Deadly secrets, p.13
Deadly Secrets, page 13
‘So, she was killed for the videos?’
‘I’m not sure. But I’m not staying to find out. I’m leaving Manchester tomorrow for good.’
Marty pulled away now to look her in the face. ‘Please You can’t leave; you’re the only person who can prove I didn’t kill White!’
‘Her name was Paula, and I loved her,’ she sobbed.
Marty realised he needed to change tack. When he spoke again, he spoke softly and warmly; a technique he’d used many times in the studio to get what he needed from a reluctant interviewee. ‘I’m so sorry, Rochelle. Look, I need your help to prove I didn’t kill Paula so her real killer can be brought to justice. We can do that together. Please, for me, for Paula.’
Rochelle stared straight at Marty before shaking her head. ‘No, I can’t, I’m sorry. I’ve told you everything I know. Please leave.’ She stood.
Marty was suddenly angry. He gripped Rochelle’s wrist tightly in his right hand.
‘You’re hurting me!’ she cried out,
He was not about to give up. ‘You have to help me! I can’t go back to prison. Please! I need you to talk to the police.’
‘I can’t. I’m leaving tomorrow and never coming back. I’m sorry, but I have to go,’ she said as she headed for the twin doors.
Marty leapt to his feet. ‘I’ll give you the money for your surgery!’ he blurted.
Rochelle stopped and turned to face Marty. ‘Twenty thousand pounds?’
Marty nodded. ‘Yes, if that’s what it costs. I’ll give you the twenty grand and you can disappear, become who you really want – who Paula wanted you to be.’
Rochelle stood watching him, and Marty’s face softened as he tried desperately to persuade her. ‘Just give me Paula’s necklace. I’ll get you the money and you can leave the country before I share it with anyone, I promise.’
Rochelle stepped back closer to him now. ‘I want it in cash.’
‘Of course, whatever you want.’
Rochelle nodded her agreement. ‘Meet me near the airport tomorrow night,’ she said handing him her business card. ‘Text me your number tomorrow and I’ll send you the location when it’s safe. Bring the cash. Just you. Anyone else comes near me and the deal is off. I’ll disappear.’
‘OK, sure. I can do that,’ Marty said, realising he had just over thirteen hours to find twenty grand.
‘You bring the cash tomorrow, I’ll give you everything.’
Marty nodded without speaking.
‘I have to go now,’ Rochelle said, and headed towards the door. ‘I’ll tell reception you changed your mind. The doors will unlock automatically. You’ll only pay the booking fee.’
Marty opened his mouth to speak, but Rochelle was already gone.
35
Bounding through the reception area, Marty rushed past Drake without speaking. He nodded quickly to the girl behind the desk, who was talking on the phone, as he dropped two twenty-pound notes on the counter. ‘I changed my mind,’ he mumbled, and continued walking at pace as Drake let out an audible grunt of disgust. Marty could have sworn he heard the word ‘homo’ muttered behind him.
Outside on the darkened main street, he grabbed at his iPhone; finally, a signal. He punched in the access code and hit the flashing voicemail button as it pinged twice, indicating two new messages. The first was from Rob, urging caution on whatever he was planning, that he wanted to meet – to talk, before Marty did something he may regret.
The second was from Nic, her sharp public-school tones cutting and acidic. ‘Marty, what the hell are you doing at The Purple Door? Seriously, I’m trying very hard to keep you out of prison, but you are not helping. If you value your freedom, call me the moment you get this! The moment!’
How had she known he was at The Purple Door? He picked out Nic’s number from his favourites and dialled. It seemed to take an age for her to answer. When she finally did, her tone left Marty in no doubt she wasn’t happy.
‘Finally! I’ve been calling you for over an hour. Where are you?’
‘Look, I know what you’re going to say, Nic, but I had to see Rochelle tonight.’
‘Look Marty,’ Nic cut across him, her tone urgent and anxious, ‘if you’re anywhere near The Purple Door, get away right now. Run as fast as you can and as far away as possible. The police will be there in a matter of minutes! They’re on their way to arrest you right now.’
