Chapter 16

Everything changes; nothing stays the same. Tom rang Mike at work on Monday morning.

Where he got his information from, Mike didn't know and never found out; he put it down to Tom's women friends of whom there were many. That was another puzzle; Tom never committed to any of them but they seemed to forgive him that quite easily.

Tom said he knew where Bob would be at eleven thirty, or rather he knew from where Bob would be coming at about that time. He opined that even if Bob had been warned by Steven, their interception there would come as a surprise.

Mike was beginning to worry about his repeated absences from work. Rosemary pooh-poohed his concerns, saying that she was coping, and from what he saw when he caught up with things at the works, she was more than coping, she was running things easily and with vision. She definitely needed a rise.

Tom picked him up and drove him there. 'There' was the house of one of Bob's regular married women. They saw his car, parked a distance away from the house, and positioned themselves to intercept him before he reached it. Tom got in the back of the car.

The gigolo exited the premises looking flushed; Mike thought Bob must be getting a little old for all that sexual activity. Bob certainly looked tired and he wasn't paying much attention to his surroundings. Mike threw his door wide and Bob actually bumped into it. Tom was behind him as Mike greeted him.

"Hello Bob," Mike said with a grim smile. "We have to talk. You've been a naughty boy."

His first response was to run but as he started in surprise, Tom jabbed a finger in his back.

"I advise you to keep very still," Tom growled. Bob froze. An old trick; Tom was surprised it worked.

"Get in the car," Mike ordered, and Bob did so, sliding into the backseat. Tom followed.

"Now Bob," Mike said. "You're likely to be in trouble with the police soon but you're in bigger shit with me."

"What?" he said looking extremely nervous.

"We know everything," said Tom. "Everything. You and your minion were very, very careless. Fingerprints, Bob, fingerprints. Yours are all over the photos, and your man's are on the baseball bat." It was a lie, but Bob wouldn't know that. He clearly didn't.

"So, Bob," Mike continued, "you can confess everything to us, and tell us why you did it, or all kinds of shit is going to fall on you. The Police don't know whose fingerprints were on the photos yet, but they will be calling on you. Unless..."

Bob started. "How d'you know they're mine?"

"Steven talked. Explain why you're trying to destroy my marriage and even kill me. I did nothing to you. I was with Claire long before you came on the scene."

"It's not me," he said.

"That's a load of shite!" Mike barked. "Your fingerprints!"

"No," Bob said hastily, "not me, Gary."

"He's doing time," said Tom. "Try another lie."

Bob became animated. "No listen, Gary got to hear that I'd been seeing Claire. He's got friends outside. I got a call. Gary's got a mobile inside. He told me his friends would 'see to me' unless I broke you up. Then I got a visit from a couple of really big blokes. They told me I had a month to sort you out. It was you or me."

"You know Gary?" Mike asked him. "How?"

"I was doing a couple of small jobs for Gary's boss. Gary was there, you know he was his boss's PA? We chatted about the job. Used to go for the odd drink. That's when I saw his lady – I mean your lady, Claire."

"I don't suppose we should ask about the 'work' you were doing," Tom said wryly. Bob did not answer.

"The two who came to warn me," Bob said, ignoring his implication. "They work for the same bloke."

"Who is?" Tom and Mike chorused.

Bob was silent, no doubt wondering if telling them would be painful for him in the future. They waited, and in time he realised that he had to tell them.

"Stockton Import/Export. The owner is Josiah Stockton, you know him?"

"Of him," Mike said, making a mental note to see if Stewart Research and Development had used the company. He knew nothing about the firm or about the man.

"OK," said Tom. "That brings us to the second matter. The attempted murder."

"What?" Bob looked genuinely puzzled. "Murder?"

"Come on, Bob," Tom said testily. "Your attempt to break up his marriage failed so you went to plan B. Who did you pay to attack Mike?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," said Bob, looking desperate. "I told Gary the photos didn't work and he told me to tell the two apes that when they visited me next. So I did. Come on Mike, I may be a pussy hound but I'm no murderer!"

Tom looked at Mike, and Mike looked at Tom. He nodded and Mike did the same.

