The Price, page 9
‘Of course, love. Of course.’
‘Has there been anything from Philadelphia yet?’
‘Nothing so far’
‘It’s been six days, what does that mean?’
‘Try not to overthink it,’ was all Mum could say by way of comfort.
‘Mum, I need Tabatha in that trial.’
‘I know.’
‘No, I don’t want this as a plan B. I need her on that plane, I need her to be in Philadelphia. Even if she starts to respond to treatment here, I need her on that Floxiline programme.’
‘Clara, are you all right? What’s happened?’
‘It’s Sadie. From the support group. Her daughter has the same cancer as Tabs. She was doing so well, Sadie was so sure she was beating it. She looked like she was doing better, too. But they had to transfer her to Great Ormond Street.’
‘Oh love.’ Mum said, taking my hand. ‘They have some of the best doctors in the world there, I’m sure they are doing everything they can.’
‘I know,’ I said, wiping away a tear. ‘But I’m not letting that happen to my girl. We both know the drug seems to be working, I need my daughter to have it. Whatever the cost.’
‘And I’m with you, every step,’ Mum said, giving my hand another reassuring squeeze. ‘Do you want me to make you a coffee?’
‘No thanks. I’m going to go up to the flat. I don’t really want to talk to anyone at the moment.’
‘I understand. I’ll come up as soon as I lock up.’
‘Thanks, Mum.’
After what had happened to Sadie and Sophie, I was realising that this fight was not just against the disease that was taking over Tabatha’s body, but against time. Poor Sophie had proved that now. The fundraising target on our FundMyCause page was creeping up and we were at just under fifty grand now. It was a lot, but still less than a quarter of what we needed. Still so short. We only had nine days until we missed our window and the next trial wasn’t for another six months. Time was the enemy, and it was now a race against the enemy to raise the rest of the money and get Tabatha on the trial that could potentially save her life.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
George
Sat at my desk, I reviewed the reports and looked at the photos taken at the crime scene. I could almost see the attack play out in my mind. A story told by the marks, cuts, bruises and breaks on the dead man’s body. Reece Hunter was a bad man, sure, but he didn’t deserve to die, especially in such a violent attack. It fuelled my anger at what Mantel had been allowed to get away with it but strengthened my resolve to bring him to justice at last. Even though I knew Mercer wouldn’t be happy with it, I decided I would go and pay Mantel a visit. I wanted him to know I was watching. I wanted him to crack. I’d show up not as a police officer, but as a customer wanting to book my car into his garage. Mantel would be aware that I knew the truth about Reece Hunter and that we were onto him. I wouldn’t need to say it, of course, but I wanted him to understand I was going to stay close and would be ready when the time came. Just as I was about to leave, Mercer popped her head out of her office.
‘Mike, George. Warrant approved. We can listen to Mantel’s calls. A team is going into place right now,’ she said.
‘Great, thanks Ma’am.’
‘George?’
‘Yes Ma’am?’
‘You are going home, I hope?’
‘Ma’am?’
‘You look exhausted. Go home, be with your family.’
‘I’m all right.’
‘George, you’re pulling some serious shifts, and I understand why, I do. But please, go home, be with your family, even if it’s for a few hours. Freshen up. You won’t be docked any overtime. We’ll call if there are any significant developments.’
‘Thank you, Ma’am, I’ll head home for an hour or so,’ I said, leaving out the fact that I was going via Mantel’s garage. It was my excuse to leave the office and I was grateful for the good fortune. Feeling like we had taken another step closer to finally being able to arrest Mantel, I headed into town.
Parking the car on the road outside the garage I locked it and approached Mantel’s place of business. As I opened the door to the reception of the garage, I saw a kid I knew called Ethan and smiled. Ethan didn’t smile back.
I looked into the workshop, my eye scanning the staff before turning my attention to the upstairs office. I could make out someone up there, it had to be him.
‘DS Goodwin?’
‘Hello, Ethan.’
‘I ain’t done nothing.’
‘Well, that’s not at all guilty, is it?’
‘I’m telling you, whatever it is, I’m not involved.’
‘Ethan, calm down. I’m not on duty, I just want to book my car in.’
‘Oh.’
‘I swear.’
‘You had me worried.’ He laughed nervously. ‘I promise I ain’t done nothing since I got caught.’
‘Ethan, that was two years ago now. It’s okay to leave it behind.’
‘Yeah, well, my mum hasn’t; she’s still on at me now.’
‘You shouldn’t have shoplifted.’
‘Yeah, I know.’ He shrugged, resigned to his mistake.
‘I’m glad you’re doing well now, Ethan,’ I said, meaning it. Not many kids turned things around for themselves. Ethan had, and despite him working here, I knew he wasn’t involved in any of Mantel’s dodgy dealings. Mantel was a dangerous man, but Ethan’s mother was something else. I watched as Ethan looked at the computer screen in front of him.
‘What are you booking your car in for?’ he asked.
‘I need new tyres, and think I’ll need my brakes checking, too.’
‘We can slot you in on Friday. Can you drop it off around nine, leave it with us for the day?’