‘The police? But how could they possibly know I was here?’
As if on cue, the sound of sirens in the distance wafted on the evening breeze, getting louder as they approached from the city centre.
‘That’s not important, Marty. If you want to stay out of Hawk Green, you need to get away now.’
‘OK, I’m on the Ducati; I can be miles away in minutes.’
‘No, Marty, you can’t use the bike; the police are already looking for it and it’s hardly quiet. You’ll have to go on foot.’
‘But where?’
‘I don’t know Marty; use your imagination. Just bloody run, now! I’ll call again soon.’
He did not wait for Nic to finish. He killed the call and ran up Manley Road towards the intersection with Spring Bridge Street. Once he reached it, he shot a glance left and right as the sirens howled ever louder behind him; he guessed they were just a couple of streets away now. Running like a child with his head down, he darted left towards Alexandra Park, zigzagging his way through the parked cars on the darkened street as he tried to stay out of sight of the police cars, which had come to a stop somewhere behind him. He was out of shape and his prison injuries had still not healed, making progress much slower than needed.
As he reached the park and entered through the gate by the pond, he was sure he heard footsteps from the shadows, but when he stopped to focus on where they were coming from, he saw nothing. Had he imagined it? He took a few seconds to catch his breath; his heart was beating so quickly it felt like it could burst. Still, he had to keep moving. He checked once more for a tail, but saw nothing, so moved on quickly through the shadows of the trees as fast as his heavy legs and burning lungs would allow. Finally, when he was sure he was far enough away from the sirens, he stopped in the darkness, slumping against a wide tree trunk as he gasped for air.
Still struggling to regulate his breathing and slow his heart rate, he squatted, steadying himself on his fingertips before falling fully onto his hands and knees. He coughed as he retched, the lactic acid surging through him making him nauseous and light-headed.
His phone rang loudly, causing him to fear it would give away his location. Grabbing wildly for it, he wiped his drooling mouth before swiping the answer icon to the unknown Manchester number, but said nothing.
Nic’s tone was tense. ‘Marty? Is that you? Are you OK? Did you get away?’
‘Yes…’ he said weakly, between short breaths. ‘How…did you…know about The Purple Door and the police?’ he asked as he rolled heavily onto his backside and leaned back against the tree, his eyes scanning the area towards Spring Bridge Street.
‘The chap I had looking for Rochelle spotted you going in and called me,’ she said.
Marty’s breathing was slowly returning somewhere near to normal. ‘You had him follow me?’ he rasped.
‘No, he was stationed outside.’
‘But I didn’t see him,’ Marty protested.
‘Of course you didn’t, and that’s why I pay him three hundred pounds an hour. You weren’t supposed to see him, and neither was Rochelle. His plan was to follow her home tonight and, shall we say, persuade her to talk to us.’
‘That still doesn’t explain how the police knew I was there.’
‘I must admit that bit is puzzling. But then, this is the GMP – they have eyes and spies everywhere.’
‘But how did you know they were coming for me?’ he asked.
‘My chap is well-connected; he also has a police scanner, and your name came up just after you walked out of The Purple Door. He contacted me immediately. I was on the phone to him when you called, actually; thank God for “call waiting” or you’d be heading back to Hawk Green.’
‘I’m never going back there, Nic. I’m a dead man if I do.’
‘I understand, Marty, but I’m afraid to say it’s looking more likely now.’
‘But I didn’t do anything!’ Marty protested.
‘The simple fact is, you broke the terms of your bail. It’s unlikely the prosecution or judge will let you stay on the street. Your best bet is to meet me at my office and we’ll work out a plan to talk to Josh Lei. Ask for forgiveness; say it was a moment of madness from a desperate man. See if I can get you into a low security detention centre until the trial, in isolation for your own protection. It’s the best we can hope for now.’
‘Best we can hope for? No chance, no way, Nic. I’m not spending another night in prison, ever again – I’d rather die. I’m meeting Rochelle tomorrow. She has copies of videos she thinks could help me prove I was set up. White gave them to her as security.’