"OK," Mike said. "But if we find–"

"You won't," he assured them. "I wouldn't do that. In any case I got punished enough for failing to break you up and for trying it on with Gary's, er, your wife."

They waited.

"Those apes know how to hurt you without leaving any marks," he said, wincing at the memory. "At least not many. I still ache weeks later."

Tom got out and Bob scuttled off to his car and drove away.

"You know what this means," said Tom, glancing at Mike. "You're not out of the wood yet. Whoever is doing Gary's work could try again."

Mike called the policewoman assigned to his case and told her all that Bob had told him. She thanked him and told him she would keep Mike as informed as she was allowed by law.

Then nothing. Mike was expecting an angry Bob accusing him of 'shopping' him to the police, but heard nothing. After a fortnight, Mike phoned the policewoman again.

"I have problems telling you everything we know, because of legal constraints," she told him. "I can tell you we did interview him and his fingerprints were on the photos. There's nothing to link him to the attack on you, and since he's committed no crime, we couldn't hold him."

"But he fingered these two Neanderthals who punished him. The connection seemed pretty clear to us."

"All I can say is that when we interviewed him he said he knew nothing about two heavies, or about Gary Sonter. Even if he's lying, there's no evidence linking them, so there's nothing we can do. I'm sorry. We can't call in every big man working for Stockton's; we've no evidence to go on, and we're sure they'll simply deny everything. Sorry.

"Oh," she said as an afterthought, "Sonter no longer has a mobile – at least for a while. No doubt he'll come by another one eventually." She laughed.

As far as Mike could see, Tom and he had reached a dead end. If there was no link between Bob and the assassin they were sunk. They were now sure that Gary was behind this and that he was using his connections to attack Mike from behind bars. It was unnerving that Gary could reach Mike and therefore possibly Claire and the children from prison. How long would they be looking over their shoulders waiting for the next attack to come?

There was no proof but the danger was real. Mike went home and told Claire what had transpired. She looked apprehensive.

"Gary would never tell me what job he was in," she said, "but I think it was import/export. I met his boss once. Short little fellow and very nice to talk to but I felt nervous around him. Flirted a bit with me I remember. It was at a Christmas party. There were some strange people there."

"Strange? How?"

She responded thoughtfully. "They were all supposed to be business people, office folk, you know? But I don't know, I think it was how some of them were dressed. Everyone wore suits but some of them looked uncomfortable; their suits didn't quite fit, you know what I mean."

"Any of them look like wrestlers?" he asked.

"Yes," her eyes lit up. "There were a few really big men with shaved heads and ill-fitting suits."

"Well, it seems that there is a link between Bob and Gary, and this involves two blokes who work for our Mr Josiah Stockton. Bob said the heavies worked him over when he failed to break us up. They were acting on Gary's orders."

"You aren't going to–"

"See Mr Stockton? I think I might have to."

"But–"

"We can't go on indefinitely looking over our shoulders, waiting for the next attack to come. The next one could be fatal."

"I don't like it, Mike, I think Stockton is dangerous. You may do more harm than good."

"I'll do some research on him and his company first, don't worry. I'm not rushing there."

At this she became agitated. "Don't, please. I don't like it. I don't think Gary's business was completely kosher. Go to the police, don't do this on your own."

"The police can't do anything because there's not enough evidence even to interview them or Stockton himself. Claire, we need to get to the bottom of this, otherwise we'll be on edge for the rest of our lives."

She shrugged and looked resigned and there they left it.

Mike got Rosemary to research Stockton Import/Export and she found it seemed to be a well run company which Mike's company had used from time to time. He asked around other owners or managers of other companies, and while all said the import/export work Stockton did was clean and efficient, there were suspicions that Josiah had other interests on the fringe of legality, where he made the big money.

Mike knew all the more keenly that he needed to tread carefully. He spent a long time working out his approach to the man.

Once again Tom was a star. He called in a favour from a friend who did investigations for insurance companies. He reported that Mr Josiah Stockton was a loving family man who doted on his wife and children.

Mike realised that some of the worst, most ruthless and most violent gang leaders were 'loving family men'. Gary's treatment of Claire would be unacceptable to the man. That would be his way in.

In the end he assembled his material and phoned Stockton's. He identified himself and asked to see Josiah. To his surprise he was able to make an appointment and the next day he arrived at their offices. Against everything they had agreed, he did not tell Claire where he was going.

