Souls At Zero (A Dark Psychological Thriller) (28 page)

Edger forced a smile as Donna helped him off with his jacket. "You can afford new ones," he said. "With all the money I make for you."

Rankin chuckled. "Bernie," he called to his sister, who was still looking Kaitlin over. "We have a bullet wound when you get a chance."

"A bullet wound?" Bernadette said. "Jesus, John. You didn't tell me things were going to be this bad."

"Nobody told me either," Edger said.

Bernadette Rankin didn't look like she appreciated Edger's humour. In fact, she seemed put out by the whole situation. Edger guessed she wasn't used to doing off the books treatment like this. "This little girl needs a hospital right away. Besides a severed finger, she also has a puncture wound in her hand, a sprained ankle and possible concussion. Not to mention the shock she's in. What happened to her anyway?"

"I told you, Bernie," Rankin said. "The less you know the better."

The nurse shook her head. She had the same stern features as her brother, her nearly black eyes seeming to drink you in. It was hard to tell what she looked like under the loose fitting nurses uniform, but Edger guessed her curves were as sharp as her tongue. "Give me a minute," she said, and went back to shining a light into Kaitlin's eyes.

Gemma approached Edger, her delicate face paler than usual, but the extreme distress that was there before was now gone, replaced by deep concern for her daughter. And maybe for Edger as well. He couldn't tell exactly. "Thank you," she said. "For bringing her home."

Edger waited on her saying, "Even though it was your fault she was gone in the first place," but she never did. He supposed he should be thankful she didn't hate him for everything that happened, though there was still time. He nodded at her, but said nothing. She nodded back and walked over to the sofa again where Kaitlin lay.

"Take your top off," Rankin said to him.

"What, no dinner and a movie first?" Edger said.

"Funny. Just take your fucking top off so we can see what kind of mess you're in."

Edger had trouble lifting his arm up, so Donna had to help him take his blood soaked top off. The hole in his shoulder was about the size of a penny, and blood was pumping from it at regular intervals. Donna covered her mouth like she was going to be sick. "What's the matter?" Edger asked her. "You never seen a bullet wound before?"

Donna shook her head. "No."

"Be thankful you're only looking at it. It's a lot worse when you actually have it."

"What did this?" Rankin said as he examined the wound. "It wasn't a 9mm."

"7.62," Edger said.

"Christ. They weren't packing light, were they?"

"No. The bullet went straight through. Just soft tissue damage, I think. Hurts like fuck, though."

"I'm sure it does," Rankin said. "Bernie? You want to look at this?"

Rankin's sister came over and took a look at the bullet hole in Edger's shoulder, front and back. "What the hell were you doing to get this?" she asked, putting on a pair of white surgical gloves and beginning to wipe away some of the blood with an antiseptic pad.

"I'm sure John will explain it all later," Edger said, his eyes on her face as she cleaned around the wound. She smelled good. Like sunflowers. She was also even more attractive up close, her skin clear and dark. She obviously looked after herself well.

"I'm not even sure I want to know," she said, glancing briefly into his eyes. "You need to get this seen to by a surgeon. I can't tell what kind of damage the bullet did on the way through."

"No hospital," Edger said.

She gave him a stern look. "You might have nerve damage. Worst case, you lose all function in your arm. Is that what you want?"

"Just stitch it up for me. I promise I'll get it checked out properly at some stage."

"At some stage? This isn't a scratch you know."

"I'm aware of that. But I can't go to any hospital. Not yet."

"Fine," Bernie said. "Let me get my kit. I've no anaesthetic. It'll hurt."

"I'll try not to cry."

She shook her head, looked at her brother. "Bloody soldiers. Always trying to be heroes."

Rankin rolled his eyes and smiled at Edger.

"She definitely has your way with people, John" Edger said.

"I heard that," Bernie called over her shoulder, as she retrieved a black medical bag from Donna's desk. Gemma was sitting on the sofa, stroking Kaitlin's head as the twelve year old lay staring up to the ceiling. Kaitlin hadn't said a word since she came into the office. Edger could see the worry on Gemma's face. Aside from the obvious physical and mental trauma Kaitlin had, Edger also guessed Gemma was worrying about what to say when they took Kaitlin to the hospital. As little as possible would be his advice. No doubt Detective Black would be on the scene when he got wind of Kaitlin's return.

Edger wasn't worried about Black, however. He had more important things to worry about, like the safety of Gemma and his daughter, and also what he was going to do with his brother's body, which was still in the boot of Gemma's car. There was enough evidence in that boot to get Edger put away for life. He would have do to something about it. And soon.

It took Bernie Rankin about twenty minutes to stitch up the hole in Edger's shoulder. He couldn't help watching her face as she worked, admiring the confidence shining in her dark eyes. It helped to take his mind of the pain. When she was done, she taped a surgical pad over the stitches on both sides and handed him a few extra ones. "Change the pads every few hours," she said. "Better still, get to a hospital."

"I'll think about it," he said, struggling to put his blood soaked top back on again.

"I'm sure you will," she retorted, throwing him a look. "I have to get back to work now."

"Thank you, Bernie," Edger said. "I appreciate what you did you here. I won't forget it."

Bernie's eyes softened for a moment, and she even managed a half smile. "I'll see you around…Harry."

When Bernie left, Edger asked Rankin to join him outside in the stairwell. After lighting a cigarette, Edger said, "I need a favour, John."

Rankin looked at him as if to say,
Another one?

"I know, I'm probably tapped out of favours by now, but it's more for Gemma and Kaitlin."

"What is it?" Rankin asked.

