it’s me own. I’ve seen what Franco does to folk he takes a dislike to and I don’t want to end up on one of his pig farms.’

  ‘Franco make a habit of disposing of people on pig farms, does he?’ This was it, the big one. She could see the calculation in Deano’s eyes. Either he went all in right now with Nikki and blew the lid off Franco’s enterprise in order to get him locked up for the long haul or he went it alone against Franco. Nikki counted down from ten in her head. Her bet was on reaching no more than five before the little turd caved. She reached seven.

  ‘I’ve got it all written down.’ He scrabbled in his pockets and took a lined A4 sheet of paper out. It was scruffy and covered in big loopy writing.

  Proof definite it was not, but it was a start.

  Holding it out to her, Deano continued, ‘That’s every dealer he offed for not paying up on time. You think that manky little nephew of yours got it hard … well, he’s one of the lucky ones. Franco’s a fucking psycho. I can name at least ten that he’s fed to the pigs and I don’t want to be number eleven, you get me?’

  Nikki did indeed get him, but she had to be sure that she also got Franco … trussed up like a turkey preferably. ‘Did you see him killing them … feeding them to the pigs?’

  Deano avoided meeting her gaze and shuffled a bit on his seat. He could probably tell that less than concrete evidence wasn’t going to cut it. Finally, he shrugged. ‘We all know he does it. Him and Big Zee and Tyke.’

  Nikki let it go for now. Saj would press harder during the follow-up interview. For now, she wanted a sense of what he could give them. ‘We’ll need everything you got, Deano. Every little thing. We’ll need all the drug shit, all the underage prostitution and grooming racket, all the murders, all his associates – the lot. Dates, times, photographs … concrete evidence. That’s the only way out of this for you. You got that – concrete evidence?’

  Although, he tried to hide the cloud that flitted across his face at Nikki’s words, she caught it. Little turd didn’t have anything concrete despite his big talk. He was playing for time. Still, maybe he’d have something they could build on.

  Deano, head bowed, appeared to think about that for a moment. ‘I think he’s done summat to Tyke too. Earlier on it was just Big Zee. Tyke weren’t anywhere to be seen.’

  When Nikki had seen Franco earlier on, he’d been with Big Zee at The Mannville Arms – Tyke hadn’t been there.

  ‘Why would Franco want to do summat to Tyke – he screwing his baby mama too?’

  Deano sniffed and wiped his sleeve across his nose, leaving a trail of slime along the cuff. Noticing it, he used the other sleeve to rub it away.

  Nikki’s stomach contracted and she wished she’d not bothered with the tea.

  ‘Him and Big Zee are poofs, right? They think nobody knows, but we all do. Franco don’t like it. Dun’t want anybody thinking he’s one of them, does he? That’s why I reckon he’s fed Tyke to the pigs.’ He looked at Nikita, his eyes sharp and calculating. ‘I’ll get Witness Protection, yeah?’

  Nikki shrugged. He’d given her a shedload of information to process, but none of it was corroborated yet. It was all hearsay. She’d need to get Archie on the case to dig up the evidence. However, there was one way more important issue to deal with. ‘Not my pay scale, that one, Deano. Let’s talk about what happened tonight, eh? With your mum.’

  Bottom lip pouting, Deano shrugged and his voice took on a whingeing tone. ‘Couldn’t just walk up to you in the street now, could I? Franco and his boys have been following me everywhere. Had to box clever with this one.’

  Nikki’s chest tightened. This was the bit she really needed to hear. ‘You lost me, Deano.’

  ‘Well, I knew I could cut a deal with you. Get Franco locked up and off me back, like. But Franco had already warned me off after one of his boys reported me talking to you the other week. Needed to find a way of speaking to you without him finding out.’

  He glared at Nikki, his bottom lip turned down and an ugly spark of anger in his eyes as his fists clenched in his lap. ‘But you fucked that one up, didn’t you? Fucking Franco tailed you here. Now you gotta get me out of this mess. Arrest him – get him and Big Zee off the streets. Won’t be safe for me otherwise.’

  And he was on his feet again, pacing the floor between where Nikki was sitting and the window where the rain still lashed.

  But Nikki wasn’t satisfied, she kept her tone neutral, interested, like she thought he was the best thing since wholemeal chapattis. ‘What did you do?’

