The Price, page 16
Keeping low, I made sure I was far enough away that when I broke cover, the huge building would hide me from the gathering men at the front. Taking a few deep breaths, forcing more oxygen to work its way into my underused muscles, I sprinted away from the trees towards the side entrance. It was only perhaps eighty metres at most, and yet I felt exposed for an eternity. When I reached the building, I lowered myself to the ground and pressed my back against the warm metal, listening. I could hear Mantel talking somewhere close by, but more important than that was what I couldn’t hear. There were no footsteps, or voices coming my way. Satisfied I’d not been seen, I moved towards the door Mantel had mentioned. It was open a crack and gently I pulled it wide enough to slip inside. Mantel’s voice boomed as he spoke to his staff about security and how it needed to tighten up, that it wasn’t just him being attacked by those responsible, but all of them. Until that moment, I never understood how people like Henry Mantel could rise up and do so well, but listening to him, I now knew. The man was a monster, there was no doubt, but he was also a charismatic leader, rallying his troops.
I made my way towards the sound of voices murmuring in agreement with their boss’s words about protecting the family they were, and hid behind a huge shelving unit stacked high with pieces of refrigerators, car panels and copper pipes. From my vantage point, I could see the crowd, but I was confident that if I kept my movements to a minimum, I would remain unseen. Besides, all eyes were looking at Mantel.
There were over thirty people in the group, men and women who were under Mantel’s employment. I watched for anything that might alert me to any discomfort, a rub of an eye, the covering of a mouth by way of scratching a top lip, shifting of feet, wiping of palms, but it was harder than I thought it would be. All of them looked uncomfortable, afraid. At the back of the group, I recognised a face I had never expected to see here. PC Lee Sharman.
I was stunned, but more than that, I was torn about what I should do. George suspected Mantel had an inside man, but telling him who would mean betraying my own involvement. And I couldn’t do anything to jeopardise the money Mantel had pledged.
I felt a sudden urge to leave, to tell Mantel I had made a mistake, that I couldn’t do this. I wasn’t a criminal, I wasn’t a bent copper, I was just a mum who wanted to help her daughter. I wasn’t built for any of this. I wanted to go home. But I also knew Mantel would not let me simply stop. I was his now, and I would have to see it through or face the consequences. And my daughter, she needed me to be brave, to finish what I’d started and get her on the plane to Philadelphia. She needed me to dig deep, despite every fibre of my being telling me to run away.
As I watched the meeting, I felt my hands begin to tingle and my chest tighten. My breathing became sharp and I felt as though I wasn’t getting enough air into my body. The anxiety came from nowhere, fast and aggressive, and I had to look away for a moment, pleading with myself to stay calm. If I had a panic attack now, someone would find me and Mantel would not be pleased.
‘Get a fucking grip, Clara,’ I whispered to myself, and it seemed to do the trick, or at least just enough for me to be able to look and listen to the meeting once more.
Focused on the group again. Everyone listening knew their boss wasn’t a happy man. They feared him, so I had to rule out fear as a tell. I had to rule out discomfort, too, so instead I looked for someone who had a smugness about them, a slight smirk, a curl of the lip. Someone who was afraid, but still believed they were smarter than the man before them. Sliding the burner out of my pocket, and with shaking hands, I texted his number, not caring about the typo.
Talk aboht the robberies
Mantel paused and looked at the phone. He didn’t explain to anyone what he had just read, he didn’t need to. No one dared ask.
‘Three of my businesses have been hit, three of the businesses we have all worked hard to build with our bare hands. Three of our homes, and in total, just over thirty thousand pounds of our hard-earned money has been taken.’