"I need you to put a team on them for a few days, just until I get things sorted out."

Rankin frowned. "What's going on, Harry? Are you saying this isn't over?"

Edger shook his head and took a drag of his cigarette. "Whoever Declan was involved with, they're still out there. They shot Declan right in front of me, for Christ's sake. Then they tried to kill me and Kaitlin."

"Fucks sake, Harry. This sounds bad."

"And there's something else." Edger reached inside his jacket and took out the photographs he had gathered at the farmhouse, handed them to Rankin. "Take a look. Tell me if you recognise any of them."

Frowning at Edger, Rankin took the crumpled photographs and began to look through them. Shock registered on his face. "Jesus Christ."

"Exactly," Edger said. "All clients of yours. Except for the oldest looking man. I don't know who he is."

Rankin looked at the photograph. Shook his head. "No idea who he is." He handed the photographs back to Edger. "Are you saying all these men are like McGinty? Involved in some kind of child abuse ring?"

Edger stuffed the photos back inside his jacket. "I don't know, John. You tell me. They're your clients."

"I just provide them with security when they need it, Harry. I know fuck all about their private lives. It isn't my business. You know how this works."

"Then maybe you should make it your business, John. Do you really want to be protecting men like that if they get their kicks from abusing children?"

Rankin shook his head, looked away. "No," he said quietly.

An awkward silence developed between them for a minute, which Edger finally broke. "If the men in those photos are behind whatever happened to my brother, they'll pay for what they did."

"You're going to take these people out? Is that what you're saying?"

Edger shook his head, dropped the butt of his cigarette on the floor and ground it out with his boot. "I'll do whatever it takes to stop them coming after me and my family."

"Christ, Harry," Rankin said, leaning back against the railing and folding his arms across his chest. "You'll end up getting killed. You've no idea who you're going up against. If these people are powerful enough to get you released from police custody, just so they can hunt you down and kill you, what the hell else are they capable of?"

"Declan told me some things. Bad things. These people, whoever they are, are fucking
evil
, John. They took Declan all those years ago, turned him into some kind of programmed assassin from what I could make out."

"What? What do you mean programmed? You mean like
brainwashed
?"

Edger nodded. "They tortured him. Took his fucking
soul
from him." Edger thought of the deadness in his brother's eyes and shook his head. "And they're still doing it apparently. They have to be stopped, John."

"And you're going do it alone?"

"I'm not involving anyone else in this. You especially. You've done enough already. You might be on their radar as well for all we know."

"Don't worry about me," Rankin said.

"I still need protection on Gemma and Kaitlin. Can you arrange that? I was thinking Nigel and a few of the other guys you normally use."

"Sure. Consider it done."

"I need them all armed as well. These guys don't mess around. They're out to kill."

Rankin nodded. "I understand."

"Whatever it costs, I'll work it off when all this is over."

"If you're still alive that is."

Edger said nothing as they headed back to the office.

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

DI Black was driving down the busy Falls Road towards the Royal Victoria Hospital. Twenty minutes before he had been interviewing witnesses in a robbery case on the Upper Lisburn Road, when a colleague had phoned him, saying the station got a call from the hospital to inform them about a twelve year old girl who looked to have been seriously assaulted. The girl's name was McGuire. Black's colleague heard the name and informed Black straight away, just in case it was Harry Edger's daughter. There was no doubt it was, as far as Black was concerned. He knew it was Edger's daughter, and he wanted to speak to her, despite his superiors at the station telling him to stay away from the whole case, that it was being handled. So they said anyway. Black didn't care anymore if it was or not. The case had gotten a hold of him, and he wanted to find out was going on. If he could make arrests in the process, all the better, but his main concern was satisfying his curiosity. Needless to say, DS McKee was pissed at him for abandoning her in the middle of an investigation. She threatened to report his behaviour to the Chief Inspector, but Black didn't care. He was on the verge of quitting the job altogether anyway. Twenty-five years of being a cop was starting to get to him. The job had cost him his marriage and his relationship with his older daughter. Not to mention his health problems. His drinking was out of control these days, and he was so stressed all the time, he was incapable of relaxing anymore. Way he saw it, the job would probably fucking kill him before the cancer did.

As he pulled off the Falls Road and took the road into the Royal Hospital, he wondered what it was about Edger and his situation that got under his skin so much. Was it the fact that Edger refused Black's help, and instead chose to go around like some Charles Bronson type, doing whatever he wanted and getting away with it? Or was it the fact that he actually sympathised with the man over the predicament he was in? Maybe he did, a little. Mostly, Black was just curious. He was curious to know how Edger's brother could return from the dead after so many years, only to kidnap his own brother's daughter. He was also curious as to why all the charges against Edger were dropped when he tried to kill the Lord Mayor. And speaking of which, why the hell did he want to kill the Lord Mayor in the first place? Did his brother put him up to it? If so, why?

So many questions and so few answers. Black was hoping, as he tried to find a space in the hospital car park, that a chat with Edger's daughter might throw up some answers. Who knows? Maybe Edger would open up now that he had gotten his daughter back.

When he finally found a parking space, Black parked the red Audi and headed to the main entrance of the hospital. A grim look came over his face as he neared the doors. Ever since his younger daughter had nearly died from Meningitis when she was five years old, Black had come to hate hospitals. He spent endless nights in the very hospital he was about to walk into, praying to a god that he hardly believed in to not let his daughter die, so that he wouldn't have to go through the grief of losing a child. Luckily, she had pulled through, and after that, Black vowed never to set foot in a hospital again. Which was stupid, because being a cop, he had to go to hospitals all the time. It was unavoidable.