Authors: Lee Weeks
She crouched down and examined the earth. There were marks where hands had patted and smoothed it over. Della stood and went to the hut and pulled open the wooden door. Inside was so dark that
Della got out her phone to get a better look. She bent double, went inside and took some photos. She smelled the air. There was some lingering scent that she couldn’t quite recognise and
there was the smell of wet earth where the rain had seeped in and settled. Della tried to work out if a child could have been inside. There was nothing left inside. The earth floor looked clean,
thought Della, too clean. Where was the natural debris? It was too staged.
As she turned to come out she froze. The scene from the previous evening came back to her. Tony and Sandra and Marco? They were there with her when . . . She remembered the face in the earth;
now she knew what she had remembered was real – someone had been buried in the ground in front of her.
Della stood for a while trying hard to put the whole picture together. She stared at the flattened earth. She walked a few paces forwards and pressed her foot into the ground. It gave slightly
on the freshly dug earth. She recoiled and she remembered being pressed into the earth and not being able to breathe.
She ran back to the villa. She spent the afternoon in her bedroom. She heard Marco coming and going. She had expected to hear from Laurence before he left for the airport with Harold. He always
used to come down to spend the last hour with her and Eddie whenever he came to stay at Villa Cassandra, then Eddie would give him a lift to the airport. But not this time. She heard Marco throw
his keys onto the kitchen counter. She guessed he must have taken them all to Málaga Airport.
Della went into the bathroom and bent over as she held the cold shower over her throbbing head. The pain was blinding; she was bruised on her legs, on her arms, her stomach. Her ribcage was
turning black with bruising. Her neck was strained as if she had whiplash. She was still struggling to grasp what had occurred the night before. How out of control they had all become! She was
feeling a type of blind panic she wasn’t sure she could deal with.
When she came back into the bedroom she saw that she’d had a missed call from Laurence. She rang him back. He was ringing from a UK airport. She could hear the sounds of planes being
announced in the background.
‘They attacked me last night, Laurence.’
‘What do you mean? Who?’
‘Sandra, Tony, Marco. All of them. Did you know?’
‘Of course not. Della, there’s no way I would have let them hurt you. What happened?’
‘They were going to kill me. I’m bruised and battered, Laurie. You have to help me.’
‘I will come back to Spain as soon as I can, Della. I intend to help you in every way I can. Keep calm. Just tell me what happened last night.’
‘Sandra slipped something in my drink.’
‘You’re sure?’
‘Yes. Debbie confirmed it.’
‘She wouldn’t have done that.’
‘If I just stay here I’ll end up in a shallow grave like the lawyer who Tony got to alter Eddie’s will. I phoned his practice to speak to him, he’s not been seen for two
days and I have some pretty horrible memories from last night, one of which was seeing him! Oh my God, Laurence, I’m just sitting here, waiting to be murdered.’
‘Della, you need to keep calm.’
‘I’m going to have to do something. You weren’t there. Sandra will do anything to get rid of me. I’m telling you, Laurence: they’re after my blood.’
‘I said I’ll help you, Della. Tony has asked me to take over Paradise Villas and I have agreed, but only to stop it going under.’
‘You see! That’s my business, by right. What the hell is going on?’
‘Tony has got it signed over to himself. He’s managed to have Eddie’s will altered. I don’t know how. I hope it’s not what you think; but, if there’s any
truth in that, if you think you’re right about a body out there, then don’t go near it. Tony is worse than I’ve ever seen him.’
‘How can he do this to me?’
‘I don’t know. But rest assured: I’m looking after your interests, Della. And, maybe it’s best this way for now, give things a chance to settle down. As soon as things
calm down, I’ll get it signed back to you, I promise, and I’ll make sure I look after it for you in the meantime.’
‘Why does he even want Eddie’s business? What does he need it for?’
‘He says he wants to see it expand.’
‘Expand? Bollocks! He wants to launder money through it, I expect. You be careful, Laurence, he’ll have you breaking the law before you know it.’
‘I’ll be careful.’
‘He’s a bastard taking that away from me.’
‘I know. I understand, Della, but it’s not gone. I’m caretaking it for you. I’m going to give it back to you when I can, promise. You know, I’ve always been fond of
you, Della.’
‘Eddie would be grateful to you, Laurie.’
‘I’m doing this for both of you, but especially for you, Della. You deserve it: you were a loyal wife to Eddie. He didn’t deserve you.’
