Head of the Firm Page 23

  ‘So you won’t help me then?’

  ‘I can’t, Grace. I don’t know who the shooter was. I’m not giving you the name of every hitman in the North West in the hopes you might not torture them all to death before you find the killer.’

  ‘Fine.’ Grace said as she stood up. Sol had always been a monumental arsehole, but she hadn’t expected him to turn her down flat the one and only time she had come asking for his help. Fortunately, she had one last weapon in her arsenal. ‘I thought you could help, Sol. I would have thought you’d jump at the chance for me to owe you a favour.’

  That seemed to recapture his attention and he started to walk towards her. ‘You’d owe me?’

  ‘Of course I would. If you gave me information that helped me find Paul’s killer.’

  ‘I suppose Michael would owe me too?’ he said with a glint in his eye.

  Grace groaned inwardly. A long time ago, in a previous life, Michael had worked for Sol. He’d been his best and most feared enforcer, and Sol had never quite forgiven him for leaving.

  ‘I can’t speak for my husband, and I know you wouldn’t capitalise on his grief, Sol,’ she said pointedly. ‘But I will certainly owe you one.’

  He rubbed a hand across the stubble on his chin. ‘Leave it with me and I’ll see what I can do. But understand this, even if I give you a name, it doesn’t mean they’ll know who you’re looking for. It’s not like they all belong to some club, you know. They don’t get together for dinner a few times a year and swap hints and tips,’ he sneered.

  ‘Thanks, Sol,’ she said as she resisted the urge to slap the smug grin off his face.

  Sol walked Grace to the door and showed her out. ‘I’ll be in touch in the next few days. I really hope you find the bastard who did it.’

  Grace nodded. ‘I will.’

  Chapter Seventy-Six

  Grace had returned home and had just finished dressing a wriggling Oscar when she looked up to see Michael walking into their bedroom with his mobile to his ear.

  ‘Okay, thanks,’ he said before letting his hand fall to his side.

  He closed his eyes and took a deep breath and Grace knew he’d just had the phone call he’d been waiting for all week.

  ‘Was that the police?’ she asked as she picked Oscar up and crossed the room to her husband.

  Michael nodded. ‘His body is being released to the Coroner this afternoon.’

  Grace put her free arm around him and pulled him into a hug and he rested his head on her shoulder. ‘At least that means we can lay him to rest,’ she said softly.

  He didn’t answer, but she felt his hot tears on her bare shoulder. He hadn’t cried since he’d found out Paul had been killed, seven days earlier. Since that time it had been as though he’d been in a state of non-existence, unable to see his son or make any preparations for his funeral. It was almost as though their grieving had been on pause. She pulled him tighter to her as he started to sob. Stroking the back of his neck, while their youngest son gurgled happily on her other shoulder, her heart felt like it might break for him.

  Grace was feeding Oscar when she felt the vibration of her phone in the pocket of her jeans. Being careful not to disturb her son, who was happily suckling and nodding off to sleep, she slipped it out and saw that it was Sol calling. It had only been a few hours since she’d visited him at home, and to think she’d been worried that he wouldn’t come through for her.

  ‘Hi, Sol,’ she said quietly.

  ‘I’ve got a name for you. I’ve never used this guy myself, but some contacts of mine from down south use him for all of their jobs. Lee Hanson. I’ll text you his address.’

  ‘Thanks, Sol. Like I said, I owe you one,’ Grace said before hanging up.

  Grace settled her son to sleep in his cot before phoning her brother-in-law.

  ‘Hey, Grace,’ Sean said.

  ‘I’ve got a name and an address. I want to check it out.’

  ‘Now?’

  ‘Seems as good a time as any. I’ll ask Michael to keep an eye on the kids for a couple of hours. I’ll pick you up in half an hour.’

  ‘See you then,’ Sean said and they both hung up.

  One hour later, Grace and Sean were pulling up outside Lee Hanson’s address in Ainsdale. It was a nice house on the beachfront and was clearly owned by someone with a few quid.

  Grace and Sean knocked on the front door and listened to the bolts being drawn back, before a face appeared through the small opening, which was still fastened by a chain.

  ‘Lee? Can we talk?’ Grace asked.