Nic snorted. ‘And you believe her? A call-girl?’
‘Seriously, what choice do I have? Right now, my life is over. I have to believe there’s a way out of this, and I need your help!’
Nic paused for a moment on the other end of the phone.
‘Look, Marty, I know you’re scared and want out of this situation, but we have to be clever. Let me come and get you and we can work this out together. I can talk to the prosecution; keep you safe. Why not let me talk to Rochelle on your behalf. That way I can protect you.’
Marty was in no mood to surrender or put his life in the hands of anyone else. ‘No Nic,’ he insisted. ‘I’m doing it my way. I’m meeting Rochelle tomorrow. I need to make sure she comes through as promised.’
‘Are you saying you don’t trust me?’ Nic said, clearly agitated.
‘Look, I don’t trust anyone right now. My life is on the line and I’ll do whatever it takes to protect myself.’
There was a long pause before Nic finally responded. ‘OK, Marty, we can do it your way, but please, let me help you. You need to listen to my instructions carefully if you’re going to stay out of custody.’
‘OK,’ Marty said, getting to his feet. ‘But be quick, I need to keep moving.’
‘Well, you can’t go home; my guy says they’ve already sent a couple of cars to your place in case you show up.’
‘Shit! Well I guess I’ll have to get to my mum’s place.’
‘Not a good idea, I’m afraid. They’ll be all over that within the hour.’
‘You’re really not helping, Nic!’ Marty barked.
‘Don’t shoot the messenger, Marty. This is your reality right now. Your best option is a faceless hotel. Somewhere with an automated check-in like a Premier Inn. I can send you my business credit card details to use.’
Marty considered what Nic was saying before responding. ‘OK, there’s one by the Mancunian Way I can try. It’s out of the way and hopefully full of tourists.’
‘Great. And please, make sure you don’t call anyone you know, not even Rob, as the police can trace it.’
‘But what about this call now?’ Marty asked.
‘Payphone,’ Nic said very matter-of-factly. ‘I’ve been in the game a long time, Marty; I know how to play it. That said, they’ll be tracing your mobile soon enough, so I need info as quickly as possible, and then you need to switch off your phone.’
Marty could not comprehend the conversation he was having with his own lawyer. It was like something from a spy movie…on the run, stay under the radar, off-grid…totally surreal.
Nic continued with her instructions. ‘Now remember, pay cash. Avoid ATMs like the plague. Your credit cards are no good to you now. Aside from walking into Ashton House, using a credit card is the quickest way to get yourself caught. I’ll call you again in an hour.’
‘Right! Got it,’ Marty said.
There was a pregnant pause.
‘What is it, Marty?’ Nic asked eventually.
‘Look, I’m gonna need some cash.’
‘OK, that makes sense, how much do you need?’
Marty hesitated a moment. ‘Twenty grand.’
‘Twenty grand? Jesus, Marty! What for?’
‘It’s a long story…’
‘It always bloody is with you!’ Nic said, half laughing. ‘We clearly don’t have time for that, so best you give me the super-quick version!’
36
Alexandra Park fell quiet around Marty as he switched off his iPhone, pushing it into his jeans pocket. The sound of cars running along the Princess Parkway dual-carriageway a hundred feet away was the only sound in the night.
Nic had assured him she would do her utmost to raise the £20,000 in time for his meet with Rochelle, but was unable to guarantee the money in cash, which would almost certainly be a problem. He racked his brain for a way to access the cash himself, drawing a frustrating blank at every turn. He would have to hope Nic would come through.
Content he had not been spotted, he scanned the grassland and trees around him and began to relax for a moment. The sound of cracking wood caused him to tense. His eyes darted back and forth across the trees and shadows, but he saw nothing. Cautiously, he lifted himself up onto his feet as he continued to search the darkness around him. There was another loud crack, closer this time.