  Too busy pacing to look at her, he snorted. ‘Was fucking easy. She’s so needy, is me mam. All I had to do was offer to buy a Chinkies and make her a cup of tea and she were happy. Drugged her tea, so when the old bastard came back, he lost it with her. Started goin’ off on one.’

  Deano slammed his skinny arse onto the chair next to Nikki’s, sending it crashing against the wall. ‘But he’s been off the hard stuff for months – he’d only had beer, so he crashed next to her, moaning on.’

  Bending one leg over his opposite knee, Deano cradled it with both arms, his foot drumming a silent beat mid-air. His voice took on a lighter, self-satisfied, almost gloating tone. ‘I’d planned for that though. Gave him a bottle of whisky and waited. Didn’t take long for it to have an effect. Never seen him so pissed off. He were raving and raging and she were lying there drugged up, not getting what were happening to her.’

  He ran his sleeve over his nose again and Nikki averted her eyes. She was disgusted enough by his words without being subjected to his grotesque personal habits too. She’d suspected he was culpable in what had happened to Margo, but hearing all the venom, the complete disregard for his own mum spout from his lips, made it hard for her to hold it together. She had to though … had to get the admission from him. Not because it would make one whit of difference to his ultimate prison time – she doubted he’d participated in his mum’s beating – but because she needed to hear it. Needed it etched in her heart so that she’d focus on making sure he got what was coming to him.

  ‘When I were sure he’d done enough for the oink oinks to call you in, I phoned 999.’

  Taking a moment, Nikki tensed and then released her shoulder muscles trying to get her head round what he’d revealed, and then he was holding out his phone to her, smiling, like he expected a pat on the head.

  ‘Here, I recorded what Roddy boy did to her. It’s all there. Got it all on record.’

  Swallowing, Nikki wished she had water as her mouth was dry – milk from the tea clagging her throat, making it tight. The little bloody toad had recorded his mum being beaten to a pulp? He hadn’t called for help straightaway – he’d recorded it. Surprised he didn’t upload it to bloody Facebook as well. Something else he’d said struck her. ‘What do you mean “done enough to call me in”?’

  He snorted. ‘She told me you had a deal with the uniforms – any time there’s shit going down at ours, you get called in pronto.’

  A red haze descended over Nikki. She’d suspected something like this, ’course she had. But hearing it leave his lips like he didn’t care – like Margo was just a piece of trash to be manipulated for his gains, like she wasn’t worth owt? It was like machine-gun fire to the gut. His mum was in an operating theatre fighting for her life because her piece of crap for a son had set it up so her piece of crap for a husband would knock her senseless. This was too much … too fucking much. She snatched his phone from him, ignoring his objections, and thrust it in her back pocket, commenting for the recording that she had confiscated evidence pertaining to a crime.

  She stood up and, lips tight, left the room without saying another word. The uniformed officer who was there for Margo happily promised to stand guard over Deano whilst Nikki called it in. As she hung up, the ward door swung open and a tall surgeon, still in scrubs and a theatre cap walked up, his face serious. The nurse Nikki had spoken to earlier rushed to meet him and they exchanged a few words before he continued towards the waiting room. Nikki took out her warrant card and flipped it to him before he entered. ‘How is she, Margo McGonagall, how is she?’

  The surgeon paused and with a small sigh shook his head. ‘She arrested on the table and we couldn’t bring her back. I’m sorry.’ And he pushed open the door and went to tell Deano.

  In a haze, Nikki walked over and looked through the small glass panel in the door as the surgeon told Margo’s eldest son that his mother was dead. A concrete slab had taken up residence in her chest displacing the anger. Nikki was numb. The surgeon extended a hand and squeezed Deano’s shoulders.

  Surely, he’d show some remorse, some guilt, some emotion, anything – but Deano shook the surgeon’s hand off and continued his pacing, his face contorted, his mouth going like the clappers. Nikki heard the soothing tones of the surgeon followed by Deano’s harsher ones. The surgeon spun on his heel and moved to the door. As he opened it, Nikki heard the words, ‘She was a useless old slag anyway,’ drift through.

  The surgeon caught her eye and mumbled something that sounded remarkably like, ‘Little fucking bastard – doesn’t deserve a mum.’

  It had been a bad night for everyone.

  Chapter 51

  ‘I’m getting really worried now, Franco. It’s not like Tyke – you know it in’t.’