  The panic on Lee’s face was almost instantaneous, but before he could close the door again, Sean had kicked it with such force that it sprang open, and they saw Lee running down his hallway towards the back of his house. Running in after him, Sean only took a few long strides before he caught Lee by his shirt collar.

  ‘And just where the fuck are you running off to?’ Sean growled at him.

  Lee held his hands up in surrender. ‘I don’t know who the fuck you two are, but you don’t look like you’re here to pay me a social visit.’

  Sean let go of Lee’s shirt and pushed him into the living room. ‘Sit,’ he barked at him.

  Lee dusted himself down and sat on the sofa before taking his vape from the coffee table. ‘Mind if I?’ he said, before taking a long drag.

  Grace sat on the armchair, while Sean stood at the door in case Lee decided to make a run for it again.

  ‘Lee,’ Grace started. ‘I hear you have some very specific services for hire?’

  Lee looked at her, considering her. ‘Are you two plod?’

  Sean laughed, while Grace shook her head. ‘Not exactly. Grace Carter,’ she said as she stood up to shake his hand. ‘And this is my brother-in-law, Sean.’

  Lee shook Grace’s offered hand limply and she noted the colour draining from his face. Sitting back in the chair, Grace noticed that Lee held his vape in his left hand. He stretched his long legs out in front of him and rubbed his free hand over his shaved head.

  ‘I hear you two don’t need the services of the likes of me?’ he said with a wan smile before taking another pull of his vape.

  ‘And you’d be right,’ Grace replied. ‘But we believe someone who’s in your line of work had something to do with the murder of my stepson, and Sean’s nephew, Paul.’

  Lee nodded sagely. ‘I heard about that. Whoever took that job had a death wish!’

  Grace sensed Sean shifting his weight from one foot to the other in the background.

  ‘Hang on! You don’t think it was me, do you?’ Lee said as he pulled his legs back towards him and scooted back onto the sofa.

  ‘Well, we don’t know who it was yet,’ Grace replied. ‘That’s why we’ve come to speak to you.’

  Sensing that he was in trouble, Lee continued talking. ‘It wasn’t me. Do you think I’d be sitting in me living room watching Netflix if I’d shot Paul fucking Carter? I’d have fucked off to the other side of the world. Trust me.’

  Grace watched him. He was nervous, who wouldn’t be? But she was impressed with how cool he appeared. No fidgeting or babbling, like most would in his situation. He continued looking between her and Sean, in between taking drags of his vape.

  ‘Do you have any idea who might have done it?’ Grace asked him.

  Lee stared at her as though he was thinking. ‘Weapon?’

  ‘A Beretta.’

  ‘How did the shooter get away?’

  ‘Stolen motorbike.’

  ‘How many shots?’

  ‘One. Straight through his carotid artery.’

  ‘Left- or right-handed?’

  ‘Right,’ Grace confirmed.

  Lee sucked air through his teeth. ‘As much as we don’t like to have an MO – it’s not good for business – I like to think I can identify some of my counterparts if I have enough information.’

  ‘And can you?’ Grace asked.

  ‘I don’t do this lightly. Discretion is part of what makes me
good at what I do, you know,’ he said as he shook his head. ‘But I have heard the urban myths about what you and your brother used to do to people who crossed you.’ He nodded at Sean. ‘And I have absolutely no desire to find out if they’re true. I happen to be very attached to my bollocks – both physically and emotionally.’

  ‘So you’re going to tell us then?’ Sean growled from the corner of the room.

  Lee nodded. ‘I met Paul once. At a party.’ The memory of their encounter seemed to make him smile.

  ‘Lee?’ Grace snapped.

  ‘Zak Miller,’ he said with a shrug. ‘If I had to put money on it, I’d say it was Zak’s work.’

  Grace had never heard the name, but that was no surprise to her, having never needed the services of a professional hitman. ‘Any idea where we could find him?’ she asked.

  Lee shook his head. ‘Nah. Sorry. Used to live in Manchester, on the waterfront. But he sold that place months ago. Don’t know where he is now.’

  Grace stood up. ‘Thanks for your help, Lee.’