Mantel continued to talk about how the robberies happened, and he mentioned someone called Baz, who had been lucky. I assumed Baz was the man injured only hours before. As he spoke, I continued to watch the men, my phone ready to take pictures of anyone who stood out. And then two men did stand out. I couldn’t put my finger on it at first, but as I looked more closely, I soon realised why they drew my attention. While everyone else was shifting, wiping sweaty palms – PC Lee Sharman included – they stood still, one with his hands in his pockets, the other arms crossed. Both were a similar height, similar build. They were either not afraid of Mantel, which I didn’t believe was possible, or maybe they knew something he didn’t. I snapped two photos, and having seen enough, I sat quietly and waited for the meeting to end.
As people began to leave, I dared to look up and as I did so, I was sure one of the men I had photographed saw me. But he didn’t pause, didn’t say anything, so I decided he must not have. Still, not wanting to take any risks, I didn’t look again until I heard Mantel speak a few minutes later.
‘They are all gone.’
Standing up and moving away from my hiding place, I looked round to see that not quite everyone had left. Beside him stood a bear of a man.
‘This is Tony.’
‘Hello, Tony,’ I replied, hoping my voice didn’t show how nervous I was feeling to be in such an isolated place with these two men.
‘Tony and I go way back. Whatever you have to say, he can hear.’
I nodded and pulled out the phone. ‘I can’t be sure, not without looking into it more, but on first glance, two men stood out.’
‘Why?’
‘They seemed too composed.’
‘Composed?’
‘Like they knew something the others didn’t. Again, it’s just what my first glance said. To be sure, I’ll need a little time.’
‘I didn’t see nothing,’ Tony spat, crossing his arms and looking at me suspiciously.
‘Tony,’ Mantel warned.
‘And I don’t trust a fucking word that comes out of your pig mouth,’ he continued, looking like he wanted to hurt me.
‘Tony, DI Goodwin isn’t a police officer right now.’
‘No? Then what is she?’
‘Someone who works for me.’
The sound of those words felt hot in my head. Like a fire poker, glowing and searing to the touch. But it was true. I was exactly that. Someone who worked for Henry Mantel. Someone who was now in his pocket. And again, the only thing that stopped me running away in that moment was my daughter.
‘So, Mrs Goodwin, who were the two that caught your eye?’
I unlocked the phone and went to the photo album. There were only two pictures in there. I handed Mantel the phone and he looked at them carefully. I tried to read his expression, the micro movements that told the story of what he was thinking. But he was unreadable. That frightened me.
‘Again, I’m not a hundred per cent. I need some time to dig.’
‘How long?’ he asked, the charm in his voice dead.
‘Two days.’
Mantel agreed and handed the phone back.
‘When you are sure, you ring me.’
‘Who are they?’
‘Mitch Tower and Billy Garrett.’
I repeated their names so I didn’t forget and turned to leave, catching Tony’s eye as I did. Whereas I couldn’t read Mantel, Tony’s distrust was written all over his face.
Back in the car, driving away as fast as I safely could, I struggled to breathe properly, wondering again what I had got myself into.
I wanted to spend the rest of the evening hiding, composing and centre myself, to try and manage the guilt and pressure I was now under. But I knew this was impossible and I needed to appear together. To eat with Mum as planned, as though it was just another day in our tricky lives and nothing more. As I arrived home and parked Mum’s car, I saw George was back from work.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
Clara
‘Hiya,’ I called as I walked into the flat.
‘Clara?’ George said, coming out of the living room at the end of the corridor.
‘Is Tabs okay?’ I asked.
‘She’s fine. Where have you been?’
‘I went for a walk, I needed some air. Cuppa?’
Before George could answer, I nipped into the kitchen and stood beside Mum who was washing up at the sink.
‘I told him he’d just missed you when he got in, so you’ve been out for half an hour on your walk,’ she said quietly, but I could see she wasn’t happy having to lie.
‘Thanks, Mum.’
George walked into the kitchen. Mum focussed back on the washing-up bowl, and I faffed with mugs, teabags, and milk, hoping George didn’t notice the slight shake in my hand.
‘Everything all right?’ he asked, clearly seeing that something wasn’t.
‘Fine,’ Mum and I said together, too quickly.
‘What’s going on?’