From what he had heard he expected a dingy office over a grubby warehouse, but the building was smart and modern. Stockton's offices were on the second floor and after signing in, Mike made his way up the stairs.

On entering and announcing himself, he was immediately shown into the office of Josiah Stockton. It was clean and sparse. Josiah came round his desk and extended a hand, and after introductions gestured to armchairs round a coffee table.

The man was as Claire had described him. He came up to Mike's shoulder. He was very well dressed and his suit was clearly expensive. He was balding and there were streaks of grey among the dark brown, but he had made no attempt to cover either sign of ageing. He had a ready smile, but Mike thought his eyes were cold.

"Now, Mr Stewart," he began, "I don't mince my words. It appears that my Personal Assistant is in prison because of you. When you made your appointment, I thought it would a good opportunity to find out what sort of a man steals a happily married man's wife, breaks up a loving family and drives him to the madness of trying to kill her? Gary being put away has messed up things here badly for me."

"Well, Mr Stockton," Mike said, putting his briefcase on the coffee table and opening it. "I need to clear up some misapprehensions you have. Best done by telling you the history of what's happened. A year last Christmas, on Christmas Eve, I was walking through the town along the back street that runs parallel to the High Street. I remember it clearly. It was afternoon and it was pouring with rain."

"I fail to see what this has to do with anything," Stockton interrupted.

"Please bear with me. This is the best way to clear things up."

He shrugged and sat back, a sure sign he was ready to reject Mike's story.

"I was accosted by Claire's fourteen year old daughter. She was facially bruised and frightened. I asked about her family and she led me to a covered area where the bins were at the back of Boots the Chemist. Claire was there sitting on a large suitcase with Ryan in her arms and Virginia by her side. They were wet through. Claire had been beaten up.

Mike delved into his case. "Here. These are photos of her injuries."

He passed the photos of Claire. Stockton looked at them and his face became grim.

"Gary's work?" he asked but did not need an answer. "So?"

"Shania had bruises as well, here." He passed the second set to Stockton. "Shania said Gary had been beating Claire for years. That particular day was worse than usual and Shania was kicked and punched for trying to intervene.

"I couldn't leave them there, freezing cold and wet on Christmas Eve. So I took them home. I've a large house, and it allows for individual privacy."

"Gary said you were having an affair," Stockton said.

"She said Sonter kept her short of money, and didn't let her out of the house unless it was with him. He'd got her pregnant when she was in Sixth Form and she never completed her education. So I gave her a job as my housekeeper."

"With benefits?" his lip curled in a sneer.

"Without benefits," snapped Mike. "She was an emotional wreck. I kept well clear of her in emotional terms. I put her through College for her exams and paid for her driving lessons and test. She was free to leave at any time. She didn't.

"The kids started calling me Dad, and Claire didn't stop them."

"But you married her," he said. "So you must have got together as more than employer and employee before then."

"It was after the Decree Nisi," Mike replied. "The children hinted she loved me, and I knew I loved her, but never wanted to cross the line with her. They sort of pushed us together. We had one date and a few weeks later Gary attacked Claire and then went looking for Shania."

"Heard about that on the news," Stockton said and for the first time he smiled. "You were quite the hero, I remember. I wouldn't have taken Gary on if he had a knife."

Mike delved again, and produced some stills from the CCTV footage.

"He cut Claire and stabbed her. He even cut her face to make her ugly. It was touch and go whether she lived."

Josiah Stockton, looked at the photos and his face reddened in anger but his voice remained calm. "I wouldn't have thought that of him, but he obviously lost it when the divorce went through."

There was a brief silence.

Then Stockton spoke again. "Well. Mr Stewart, you've certainly given me a new picture of my assistant. I would never have thought he was like that. But you didn't come here to tell me your life story; what can I do for you?"

"I don't really know, to be truthful," said Mike. "Since we married, there have been two attempts to separate us. The first one was with faked photographs of me with another woman. That failed, and shortly afterwards I was attacked outside my office. The assailant knocked me out and was about to use a knife on me when my secretary arrived for work and he ran off. He was a biker, wore a full face helmet."