‘Sounds great. Hey, listen, it’s cheeky, I know, but do you guys offer discount for the services. Like blue light discount, or key worker discount or something?’
‘No, I don’t think we do.’
‘Could you check?’
‘I really don’t think—’
‘Could you ask the boss? You never know.’
Ethan made no attempt to hide his annoyance that I was sending him on a fool’s errand as he got up and marched through the workshop toward the stairs. I waited until he was out of range, before opening the adjoining door from the reception to the workshop floor, to watch what happened. Ethan got to the top of the stairs and knocked. I saw Mantel stand up, coming into view though the glass. Why was he sitting on the floor? He waved Ethan in. I watched as the kid went inside gingerly. I couldn’t hear what he asked, of course, but I could hear Mantel’s reply, everyone could.
‘I’m trying to run a fucking business. No, no one gets a discount. I don’t give a shit who he is.’
Ethan scurried out of the office and back down the stairs, and as he walked back to the reception, I stepped away from the door. I watched through the glass as the other mechanics gave the kid a knowing smile and could almost hear them say, ‘We’ve all been there. Don’t take it to heart.’ When he came back into the reception area, his cheeks were flushed.
‘Unfortunately, the owner said we don’t offer any discounts.’
‘No worries, thank you for asking. And if I see your mum, I promise not to mention we’ve spoken.’
‘Thanks, she’d only assume the worst.’
‘Keep your head down, yeah?’
I smiled at him and left. As I opened the car door, I glanced upward towards the office again. It didn’t take long for Mantel to show his face. He stepped out onto the metal platform outside his office, and our eyes met. Mantel didn’t move. He stood there staring, then pulled his phone out of his pocket, answered it, and went back inside. He closed the door, but not before giving me one final menacing glare through the glass before disappearing back to his desk.
‘Yes, motherfucker, I’m watching,’ I muttered under my breath. ‘And pretty soon, I’ll be listening, too.’
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Clara
Even though I was exhausted, both physically and emotionally, I couldn’t sit still, so as Tabs napped, I tidied the flat, put on a load of washing, dusted the furniture and mopped the floor in a vain attempt to stop myself thinking. Always thinking. If exhaustion didn’t floor me, thinking would. And despite trying to stop myself, I couldn’t shift the image of what Sadie must be going through. For Sophie to be transferred to Great Ormond Street, it was impossible not to fear the worst. I sent her another message, letting her know I was thinking of her and that I was here if she needed to talk. Again, the message remained unread.
Just as I felt myself begin to close my eyes and drift off, I heard the front door open.
‘Mum?’ I called out confused; she’d mentioned she wouldn’t be finished at the shop until later.
‘No, it’s me.’
Hearing George’s voice, I got up, and met in him the hallway.
‘I wasn’t expecting you home?’
‘Mercer told me to, said I look tired.’
‘You do look tired,’ I said. ’What about the overtime though?
‘She isn’t going to dock me.’
‘That’s good.’
‘How are you?’ he asked, and I shook my head.
‘You know Sadie, my friend from the support group?’
‘Yeah?’
‘Her baby is sick, really sick.’
‘Oh,’ he said, offering no more.
‘Her daughter, she has the same cancer as Tabs and I …’
I trailed off as I started to cry.
‘Oh, Clara, love,’ George said, stepping towards me and wrapping me in his arms. ‘I’m sorry. I can’t imagine how horrible this feels. But don’t think that because it’s the same cancer, it will have the same outcome. This is why I have been worried about you going to the group so often. You have so much on your plate without worrying for other families.’
‘George!’ I said, pulling away from him.
‘We know how the world works, we’ve seen it in our jobs. Life is sometimes cruel. But that doesn’t mean because one family is having a tough time, we will too. It’s not the same. I’m really sorry for what is happening to your friend, but your friend isn’t us, her baby isn’t Tabatha.’
‘It’s just hard not to think the worst.’
‘It’s so hard. But you can’t.’
‘I know.’
‘Do you want a cuppa?’ he asked, his voice soft and caring.
‘Please.’
‘Go sit down, and as impossible as it is, try not to think about it too much.’
‘I’ll try.’
I went into the living room and wiped my tears, listening to my husband in the kitchen taking cups from the cupboard and filling up the kettle; for the first time in a long time, I felt something akin to closeness with him. This felt almost normal, and I wanted to hold onto it, so instead of sitting, I checked on Tabs before heading to the kitchen to be with George. As I opened the door, I saw him leaning against the side, his back to me. He looked tired and defeated. I wanted to return the hug he had just gifted, hopefully lift him as he had just lifted me, but his phone pinged and he pulled it from his pocket.
I expected him to read a message, but instead Mike’s voice came through on a voice note.
‘Hey, buddy. So, we got a hit. You’ve got a copy of it in your inbox. See what you make of it, because if I’m honest, I don’t have a clue.’
George logged into his emails, still unaware of my presence in the doorway, and played a conversation between two people. The sound quality wasn’t great, but I could hear well enough.
‘It’s been 24 hours.’
‘No, it hasn’t.’
‘It’s been long enough. And we don’t like to be kept waiting. So what are you going to do about it?’
‘As I said to you, nothing will be traceable to you.’