  Franco was getting more and more fed up with Big Zee’s moaning. They’d been here for hours and even with the heat on, it was nippy. Added to that was the stink of Big Zee’s garlic breath. When he’d sent him up the road for food, he’d meant a Chicken Cottage burger meal not a fucking kebab with red onions and garlic mayo. Parekh had disappeared into the taxi rank ages ago – nearly an hour. What was she doing – issuing blow jobs to the Paki drivers? Wouldn’t surprise him – if she was owt like her sister then she’d be a dirty little scrubber. Fuck, had Big Zee farted now? He buzzed a switch and the window rolled down with an effortless hum, letting in a welcome waft of fresh air and a sheet of rain. He pressed the button again and the window went back up.

  ‘Give it a rest, eh? Tyke’s probably pissed off somewhere getting his leg over some cool blonde with long legs and a Brazilian.’

  He cast a sideways glance at Big Zee. Everyone knew the two of them were at it – Big Zee and Tyke – he just wanted to get back at the other man for the noxious fumes he was creating. ‘Yeah, a snatch, smooth as a baby’s and smelling of roses. Mm-mm– that’ll be where he is. No need to worry, big man.’

  Big Zee balled up the last of his kebab in the paper, squishing the polystyrene container and leaking mayo onto his trousers. With his lips all pursed up and angry, he looked like he wanted to throw it with force out the window. Franco grinned – too damn easy to wind the fucker up! He glanced in the rear-view mirror and frowned. That was another thing that was bothering him. That car parked up behind him with three blokes inside. What did they want? Was it another takeover bid or something? With Tyke gone walkabouts they were a man down – mind you, Big Zee was well able to handle himself. Still, it was a worry. So far, the men had maintained their distance. He’d just keep an eye on them for now.

  He leaned over and cuffed his mate on the arm – just hard enough to make him wince. ‘Lighten up, BZ, Tyke’ll turn up again like the proverbial bad penny. You know he will, then you can get all smooochy moochy again.’

  ‘Fuck off.’

  Big Zee shrugged off Franco’s hand and leaned against the passenger door, his face averted. Sulking, no doubt. If there was one thing Franco couldn’t stand it was sulking. He hated it, especially on a stake out. He wanted a bit of banter, a bit of chat, some toons. He flicked the CD on and started bopping his head in time to some heavy grime, hoping that would lighten Big Zee’s mood.

  ‘Aw, for fuck’s sake, I don’t care if you’re shirt-lifters, the pair of you – after that little tosser, I’d prefer it. Least I don’t need to worry about you two dipping in my baby mama’s honey pot.’

  Big Zee made a sound in the back of his throat, but his shoulders seemed to relax. Maybe he’d lighten up in a bit. Now what the hell was Parekh doing? He’d been sure she’d hotfoot it to see Margo at BRI. Maybe he’d miscalculated? Maybe he should have gone straight to BRI and left Parekh to her own devices. Maybe she’d more on her plate to worry about than Deano and his scrawny ma. Word on the street was that she’d offed her old man and buried him in the Odeon car park years ago.

  He nudged Big Zee. ‘Come on – let’s go.’

  Straightening up, Big Zee tucked his food wrapper down the side of the car seat and gripped the steering wheel. ‘Where to now? Thought we were keeping an eye on the skanky cow.’

  ‘BRI – think we’d be better keeping an eye on Deano. I want him to pay for what he’s done and just cause his mum’s laid up in hospital, dun’t mean we can’t sort him out.’

  As Big Zee drove off, Franco looked in the rear-view mirror. Seems the other car wasn’t interested in him. Must be Parekh then. Wonder who else she’s pissed off.

  Chapter 52

  Margo’s death sat heavy with Nikki. She should have made more of an effort to convince her friend to kick Roddy into touch. Should have got rid of Deano when she had the damn chance. Should’ve run the little scrote off the estate – left him to his fate with Franco. Instead she’d been preoccupied with a man who’d been dead for fifteen years. What did that say about her? She’d allowed herself to be distracted and she’d ended up doing nothing very well. Her ex-father-in-law was hounding her daughter. She hadn’t spent the time she should have with Charlie, talking to her about her dad – about how Khal had made her feel, about his warmth and about how much he would have loved to have a daughter, about how like him Charlie was.

  They’d taken Deano to Trafalgar House a couple of hours ago and Nikki was itching to find out what he was saying, what else he’d added to corroborate his earlier statement. Sajid was in charge of pinning things down and she had every faith in her partner’s ability. Still, she wanted to be the one to tie things up.

 

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33