Laurence caught Harold up as they came through passport control and out into the Arrivals lounge. They didn’t get far before they were escorted by police officers and
driven to Archway Police Station.
Della put the phone back on the bedside table and sat staring at it. What were these drop-in comments people kept making about Eddie? What did Laurence mean, Eddie didn’t
deserve her? Eddie was a good man. They had a wonderful life. They laughed, they loved. They had everything when they were together. That last thought struck her: when they were together. Who was
he the rest of the time? She went back to the safe in the dressing room. She had just a few documents left in there now. They included the detailed drawings of the villa. Della had written
everything else she needed to know from Eddie’s correspondence in her phone, in her notebook, in emails, in code. Della had been busy. She picked up the phone and rang Carter. It went
straight to voicemail.
Willis finished reading the post-mortem results on her way into the interview room.
‘How were things in Marbella?’ she asked.
Harold stared coldly back at her from across the table. His face was blotched from alcohol, tiredness. He shook his head.
‘None of your business. What was it about – picking me up from the airport? We’ve had a difficult few days – I need a rest. I don’t need to be hounded by you lot.
You have no fucking respect.’
‘No swearing, please. We’re not hounding you, Harold. We’re keeping family members up to date with the way the investigation into your brother’s murder is
going.’
Harold switched his attention to Ross. He stared back. He picked up a pen and began writing notes while still maintaining some eye contact with Harold.
‘How about Tony?’ asked Willis. ‘Did he have any ideas who could have done it? You must have discussed it.’
‘Why should he? He’s the same as the rest of us – we don’t know who did it.’
‘We’ve been running through some theories, there’s one that we’re working on – that maybe Eddie was killed in a case of mistaken identity. After all, Tony is not
just hiding from the police in that villa. He’s hiding from the cartel he ripped off, isn’t he?’
Harold was listening hard while pretending to stare out at space. He swallowed. He wiped an irritating trickle of sweat that had begun at his temple and was now beginning its descent, doglegging
its way down.
‘No comment.’
‘The cartels are not people to mess with. I’m surprised you decided to come back here. I thought you’d also be hiding away in Tony’s villa. After all, if they killed
Eddie, they won’t hesitate to kill you.’
‘Eddie’s death had nothing to do with Tony or me.’
‘So why did they torture him?’ She passed over more photos. ‘What did they want to learn from him?’
‘I have no idea.’ Harold’s face was beginning to solidify, turn white.
‘We have just received some test results back on Eddie. He didn’t die when they fired a bullet into his brain.’ Harold looked up expectantly, waiting. ‘He died from
stress on his heart. He suffered a heart attack while he was being tortured, minutes before the gun was fired into his skull. But, we’ve been wondering why someone wanted it to look like
he’d been executed.’ Harold shook his head. He was thinking things through. ‘Any idea? What does that sound like to you, Harold? A botch job? Who would want information that badly
from Eddie? Who, Harold? Who are they?’
‘I will tell you the same as I told you before. I left him at ten-thirty in the morning outside the café. I don’t know where he went and I don’t know what he’d got
himself into.’
‘We don’t believe you. We’re wondering if Tony had something to do with it. And by Tony I mean you and Tony, after all, you’re his deputy, aren’t you? Surely you
know his every move. Or maybe not. We know about the missing Mendez cartel money. You must have known the cartel would come looking for it. What was Eddie’s job? To try and feed the cartel
with a lie? Did Eddie even know about the missing cocaine that wasn’t really missing, was already being cut and sold on the streets? And, what about the money? Did he walk straight into the
trap? Did you let him walk into it, Harold?’
‘No comment. I don’t know what you’re talking about.’
Ross showed him a photo of Marco. ‘Let’s talk about this man.’ He showed him another photo of Harold and Marco together.
‘No comment.’
‘This was taken a week before Eddie was killed. This man is called Marco Zapata. He is the son of one of the cartel families in Colombia, not just any cartel family. You don’t seem
surprised at anything I say. It wasn’t a surprise that the Mendez family probably tortured and executed your brother because you sold him down the river. They were never going to believe your
bullshit about the cocaine never having reached the UK, were they? They were never going to swallow the one about the Amsterdam connection having shafted you. They could see for themselves that
there’s enough pure cocaine on the streets that has their own brand stamped all over it. So then you try telling them that the money went missing. You really think they’re stupid,
Harold?’
