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  “Good. I should be able to give you something then.”

  Ronnie watched, as the pathologist walked away. He blew out his cheeks and looked back toward the crime scene. He had a feeling this was going to be a long night.

  * * *

  After he had dried and dressed, Danny walked down the stairs. He walked through to the kitchen and stood watching Maxine, as she spooned pureed food into little Danny’s open mouth.

  “Maxine, what the hell is going on?”

  When his wife didn’t answer, Danny came to stand in front of her. “This isn’t good, babe,” he said, his voice gentle.

  Maxine looked up at her husband. She could feel her cheeks blush and hastily averted her eyes.

  “If you don’t trust me, then what does that say about our marriage?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “I just don’t understand where all of this is coming from. Is it that Jaqueline, putting ideas into your head?”

  “No, of course not,” Maxine snapped.

  “Then help me out here, Max,” Danny cried, “because, for the life of me, I don’t understand what I’m supposed to have done wrong.” Exasperated, he threw up his arms. “Well, say something.”

  When his wife didn’t answer, he sat down heavily at the breakfast bar and massaged his closed eyes. “Please, Max, will you just talk to me and tell me what’s going on? Do you want me to leave, is that what this is all about?”

  Maxine took her time in wiping over little Danny’s face with a wet wipe, before looking up at her husband. “I don’t trust you.” There, she had finally said it out loud. “Every time you walk out of that door, I feel sick to my stomach, and it’s eating away at me, driving me out of my mind.”

  Shocked, Danny’s mouth fell open. He hadn’t realised the situation was so bad. “Tell me what I can do to put this right?”

  Maxine shook her head sadly. “I don’t think there is anything you can do. The problem is already here,” she said, pointing to her temple. “It’s in my head, and I don’t think anything you say or do is ever going to change that.”

  Danny felt his heart lurch, and he closed his eyes for a moment. Swallowing deeply, he nodded his head. As his wife left the room, he sat staring into the empty space she had vacated. His marriage was clearly over.

  * * *

  Moray was looking through his paperwork, when he glanced up to see Danny walking toward his office. He could tell by his stance that something was wrong. He waited until the big man had entered the room and was sat down opposite him, before speaking. “You okay, mate?”

  Danny nodded his head. “Is everything here all right? No comebacks or anything?”

  Moray raised his eyebrows before speaking. “Not a dicky bird, mate.” He watched, as Danny continuously turned a gold lighter over in his hand. There was clearly something on his friend’s mind.

  Standing up, Moray walked toward the office door, pushed it shut, then leaned against the glass panel, with his arms folded across his chest. “What’s going on, mate?”

  Deep in thought, Danny ignored the question, without looking up he spoke. “I need to be working. I need to keep busy.”

  Moray nodded his head. “When you say work, do you mean, as in going around the clubs, checking that there aren’t any problems? Or as in finding someone to have a row with, so you can tear him apart?”

  Danny looked up. There was no emotion in his green eyes. “Whichever comes first.”

  Moray nodded his head for a second time. At least Danny was being honest. He had a feeling this was something to do with his mate’s marital problems, and knew from experience, the quicker he got it out of his system, the better. “Okay,” he said. “I’ll get Callum to go around with you tonight.”

  “I don’t need babysitting.”

  “I know. I know you’re more than capable, and let’s be honest here, that’s half the fucking problem.” He smiled to take the edge off of his words.

  Danny gave a small smile in return. The smile did not quite reach his eyes. “Right, mate. I’d better be off.”

  Moray moved aside and watched, as he walked from his office, then beckoned Callum Riley over to him. “I’m putting you with Danny tonight. Keep an eye on him,” he said, pointing a finger toward his own eyes, then across to Danny, to emphasise his request.

  Thrilled to be working with Danny McKay, the Irishman nodded his head. “Of course, boss.”

