Page 16 of The Redemption of Alex Cade
“There’s more. Listen to this, it’s from McNally.” Kelvin fiddled with his burner phone. Detective Constable McNally, a young, ambitious, smart copper we had on the unofficial payroll, and so bent he was in knots.
I leant forward, every muscle in my body tense as I listened to McNally’s clipped tone. Coppers caught taking backhanders from strip clubs and massage parlours employing illegals… The main chance for a zealous Assistant Chief Constable with god on speed dial, an eye on the Commissioner’s job, and keen to make a name for himself kickstarting an investigation into police corruption… Everybody watching their back, making sure if dirt was thrown nothing would stick…
I slumped back into the sofa. “So what Timmins said was true.”
Kelvin nodded. “I called McNally as soon as I got his message. There’d been the odd rumour over the years about Timmins being on the take, but nothing substantial enough to prompt further investigation and never anything to indicate he had an association with us. McNally said if any notice was taken of Timmins by the higher ups, it was because he was a lazy bastard who was treading water until retirement.” Kelvin looked me full in the face. “We’ve got nothing to worry about. Especially not now he’s lying in a deep freeze in a hospital morgue. Timmins wasn’t stupid, he knew if he ever tried to point the finger at us, we had so much on him he was never going to retire on a fat pension and see out his days in his retirement bungalow with the lovely Mrs. T.
“McNally said although nothing could ever be proven, the intel he had was that Timmins had his dirty little fingers in a lot of pies and was starting to get greedy. As his call to us so very clearly demonstrated. Seems to me somebody else, somebody a lot less reasonable than us, decided he needed to be dealt with sooner rather than later. However you look at it, it’s done us a favour.” Kelvin shrugged. “He was starting to outlive his usefulness. There are smarter, younger men coming up the ranks, men like McNally. It was only a matter of time before Timmins was put out to pasture. Or on a slab.”
That was one way of putting it. Did I care that Timmins was dead? The honest answer was no. Kelvin was right. By that one phone call, the man had shown he was a problem in the making, a problem somebody else had solved for us. I rubbed at the sickness churning in my stomach.
“Who’d you reckon might have been involved if you think his death was deliberate?” If he was murdered, in other words.
“I don’t know. I’ve put feelers out and am waiting to hear back. Maybe it was a mugging gone wrong, perhaps he wasin the wrong place at the wrong time. Or, maybe, he pushed the wrong people a bit too hard. Bottom line is, somebody else took care of the severance for us.” Kelvin chuckled as he poured himself another whisky, and one for me, too. “They haven’t released the news yet, but it’s likely it’ll be announced as a street robbery. You can just hear it, can’t you? DS Timmins, an experienced and much admired upholder of the law, brutally murdered when he was looking forward to his impending retirement to spend time with his family. Makes you want to throw up.”
We sat in silence for a couple of minutes, both of us thinking through the ramifications of Timmins’ untimely demise. Maybe what had happened was just some kind of freaky fluke, but it didn’t seem likely.
“Kitten.”
“What?”
“Sweet piece, your little Kitten. Not like you to bring anybody home. I’m surprised. Not your usual M.O.” Kelvin settled deeper into the sofa, resting his head into the back rest. He appeared relaxed, except that his gaze was fixed on me as he waited for me to answer. Or rise to the bait. I took another sip of whisky, taking my time.
“He’s a friend, like I said. And his name’s Kit.”
“Alex, babe. You don’t have friends. I don’t have friends.Wedon’t have friends, not in our world. But what we do have is each other. Joined at the hip. Blood brothers. Always have been, always will be. The only other you and I need is, well, you and me. I mean, it’s not like I’m saying don’t have fun. Have fun, but know where the boundaries are.”
“I know what I’m doing.” I wasn’t sure I did, but I kept that to myself.
Kelvin pushed himself up from the sofa, the expression in his eyes almost indulgent, as he came around the back of meto pick up his jacket, thrown over the back rest. Arms wound their way around me, and Kelvin’s face rested against mine, the faint scratch of stubble he could never quite shave away prickly against my own clean shaven skin.
“I’m sure you do, babe, I’m sure you do. You just need to be careful, that’s all. Say hi to Kitten for me.” He kissed my cheek before releasing me. Behind me the door closed with a soft click, leaving behind the lingering scent of his cologne.
“His name’s Kit,” I whispered into the silence.
CHAPTER TEN
ALEX
I didn’t see Kelvin for the next few days, our contact conducted via text and kept short and sweet, which was strange as our lives were wound together like a coil of rope.
Kelvin was doing the rounds of our other businesses, keeping our employees ‘on their toes.’ Scaring the shit out of them, in other words. What he was really doing was backing off, leaving me to think about what he’d said to me, the night he’d met Kit. What he’d said was true, I couldn’t deny it; or at least at face value. So yes, I was thinking about every single word and how it had wound itself around my neck, squeezing the life out of me. I owed Kelvin everything, and I wouldn’t and couldn’t forget that. I owed him my life, and my success. But I didn’t owe him my future.
With Kit away I threw myself into work, basing myself at Euphoria. The club was busier than ever and I checked the monitors from time to time, but that was all I did. Nothingand nobody caught and held my attention. The only thing the writhing, sweat covered, semi-naked men on the dance floor represented was profit, nothing more than punters who’d paid their hefty entrance fee and were putting money over the bar.
I was usually too keyed up, when I got home, to do anything other than have a couple of whiskies, stare at the walls, and decompress. On the second day of Kit’s absence, the day of his friend’s wedding, tea had replaced the whisky as I went through the photos he’d sent me. Lots of Kit, in a smart suit and tie and hair that was far too tidy for the guy I knew, with a good looking man who was clearly the groom. More photos, from later in the day, and a video of Kit on the dance floor with a bridesmaid, attempting something that looked like a cross between salsa and a seizure, his tie missing, his jacket discarded, and his hair all over the place. I laughed, the last of the day’s tension leeching out of me as I sent him a message consisting of a line of emojis when what I really wanted was to ask him to cut and run, leave the wilds of Norfolk behind and come back to London.
My phone rang and I tapped to answer.
“Hey,” I said, throwing a glance towards Kelvin, who sat hunched over the laptop, in the office at Euphoria. There was no way I was going to have this conversation in front of Kelvin, under the hard, bright glitter of his gaze. “Give me a minute.” I slipped out and made my way to the bathroom along the hall, where I locked the door and sat on the closed lid of the toilet. “How was the wedding? It looked like you had a good time.”
I smiled as Kit groaned at me down the line.
“It was great. Beautiful church, beautiful venue, beautifulweather, but what wasn’t so beautiful was me. I got very, very drunk. Not used to drinking buckets of champagne.”
“Hmm, that video you sent of you doing something weird with your body on the dance floor says it all.” I couldn’t help smiling when Kit answered with another, longer groan.
“Don’t. And that weird thing you mention was the samba, if you don’t mind,” he said, his voice laced with laughter, making my smile grow bigger and brighter. God, but it was good to hear his voice.