  ‘How can you be sure it wasn’t him?’ Sean said. ‘Why did he run if he had nothing to hide?’

  ‘Have you ever looked in the mirror, mate?’ Lee shouted from what he obviously assumed was now the relative safety of the sofa.

  Grace turned on her heel and took her car key from her coat. ‘Catch,’ she said as she threw it towards Lee, who ducked slightly but caught the key easily with one hand.

  ‘Left-handed,’ Grace said as she held out her hand, indicating for Lee to throw the key back to her, which he did, with a smile on his face.

  Grace took her mobile phone from her pocket as Sean climbed into the driver’s seat of her Audi A8 and dialled Tony Webster’s number.

  ‘Yeah,’ he said when he answered.

  ‘Webster. I need you to do something, and quickly.’

  ‘Okay,’ he replied.

  ‘I need anything you can find me on a man named Zak Miller. He was living in Manchester up until recently in the Dockside apartments. I need to know where he is – and fast. I suspect he might try and flee the country, if he hasn’t already.’

  ‘I can check with my airport contacts to see if he’s left the country, but finding out where he’s living isn’t easy, Grace,’ he said with a sigh. ‘I don’t just have a magic database of criminals, you know?’

  ‘That’s exactly what you have, you arrogant prick. And if you don’t use it to get me the information I need, I’d be more than happy to let all of your colleagues know just who you really work for.’

  ‘Now, hang on, Grace, we have a mutually beneficial arrangement—’

  ‘Mutually beneficial? I have put each of your three kids through private school and uni with the money I’ve paid you over the years, as well as funded that nice little place you’ve got yourself in the Costa Del Sol. Did you think I didn’t know about that? And apart from occasionally looking the other way, or giving me a bit of information I could just as easily get from the Liverpool Echo, you’ve done fuck all. So, get me the information I need, or our arrangement will come to an abrupt end.’

  ‘Okay. Give me a few days,’ he said. ‘I’ll do my best.’

  ‘You better fucking had,’ Grace snapped before ending the call.

  Chapter Seventy-Seven

  Grace was impressed, when, less than twenty-four hours after phoning him, DI Tony Webster came through for her with an address for Zak Miller.

  Grace dialled Sean’s number and waited for him to answer. ‘I have Zak’s address.’

  ‘Already? Did Webster get it for you?’

  ‘Yeah. I have a feeling Miller is well known to the plod, but they’ve never been able to pin anything on him.’

  ‘Makes sense,’ Sean agreed.

  ‘But we need to act fast. He’s already sold his flat in Manchester and is hiding out in his cottage in Abersoch. That’s on the market too, and priced for a quick sale. Lovely little place on the Welsh coast, it is. He’s obviously planning on going somewhere very soon. Can you get there today?’

  ‘Of course. Are you not coming?’ Sean asked.

  ‘I can’t. We’re meeting with the funeral directors today and I can’t let Michael do that on his own.’

  ‘Okay. Do you want me to deal with him straightaway?’

  ‘No. We need to find out who paid him, and Michael might want to be involved in that himself.’

  ‘Right. I’ll bring him in,’ Sean replied. ‘I’ll let you know as soon as I have him.’

  ‘Great. I’ll text you the address.’

  ‘Sound. Good luck with the funeral people,’ he said softly.

  ‘Thanks, mate,’ she replied. ‘I’ll speak to you later.’

  Grace had just shown the funeral director out when her phone started to ring. Glancing at the screen she saw it was Sean calling.

  ‘Who’s that?’ Michael nodded towards her phone as he spooned some baby rice into Oscar’s mouth.

  ‘It’s work,’ she replied, not entirely lying. ‘I’ll take it in the living room.’

  ‘Okay,’ Michael said as he went back to feeding their son.

  Grace slipped out of the kitchen before answering the call. ‘Hey,’ she said as she pressed the phone to her ear. ‘How did it go?’

  She heard Sean sigh before he answered and realised he wasn’t about to give her any good news. ‘He was dead by the time I got there, Grace.’

  ‘What? Dead? How?’

  ‘Bullet to the head. Looks like he was asleep in bed. Looked like a professional hit, and he hadn’t been dead long.’

  ‘So one hitman has taken out another?’ she asked incredulously.