  He watched, as Callum ran across the empty dance floor, and then sighed. Maybe he should have gone himself. He knew for a fact that if he did kick off, Callum would have no chance in stopping him. “Wait,” he called out, grabbing up his overcoat as he did so. “Change of plan. Callum, you’re at The Belgrave tonight. I’ll go with Danny myself.”

  * * *

  Lloydy grinned widely, as he hobbled out of Newham Hospital, toward Big Tone’s Range Rover. “Cheers, Tone, for picking me up.”

  “No problem, mate.”

  Once he was seated in the car, Lloydy asked, “So, what happened with the clubs?”

  Big Tone shook his head and sighed. “They’re all gone, mate.”

  “Fucking hell.” Lloydy’s eyes widened. “I bet Freddie is screwing.”

  Big Tone gave a bitter laugh. “That’s an understatement.”

  “So, what’s the plan now?”

  “There’s a meeting tomorrow night. Somehow, Freddie needs to salvage something from the situation. It’s not going to be easy though, mate.”

  Lloydy a gave a low whistle. “You were right, Tone … what you said about Danny. We should have listened. I mean Terry and me.”

  Big Tone glanced sideways. “Yeah, well, I did try to warn you. We should have gone straight to Danny from the start.”

  Lloydy shifted his weight. The ache in his groin was a reminder of what Danny McKay was capable of, yet he knew without hesitation, that what the man had dished out was mild, in comparison to the damage he could have caused. “There’s nothing we can do about it now though, mate. We’re up to our necks in all of this, and I can’t see any way out, if I’m being honest.”

  “I was thinking maybe we should try and speak to him.”

  “Are you mad?” There was alarm in Lloydy’s voice. “I’m not going anywhere near that nutter, not if I can help it.”

  “So, you’re planning on hiding from him for the rest of your life, then, are you? Because you know he won’t let this drop.”

  Lloydy thought about this for a few moments, before speaking. “I’ve been thinking about just fucking off, if I’m honest, mate. All of this is getting too much for me. No matter which way we turn, we’re going to have someone after us. If it’s not McKay, it’s Freddie.”

  Big Tone sighed. “Why don’t we talk to Terry first, then decide on a plan of action?”

  Lloydy sat quietly, then nodded his head. If truth were told, he just wanted to pack a small bag and get as far away as he could. If that made him a coward, then so be it, because it had to be a lot better than the alternative.

  * * *

  Terry Stevens was a worried man. He knew, without a doubt, that he was lucky Danny McKay hadn’t caught up with him yet. Every car that passed by his house, had him jumping up from his seat. He’d convinced himself that the big man was going to turn up and batter down his front door, just to get to him.

  In his mind’s eye, Danny’s large frame became even larger, with each passing second, and if he wasn’t so scared, he would have laughed at himself for how ridiculous and paranoid he was becoming. Just the mere thought of being in Danny McKay’s presence, did that to a man.

  The screech of tyres outside his house had Terry leaping out of his seat. His heart was in his mouth, as he peered through the net curtains. He wanted to curse the broken street light, because he couldn’t see a damn thing.

  Heavy banging on the front door made him jump out of his skin. It had to be McKay. He felt his stomach lurch, and could feel beads of cold sweat break out across his already clammy forehead. He knew, only too
well, of what was to come.

  Panic-stricken, Terry looked around him for an escape route. He crept out of the lounge and began to make his way through the dining room, toward the patio doors, leading out to the back garden. If he could scale over the fence into his neighbour’s back garden, he may have a chance of escaping.

  “Terry, open up.”

  Recognising Big Tone’s voice, Terry’s body sagged with relief. He walked toward the front door, and paused, before he pulled back the locked bolts. “Who’s with you?”

  “Lloydy. Come on, mate, open up. We’re freezing our fucking nuts off out here.”

  “Is anyone else with you?”

  “It’s just me and Tone,” Lloydy shouted out.

  Relieved, Terry unlocked the door and let the men walk through, then, just as quickly, slid the heavy bolts back into position once again.

  “Are you all right, mate?” Big Tone asked, his forehead furrowed.