‘Nothing,’ Mum said. She sounded angry, and as she had finished washing up, she excused herself from the kitchen.
‘Clara?’
‘Hang on.’
Following Mum, I saw her putting on her shoes by the internal door that led down into the shop.
‘Mum?’
She didn’t say anything but disappeared down the steps. Behind me, George saw her leave and looked stunned.
‘Clara. What’s going on?’
‘Just …’ I shouted, before catching myself. ‘Just give me a minute, please?’
‘Yes, of course,’ he replied, shocked.
Going downstairs, I walked through the stock room and into the main shop. Mum was by the till, writing something down. Busying herself. I slowed my approach.
‘Mum?’
She ignored me and continued to write. She was pressing down so hard on the paper I was sure she was going to tear through it and ruin the countertop.
‘Mum, I know you don’t like lying.’
‘You’re right, I don’t but it’s not that.’
‘What is it then?’
Mum paused her scribbling on the paper and looked at me, suddenly serious.
‘What, Mum?
‘I heard a rumour about Mantel and the golf course. Is that true?’
‘Yeah. I think it is.’
Her mouth fell open and she stared at me in such a way I knew I was in trouble.
‘I didn’t know it was this heavy, Clara. I can deal with him being a criminal, I can. It’s wrong, but you’re doing it for the right reasons. But if he’s a killer, you have crossed a line that you shouldn’t have. Not only does it mean he’s the worst kind of criminal, but it also proves he is too dangerous to be around.’ Her voice was rising, and I begged her to quieten down. George was just above us, no doubt trying to listen.
‘Mum, we need money to save Tabatha, we need more than we are making at the moment. You said to me whatever it took.’
‘But I meant, take a shitty job, beg strangers. Jesus, even stealing that money from Tesco is better than working for a murderer. He wants a name from you. Have you thought what he might do with it?’
‘Mum, do you know how much money he has?’
‘Blood money.’
‘Maybe, but are we above that? You didn’t seem to mind when it was Tesco’s money.’
‘Not the same.’
‘Yes, it is. Mantel has a brand-new Range Rover; he lives on Sycamore Road in a million-pound house. Should we care about where his money is coming from? Or should we just be glad it could help to save Tabatha?’
Mum didn’t reply.
‘He is paying us twenty-five grand, and I know the risks, but it’s worth it.’
‘Be careful, Clara, there will be a price to pay for being involved with someone like him,’ she warned.
‘I know, but I also know what we can gain.’
Mum knew it too. We could gain a well child, a cancer-free baby. We could gain a future that was getting harder and harder to see. We could make sure her fifth birthday, the one I fought to see, came true.
‘I don’t like any of this, Clara,’ she said.
‘Nor do I.’
‘And once this job is done, you’re out? Yes?’
‘Yes, Mum, I promise,’ I said, though I didn’t believe Mantel would let me go just like that. ‘What do we tell George?’
‘Tell him I’m just upset about everything with Tabatha.’
‘Not sure he’ll buy that.’
‘He has to, we can’t tell him the truth, can we? Go up, tell him everything is fine. I’ll be up soon.’
‘Don’t be angry with me, Mum.’
‘I’m not angry, I’m afraid.’
She looked down, continuing to write whatever it was she was writing, only this time the anger in her scratches was gone. I wanted to tell her I loved her and I hated that I was making her worry for me. We all had enough to worry about right now. But I didn’t. I couldn’t bring myself to. Tabatha being well was the focus, and once she was well, once she was in America receiving treatment, everything else would heal.
Leaving Mum to it, I walked back up to the flat. George was sat in the living room, perched on the edge of the sofa, Tabatha asleep beside him.
‘What was that about?’ he asked as I came in and sat down on the chair opposite.
‘Mum’s just having a moment, it’s tough for all of us.’
‘And you?’
‘What about me?’
‘Are you okay?’
‘That’s a stupid question,’ I said scoffing. I regretted it immediately. ‘Sorry.’
He waved it off. ‘Jo told me you went for a walk?’