  ‘Whoever paid Miller must have been trying to cover his tracks. Miller must have known something.’

  ‘So, whoever ordered the hit on Paul must have had Miller killed too?’ she whispered, conscious that Michael might overhear.

  ‘Yep. Miller was one of the best. He was well known for his discretion, but if it was a choice between dying or giving up whoever paid him to kill Paul, I’m sure he would have talked.’

  ‘Fuck,’ Grace seethed. ‘So we’re back to square one?’

  ‘Seems like it.’

  ‘For fuck’s sake.’

  ‘What do we do now?’

  ‘Leave it with me, Sean. I’ll be in touch.’

  ‘I’ll see you later anyway. I’ve persuaded Michael to come out for a drink with me and my dad for his birthday. No one feels like celebrating, but it would be good for him to get out, I think.’

  Grace nodded even though Sean couldn’t see her. ‘Yes, I think it would. What time will you be here?’

  ‘About five. We’ll grab something to eat as well.’

  ‘Good. I’ll see you later then.’

  Chapter Seventy-Eight

  After settling Oscar, Grace popped her head into Belle’s bedroom and smiled as she heard her daughter’s soft snores. She walked down the stairs and stepped into the living room, only to be stopped in her tracks by the sight of Michael standing near the sofa, a glass of brandy in his hand. The last time she had seen him was earlier that evening when Sean had picked him up to go out for a drink. She’d expected him to be out for the night.

  ‘I didn’t hear you come in. Did Sean drop you off?’ she asked.

  He ignored her question. ‘Would you have left me? If Paul was still alive, would you still be here?’

  ‘What?’ She frowned at him. ‘Where the hell has this come from?’

  ‘It’s a simple fucking question,’ he snapped.

  ‘Why does it even matter?’

  ‘Well, it might not matter to you, but it does to me. I need to know if you’re only here out of pity, or if you actually want to be with me.’

  ‘Oh, for God’s sake. Are you serious?’

  He walked towards her, downing his drink as he did and placing his empty glass on the coffee table. He stopped as he reached her, his face only inches from hers. ‘Just answer the question.’

  ‘What do you think?’ s
he snapped back at him.

  He shrugged. ‘I have no idea, to be honest. One minute you couldn’t stand to be in the same room as me. You couldn’t bear to let me touch you … and then Paul … and well, here we are.’

  ‘Of course I want to be with you.’

  ‘But you still haven’t answered my question. Would you have stayed if Paul hadn’t been killed?’ He glared at her, his eyes burning into hers as though he was trying to read her mind.

  ‘I don’t know,’ she admitted. ‘Probably.’

  ‘Probably? For fuck’s sake,’ he shouted before walking away and shaking his head.

  ‘Michael.’ She walked after him. ‘Who knows what would have happened? I was angry and hurt and I took all of that out on you. Who knows what stupid shit I might have done? But does any of that even matter now?’

  He turned to face her again, his face full of anger. ‘It fucking matters to me. I don’t want to be one of your little projects, Grace. I don’t want you here out of some sort of obligation, or, even worse, out of pity. There was a time when I thought I’d have taken you any way you’d have me, but not any more. If this isn’t real, then I’d rather not be part of it.’

  ‘Real? This is about as real as it gets, Michael! What the hell has got into you? Of course I don’t pity you. I love you. You are the only man I want to spend the rest of my life with. Why do you think it hurt me so much when you lied to me?’

  ‘I didn’t lie!’

  ‘Okay. When you hid the truth from me then.’

  He frowned at her and she wondered whether she could shake him out of this foul mood he’d come home in. It wasn’t like him at all and it was a side of him she didn’t particularly enjoy seeing.

  ‘Look, I really don’t want to go over all of that again. It’s in the past now. Can we just leave it there? So much has happened that makes all of that seem so pointless now. If you want me to tell you that things changed between us when Paul died, of course they did. Paul’s death changed both of us, fundamentally. How could it not? Neither of us will ever be the same. It would have torn us apart if we’d let it. But we didn’t. Here we are – just like you said. I don’t know why you’ve come home spoiling for an argument tonight, but I can think of at least a dozen things I’d rather be doing right now.’