A burst of adrenaline shot through Marty’s body and his heart began pounding so loudly he could no longer hear anything else. His head whipped left and right, but he found nothing in the darkness. He was rooted to the spot, as if glued to the ground. His heart pounded louder, each beat gaining pace with every second that passed. His mouth bone-dry, he desperately needed to swallow, but feared the loud crack of his throat would give him away. Regaining control of his limbs, he began to edge sideways to an illuminated area of the park, about fifty feet from his current position and close to the road. Step by step, he moved closer to the light. Another loud crack, in front of him this time, stopped him in his tracks. Holding his breath, he attempted to remain unheard.
As a silhouette came into view, an icy chill ran the length of his body. The athletically-built man was well over six foot. He stood motionless in the darkness, staring straight at Marty, a hooded top casting his face in darkness. Like a Mexican standoff, both men said nothing.
Suddenly Marty’s feet moved without instruction, stepping slowly backwards at first, then quickly gaining momentum as he turned to the right of the silhouette and began sprinting towards the road. The man immediately followed. Marty’s legs and lungs burned as he drove them into action. At forty-two and weighing over sixteen stone, he felt like he was running through treacle as the loud and rapid footsteps behind him drew ever closer. He could hear Nic’s words now – Run, Marty, run!
Lifting his knees high and pumping his arms, he picked up speed, but the man directly behind him matched him step for step. Still he pushed every fibre of his body, but he could feel the man gaining ground to within touching distance – Run, Marty, run! It was no use. A split second later, the full weight of his pursuer enveloped him, forcing him to the ground.
Winded and lying with his face in the grass, he tried to shout for help, but there was no air in his lungs as the man lay heavily upon him. Marty’s mind flashed back to Hawk Green and he began to kick out, jabbing his elbows backwards. But whoever was above him was too strong and he quickly found himself flipped over onto his back. The man used his knees to subdue Marty’s flailing arms before placing his thick, heavy hands over Marty’s nose and mouth. He moved his face closer, the hooded top still hiding his features.
‘Hold still and be quiet… I’m here to help you, Marty.’
Despite the man’s reassurances, Marty still felt a desperate need to get away. He began to wriggle like a rugby league player breaking loose from a tackle. He tried again to shout through the hands covering his mouth.
‘Shut the fuck up or we’re both dead!’ the man added, his face suddenly within inches of Marty’s, and visible in the glare of the street lights from the Parkway. Marty stopped struggling and stared up at a face he recognised – that of Simon Williams, the Guardian reporter.
‘I’m taking my hands away now, Marty, so I’m trusting you to be quiet,’ Williams whispered, nodding as he released his grip. He lifted himself off Marty’s chest before kneeling silently on the grass.
Marty pulled himself up onto his hands and stared at Williams. After a long moment of silence, he finally spoke. ‘What are you doing?’
‘I’m trying to save your life, you idiot.’
Marty was even more confused. ‘Save my life? From what?’
‘More like from whom,’ Williams said.
‘What do you mean? The police?’
Williams looked around them before speaking. ‘Look Marty, it’s complicated, but the long and the short of it is, I’m one of the few people in the world who doesn’t think you killed White. In fact, I have good reason to believe you were set up to take the fall for her murder.’
Marty shifted awkwardly on his hands for a moment before joining Williams on his knees.
‘I knew it! Who set me up? Who was it? Tell me!’ Marty said, a bit too loudly.
‘Ssh! Not here. It’s not safe. You need to come with me now.’
Marty lifted himself up onto his feet. ‘No fucking way. I’m not going anywhere with you or anyone else, for that matter. Not now, not ever,’ he said.
‘I know this is tough for you to believe, but I can promise you I’m not trying to set you up. I really do want to help you.’
‘Why? What’s in it for you?’
‘The story, of course; the exclusive,’ replied Williams.
‘What exclusive?’
‘Come with me and I’ll explain. Trust me; you need to hear what I have to say.’
Marty shook his head and began to walk away, in the direction of the Parkway. ‘No thanks, I need to get away from here and out of sight. I’m not going back to Hawk Green.’