  “Do I look all right? You know he’s going to come for me as well, don’t you?”

  Big Tone nodded his head. “That’s why we’re here. We need to talk through our options. We need a plan of action. I’ve got an idea, and it could be the only thing that’s going to save our skin.”

  “Go on.” Terry was all ears. He was willing to do just about anything to get McKay off of his back.

  Taking a deep breath, Big Tone spoke. “Well, this is what I’m thinking.”

  * * *

  The sterile, unmistakable scent of disinfectant, which can only be found in a hospital, hit Ronnie’s nose, as he walked through a maze of corridors toward the mortuary. He glanced at his watch and cursed out loud, before picking up his pace. He knew full well that Judith Maine would start the post mortem without him if he was late.

  He made it into the morgue just in time to watch the remains being lifted onto a stainless steel table.

  “Evening, inspector,” Judith called out from behind a surgical mask, as she set about cutting away the black plastic bin bag wrapped around the body.

  Once the black bag had been removed, Judith slowly walked around the table, her eyes observing everything. “Okay then, my lovely, let’s see what happened to you, shall we?” she said, speaking to the body. “First thing’s first … we need an X-ray.”

  Ronnie watched with morbid fascination, as Judith set to work. He was more than eager to hear her results.

  Finally, Judith pulled off her mask and disrobed. “Your victim has told us quite a lot,” she smiled.

  Ronnie raised his eyebrows. “So, what can you tell me?”

  “First of all, we have a male. I would put a rough estimate to being early twenties. Do you see here?” Judith asked, pointing toward the body’s raised wrists. “This is called pugilistic attitude. It resembles a boxer’s stance when a body is subjected to extreme heat, or at least it should do. All upper limbs, for example, elbows, wrists and fingers, should be flexed upwards in a defensive pose. In your victim, only the wrists and the left knee are flexed. On the X-ray, we can see the right leg is fractured, hence why that leg is not in the expected stance. Same goes for the fingers here, on the left hand. We would expect to see them curled into a fist, but again, fractures explain the lack of a fist. What I can’t explain, is why the forearms are not flexed. There are no breaks from the wrist to elbow, so there should be nothing stopping them from flexing upwards.”

  Ronnie stood quietly, taking everything in. “Could it be possible he was restrained across his forearms?”

  “That could explain the lack of a flex, yes,” Judith replied.

  “And what about the missing fingers?”

  Judith tapped the X-ray. “You can see a number of marks across the finger bones. These were false starts. Your perpetrator more than likely found it was a lot tougher to cut through bone than they first thought, hence why it took a few attempts. I would say the weapon was a small hand saw, possibly a hack saw.”

  “How certain are you of that?”

  “Very certain. The spacing between the saw teeth are quite small, so it’s very likely to have been a small type of saw used.”

  Ronnie nodded his head. “Anything else?”

  “Yes, your victim was also stabbed twice in the sternum. This V-shape here, on the X-ray, would have been the knife hitting the bone.”

  Ronnie shook his head. “He went through it then?”

  Judith smiled sadly. “That isn’t the worst, I’m afraid. I found soot in the throat. Soot was also present below the airways. This indicates your victim was alive when the attempt to burn him took place.”

  Ronnie blew out his cheeks. “Any idea on an ID, time of death?”

  Judith shook her head. “We’ve taken dental X-rays. There is no hope for fingerprints, I’m afraid. As for time of death, I would say you’re looking at approximately two days, but I can’t tell you if the injuries were made around the exact time of death, or in the days before.”

  It was what Ronnie had been expecting. With one last look toward the victim’s remains, he thanked Judith and left the mortuary.

  * * *

  “No fucking way.”

  Big Tone rolled his eyes, agitated. “It’s the only thing we can do to get out of the shit we’re in.”

  “So, let me see if I’ve got this right. You actually want us to go and talk to the man, who is more than likely going to batter us to death? Am I hearing this right?” Terry asked. There was genuine confusion in his voice.