‘No comment.’
‘Actually, let me rephrase that: does
Tony
really think you’re that stupid, Harold? Obviously he does, because he’s allowed you to sacrifice your brother for the missing
money. Greed over flesh and blood. Isn’t that right, Harold?’
‘No comment.’
‘Well, you can rest assured, Harold, when you meet the same fate as Eddie, or when Sandra or Laurence does, because surely it must be a matter of time. Then Detective Sergeant Willis here
and I will have the self-satisfaction of knowing we tried to prevent it happening but you didn’t cooperate. You better inform Sandra she’s going to need twenty-four-hour protection when
she steps outside the villa, maybe even inside it, and that will probably still not be enough. If you were prepared to cooperate with us fully, then we would give her that protection. But, so long
as you continue to insist this has nothing to do with the cartels, your brother Tony and a drugs war, then there’s nothing we can do. You’re a sitting target. But this could be your
lucky day, Harold – I’m in a position to offer you a deal.’ Willis looked Ross’s way, Carter was talking in her ear: ‘What the hell? He’s here to make a deal.
He’s supposed to be just an observer in there. What’s going on, Willis?’
‘Okay, thanks for coming, Harold,’ Willis said as she pushed back her chair.
‘Wait a minute, wait a fucking minute,’ Harold said as he stayed where he was. ‘I want to hear what this monkey has to say.’
‘I am in a position to offer you a deal. I work for the National Crime Agency.’
‘I know who you are. I’ve seen you before.’
‘We know that Tony is a ticking time bomb. Now, he’s going to make a move to go way up the ladder in the cocaine dynasty but he’s not going to make it. Tony has overstretched
himself and getting Eddie killed proves it. He’s so keen to aim for the stars he’s forgetting to protect the earth his feet are standing on. Tony will not succeed in this. Marco is not
what he seems, and it will all come tumbling down around the Butcher family’s ears. You help us to set up a trap for Marco and the cartels and we’ll guarantee you a prison sentence of
less than fifteen years. That’s the best we can do – you can be out in seven on good behaviour. Tony will never know it was you. We’ll make sure you’re caught at the same
time.’
Carter was waiting for them in the observation room. Harold had already left.
He stopped Ross in the doorway. ‘What the hell did you just do in there?’
‘I did what I was instructed to do. I had the power to offer Harold a deal.’
‘What happened to working together? What happened to good old-fashioned rules of conduct here?’
‘Nothing. If I had talked to you about it first, you would have had to take it to Chief Inspector Bowie and it would have slowed it down again. Eddie Butcher is dead and you are no nearer
to catching his killer. Plus, we are not getting to Tony fast enough; we’ll lose this opportunity. We believe that this is all about Tony’s new connection with the Zapata family. We
know for a fact that Marco is the black sheep of the family. We think he’s trying to ingratiate himself with his family and he’s doing it on the back of Tony’s megalomania. If we
don’t hurry, Tony is going to get killed by the Mendez family, or by the Zapata or even by Marco. We don’t know how far his ambitions stretch.
‘They must have put their own time limit on the missing money and it’s already passed because they’ve executed Eddie just to show Tony they are coming. Harold knows this is
true. He’s an old man now; he wants his pipe and slippers. He’s not going to see it into next week unless he gets help.’
‘He’s never going to tell us any more than he has already,’ said Carter.
‘Maybe, but Harold knows he’ll be safer inside jail than out of it,’ Ross said. ‘He can buy a lot of protection inside and he can contain it. Out here? He’s a
sitting target. Tony will have ordered Harold to organise the wiping-out of any of the Mendez cartel here. Harold will use the young gangs to do that. It will be a bigger bloodbath on the streets
than we’ve seen. Plus, there will be no going back afterwards. Once vendettas start between these gangs, they escalate. They’ll want a big bit of the new Zapata pie. They have the
chance to be on it right from the start. That’s a hell of an opportunity for these young gangs. But Harold will be thinking that it’s a lot of work for an old man. He doesn’t need
any more than he’s got already. He’s probably thinking, he could downsize easily to a smaller mansion and live the rest of his life playing golf. If I was the Mendez cartel I would have
strengthened numbers over here in the last two months since the money went missing and I would assume that’s why the death squad is setting up its stall here. They’re anticipating a lot
of work.’