‘I needed to clear my head.’
‘But you took her car?’
Shit.
‘Yeah, I wanted to get out of the town, feel the fresh air. Anyway, want that tea?’
‘Sure.’
Making my escape, I went back to the kitchen and reboiled the kettle. To distract myself from having to lie to George, I checked the FundMyCause page. The total was climbing and it was now over £147,000. It had shot up very quickly. I clicked on the details of the donors and saw that there had been several deposits, totalling over twenty-four grand, all of which had come in a short space of time from Bernadette Clooney, Brian Cookson and Beatrice Coleman, all names with the initials BC. I was confused, Mantel had paid me for a job I hadn’t yet finished. It didn’t seem his way to trust anyone with an advance, but then I realised, it wasn’t an advance at all.
‘Oh shit.’
Mantel had closed the deal, which meant in his mind, I had done my job. But I hadn’t. I had only given him my initial thoughts on two men who looked suspicious. Nothing more. That money being there told me that in his mind, my suspicions were signposting their guilt.
Shit, what had I done? What had I done?
Walking quickly to the bathroom, I locked the door and pulled out the burner phone, turning it on and waiting for it to come to life.
‘Hurry, up, come on …’
‘Clara?’ George said from outside.
‘I’m on the loo. Make the tea, I’ll be back.’
I didn’t hear George walk away and I held my breath. After a beat, I saw his shadow disappear through the gap under the bathroom door.
Eventually the phone fired up and going to the messages, I tapped the only thread in there and hoping to God it wasn’t too late, began to type. As I did so, Reece Hunter came to mind and I had to wonder whether I had just indirectly signed a death warrant on two men.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
Henry Mantel
As the old British Racing Green Land Rover drove along the lane towards him, Mantel stepped through the warehouse towards it. He’d barely moved since his meeting took place, just stood there mulling over how he could have been so blind. He didn’t trust coppers as far as he could throw them, and he wondered if Clara Goodwin was leading him into a trap of some kind. Perhaps she was working with her husband to bring him down. But he had approached her, and she had taken money from him. Dirty money. No, he didn’t trust coppers, but he did trust a mother who would do anything to save her baby. He trusted that because it was a primal need; protecting a loved one was something that resonated with most people, even someone like him.
Also, he reasoned that despite her gaining twenty-five grand by highlighting Garrett and Tower, she knew what would happen to those who crossed him. She wouldn’t just say anyone’s name to get her money. She was the type who wouldn’t be able to live with someone’s else’s blood on her hands.
Clara Goodwin was telling him the truth.
It was Tower or Garrett, or both.
After Goodwin left, he had told Tony to find both men and bring them to him. But as the Land Rover stopped in front of him and the door opened, only Mitch Tower got out. He gingerly walked over to Mantel, his hands in his pockets. His fear was palpable.
‘Henry,’ he said, giving a tight nod once he was inside the warehouse and close enough for Mantel to see the sweat breaking on his brow. Tower turned to look behind him. Tony stood a little way back, blocking the exit. Tony smiled at Tower, but it didn’t reach his eyes.
Mantel looked past Tower and beckoned Tony with a nod of his head. Tony brushed against Tower as he passed then turned away from him. Both he and Mantel knew full well Tower wouldn’t dare move.
‘Where’s Garrett?’ Mantel asked.
‘Not at home. But he was before I got there. I asked his neighbour. Seems like he came back after the meeting and then left again quickly. The guy said he was in a panic. That’s why they noticed.’
‘I see,’ Mantel said as his phone pinged with an incoming message from Clara Goodwin.
‘Want to find out from Mitch where he is? I better take this.’
‘Leave it with me.’
Mantel walked away, further into the warehouse, away from a terrified Mitch Tower, and looked at his phone.
I have only said I suspect they could be connected. I need more time to investigate
She was bright. He had transferred the funds, as promised, and she understood exactly what that meant. She had seen that in his mind, they had concluded their business agreement.