  “Well, do you have a better plan?”

  “Why don’t we all just fuck off somewhere?”

  Terry rounded on Lloydy. “And what do I tell my Hayley, eh? I’ve had to pack her off to her mum’s for the night, as it is. And the amount of grief that caused me, you wouldn’t believe.”

  Lloydy shook his head. “If we go and see Danny, I seriously don’t think we will come out alive.”

  “Listen,” Big Tone said, “unless the two of you can come up with something better, then the only thing we can do is speak to him, grovel on our knees, if we fucking have to. It’s got to be better than living in fear for our lives, or looking over our shoulder, every fucking day, just waiting.”

  Terry and Lloydy remained silent. They could see Big Tone had a point, but to put themselves in front of the big man, willingly, still sounded like suicide to them.

  “Why hasn’t Freddie taken control of this?”

  “I told you days ago, in my opinion, Freddie has lost his reign. He’s definitely lost control of Danny. Something is not right up here,” he said, pointing to his head. “Freddie’s losing the plot.”

  “Brilliant,” Lloydy said, with a sarcastic tone. “So, we now have two nutters to deal with?”

  “When have either of them ever been completely sane? We’ve got Freddie, a coke head, who’s paranoid as fuck, and Danny, who would kill his own granny if she got in his way,” Big Tone said bitterly.

  “Do you think this could work then?” Terry asked.

  Big Tone turned his head. “What other alternative is there? If we can get Danny to just hear us out, then I think we have a good chance.”

  Terry nodded his head. He couldn’t see what else they could do. “Okay, I’m willing to give it a try.”

  Big Tone looked to Lloydy. “Are you in, mate?”

  Lloydy took a few moments to think. Reluctantly, he agreed. As Big Tone had not-so-kindly pointed out, they had no other choice.

  * * *

  Danny drove toward East London. Moray was sat beside him.

  “I don’t want to pry, mate, but clearly, something is on your mind.”

  Danny stared straight ahead. The muscles in his forearms were taut, as he turned the steering wheel. “Women, mate. I just don’t understand them.”

  Moray nodded his head. He’d been right after all. It was marital problems causing Danny’s foul mood.

  “She thinks I’m having an affair,” Danny said, without being prompted. He needed to get it off of his chest.

  “And are you?”

&nbs
p; Danny shot Moray a sideways glance. “No, of course I’m fucking not.”

  “So, what are you going to do?”

  “I don’t know. She wants me out of the house. Suppose I’ll have to rent a place to live.”

  “And you can’t work things out with her?”

  Danny shook his head. “I’ve tried, mate, until I’m blue in the face. She doesn’t want to listen.”

  “You know, you’re always welcome to stay at my place. I’ve got a spare bedroom.”

  Danny pulled the car over to the kerb outside one of the clubs. “Thanks, mate, but if I’m being honest, I just need to be by myself. I need to process all of this.”

  Moray understood where Danny was coming from. He had felt the same when he and his wife had divorced.

  The two men climbed out of the car and strode toward the club. The music was loud, the heavy beat vibrating underneath their feet. The queue of punters, waiting to be admitted inside the venue, stretched the length of the club. Business was obviously booming.

  They walked through the doors, checking that everything was as it should be, all the while, unaware of a black Mercedes, which had been following them for the past hour. The occupants were making notes of each of the clubs they visited.

  Chapter 9

  Freddie wasn’t happy. He’d been expecting a good turnout for this meeting, and although the majority of the firm had turned up, he couldn’t help, but notice that a few were missing. He looked around him. Where the fuck were Big Tone, Lloydy and Terry Stevens? He was sure they’d been made aware of the meet. He’d ordered Matty to tell them personally.

  He grabbed hold of Matty’s elbow, and pulled the lad toward him. “Did you tell Big Tone and the others about this meeting?”

  Matty paused for a moment. He was pretty certain he had, but with all of the running about Freddie had him doing, it could well have slipped his mind.