‘How long until you repay your debt?’
‘One week and it will all be back with you, untraceable as promised.’
‘You wouldn’t be lying to us now, would you?’
‘I have a reserve, it will come, it just needs to be processed, nothing more.’
‘You have a week. Or we will find our own way to reclaim what is ours.’
George played the recording a second time, but sensing my presence there, hastily paused it.
‘Shit, you made me jump,’ he said.
‘Sorry. What was that?’
‘It doesn’t matter. Just work stuff.’
‘Play it again.’
‘No, I shouldn’t be bringing it home with—’
I cut him off. ‘Please, I want to hear it.’
‘Why?’
‘I don’t know, for something normal,’ I answered, unsure how else to explain that I needed something to remind me of a time when life wasn’t so hard. When this would have been the biggest thing we had to deal with. A time when I was in control of my life. Thankfully, I didn’t need to try and explain any more as George looked at me for a moment, weighing up whether it was a good idea, then he pressed play.
I stepped closer to him, our shoulders touching as I looked at the phone and focused on what was being said.
‘So that’s Mantel’s phone?’ I asked once it had finished.
‘Yep.’
‘And the other person?’
‘No idea.’
‘He’s struggling right now,’ I said.
‘Mantel?’
‘Uh-huh.’
‘Struggling, what do you mean?’ George asked.
‘The need to clarify he had more time, the reiterating it won’t be traceable, the fact he didn’t hang up first. Whoever that person is, Mantel is not their boss, and I think he’s afraid.’
‘You think so?’
‘Yeah, I do. At that raid, how much did you seize?’
‘Tens of thousands. Drugs too.’
‘That’s a lot to owe.’
‘Henry Mantel has a lot of money.’
‘He does, but he said he needs time to process it, and none of it will be able to be traced back. The money he has needs to go back clean. That takes time, even more because you have him under surveillance. Mantel can’t just hand over a ton of cash. It has to be accounted for; it has to be legitimate or it incriminates him and whoever that other person is.’
‘Clara, why are you doing this?’
‘What?’
‘Profiling him. You get so upset when I think about work.’
‘I just want to feel like me, I guess. You might not get it—’
‘No, I do, it makes total sense,’ George reassured me. ‘So, you think Mantel has cash?’
‘He said so himself. My take on Mantel is he is a man who is used to things going his way. Now you’ve interrupted that the pressure will get to him, he’ll make a mistake.’
‘You seem certain about this.’
‘I can’t be, of course, but that’s what my gut tells me.’
‘So, I should stay close?’
‘But not too close. Just close enough for him to feel the pressure. In the call, they told him that he had a week. It will be interesting to see what happens after that.’
‘They might kill him?’
‘I think he’ll make a mistake before the week is up.’
‘Thanks, love. I needed this,’ George said.
‘I kinda needed it too.’
‘Feels like old times, doesn’t it?’
‘Yeah, it does,’ I replied, feeling that there might be hope for me and George after all. Work used to bring us together so maybe, if I helped a little, it would keep us together. And it would be good for me to have something to think about other than hospital appointments and drug trials.
‘Clara, I’m going to go back soon, unless I should stay?’
‘No, its fine, I wasn’t expecting you back at all. I’m glad you did come though, I’m glad I saw you.’
‘Me too,’ he said.
George made my tea, as promised, and walked past me towards our bedroom where Tabatha lay asleep. I hung back and watched as he gave Tabatha a gentle kiss on her forehead.
‘I love you, my baby. Daddy will be home later.’
He stood and watched her for a full minute before wiping his eyes and turning to look at me.
‘I don’t like leaving you alone.’
‘No?’
‘Never have. I just—’
‘It’s fine, Mum is coming up to join me after work. She’s going to stay the night. Hopefully I’ll be able to get a little sleep.’
‘Great.’
George walked towards me and hugged me again.
‘I do love you, Clara,’ he said, and before I could reply, he stepped outside, closing the door behind him, and was gone.
I smiled because of what he just said, but then I wondered, had he told me he loved me because it felt right, or because he felt he had to? And was it the love we once had, or had it evolved into something else? I couldn’t tell.
23RD JULY 2023
8 days until the deadline …
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Henry Mantel
When Mantel received the call about his café being robbed, it was a little after six in the morning. The call was short and straight to the point. Even with his mind slow with sleep, he understood exactly what had happened, and why. He arrived at the café an hour later, a solitary police car was parked outside, and talking to a police officer just inside was Janice, the café manager. He surveyed the place as he walked in. Everything seemed to be where it should be and there was nothing that looked out of the ordinary. He smiled, trying to appear cool.
‘Hi Janice. Is anything missing?’ Mantel asked, not caring if he was interrupting.
‘Hi Henry, I was just explaining to DS, sorry I can’t remember your name?’
‘Mike Cole’
‘I was just explaining to DS Cole that they got into the till.’
‘How much was in there?’
‘Just the fifty pound float, as always.’
‘A fifty pound float?’ Mike asked.
‘Yes, at the end of each day I put the daily takings in the safe, except a fifty pound float in coins and some notes, for the following day,’ Janice said.
