Liverpool Loyalty

Chapter Four

Grace looked around Faye Donovan’s beautifully furnished office while she and Michael waited for her to arrive. She’d been delayed at court and was running late, which wasn’t unusual for her. Grace had first met Faye ten years earlier when Michael’s father, Patrick, had found himself in a spot of bother with the police while doing some business for her. Even back then, before she’d married Michael, Patrick had been like a father to her, so she’d looked around for the best solicitor she could find and had stumbled upon Faye.

Faye Donovan was a formidable opponent and a formidable woman. She was only a few years older than Grace, and the two of them had hit it off straightaway. Grace had been impressed by Faye’s commitment and her willingness to do whatever it took to get the job done. Grace supposed they were alike in many ways, and the two women had worked together ever since.

Glancing across at Michael, who was sitting beside her nursing the now lukewarm coffee Faye’s assistant had brought them ten minutes earlier, she wondered just how much longer Faye was going to keep them waiting. Michael looked up at her and was about to speak when the large wooden office door swung open and a breathless Faye walked through it. Grace had always marvelled at how quickly Faye could walk in five-inch heels.

She smiled at the two of them as she brushed her long blonde hair back from her face. ‘I’m so sorry to keep you both waiting,’ she said as she walked past and took a seat opposite them. ‘I just couldn’t get away this morning.’

‘No problem. Beth made us a coffee while we waited,’ Grace answered with a smile.

Michael nodded and downed the last of his, before placing his cup on the desk.

Faye nodded and leaned forward in her chair. The smile slipped from her face and her carefully composed and cool façade took its place, signalling that the pleasantries were over with.

‘Your boys have got themselves into a bit of a mess with his one. I’ve told them they’ll need to be careful from now on and expect every move they make to be under scrutiny. They could well be under surveillance. That new DI, Leigh Moss, is on a crusade. She’s determined to make them go down for this. But that could also be the very thing that tips the scales in our favour.’

‘Oh? How so?’ Grace asked as Michael placed his warm hand over hers and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

‘I think DI Moss may have jumped the gun arresting them when she did. She could have taken the time to build a better case in my opinion, but she obviously thought what she had was enough.’

‘And is it?’ Grace asked.

Faye gave a slight shrug of her shoulders. ‘There’s an eyewitness – apparently. Not enough to charge them with yesterday, but who knows what will happen in the future?’

‘Maybe she didn’t have anything else to build a case with? Maybe this eyewitness is all she’s got?’

‘It was certainly all she had, but now she has the boys’ prints and their DNA…’

Michael nodded. ‘That’s why she pulled them in then.’

‘If they left any prints at the scene…’ Faye started, not needing to finish her sentence.

‘They said they wore gloves,’ Grace replied.

‘Let’s hope so. Limits the chance of any DNA being left behind too.’

‘So who is this eyewitness?’ Grace asked.

Faye shook her head. ‘They haven’t disclosed yet. But I’m working on it.’

‘I have a feeling it’s Scott Johnson,’ Grace said. ‘He lived with Billy. He’s the only one who could have seen anything, and he’s probably the only one green enough to go to the police about it if he did.’

‘From what the boys told me, they’re sure there was no one else around, but you never know,’ Faye added with a raise of her eyebrows.

‘What do you think the chances are that they’ll go down for this?’ Michael asked as he leaned forward in his chair.

Faye looked at him, as though giving serious thought to his question. ‘If you want my honest answer, in a murder trial it could go either way. If this witness is credible, and he really did see something, he could be the key to the whole thing…’

‘But?’ Michael asked, as though he was waiting for her to finish her sentence.

‘But if anyone can discredit a witness, to gain the sympathies of a jury, then it’s Faye,’ Grace replied for her.

Faye gave a faint smile. ‘I’ve certainly beaten worse odds before.’

‘But there’s a chance they’ll go down for life if this ever goes to trial?’ Michael snapped.

Faye nodded. ‘There’s always a chance if it goes to trial. But I’ll do my best to make sure that never happens. I promise.’

‘And so will we,’ Grace said as she looked at her husband.

Michael sat back in his chair, his shoulders slumped as though in defeat. ‘We’ll fix this,’ Grace said to him as she placed a hand on his arm. He looked at her and nodded but Grace saw no conviction in his eyes.

Grace leaned back in her seat as Michael pulled the car away from the kerb and began the drive home from the city centre to their home in Mossley Hill.

‘Are you still going into the office?’ Grace asked.

‘Yeah. I need to sort some stuff out. I won’t be too long though.’

‘No problem. I have to take the kids to that party anyway.’

They drove in silence for a few moments before Michael spoke again. ‘So, what are we going to do about Scott Johnson?’ Michael asked.

Grace closed her eyes. ‘I don’t know yet. We need to be careful. If we approach him, we need to be one hundred per cent certain that he’ll co-operate. Or…’

‘Or we need to make sure that he doesn’t have the chance to co-operate with anyone?’ Michael finished her sentence for her.

‘Exactly,’ Grace replied.

She heard a soft sigh and out of the corner of her eye saw Michael shaking his head.

‘What?’ she asked him. While they might be effectively discussing the elimination of Scott Johnson, it was nothing they hadn’t done before to protect their family.

‘Nothing,’ he replied.

‘Don’t lie to me. What’s going on with you?’

Michael turned to face her as they stopped at the traffic lights on Edge Lane. ‘Our kids might go down for murder, Grace. That’s what’s going on with me,’ he snapped at her.

‘Don’t you think I know that? Isn’t that precisely what we’re talking about here?’

‘I know, Grace. I know,’ he replied, his tone much softer now. ‘I’m just worried about them. I can’t lose another son.’

Grace placed a hand on his arm. ‘You won’t,’ she said, trying to convince herself as much as him.

‘I hope you’re right.’

‘I am.’

‘When this is all over, we need to seriously consider leaving all of this behind us,’ he said as he continued driving, his eyes fixed on the road ahead.

‘We will,’ she replied with little conviction. How could they possibly walk away and leave Jake and Connor in charge?

Chapter Five

Michael Carter sat back in the leather chair of the office he shared with Grace and his brother Sean in their flagship restaurant and bar, Sophia’s Kitchen. It was situated in Liverpool’s Albert Dock and was considered one of the finest eateries and meeting places in the wider Merseyside area. Grace and Sean had always used the restaurant as a base, while Michael had favoured their office at Cartel Securities, the security company that he and Grace owned. More recently Grace had been spending a lot of time setting up their new wine bar in Lytham and Michael had felt the need to distance himself from the security side of their business as much as he could, and so he’d taken to working in the place too. Ever since Paul had been killed eight months earlier, he couldn’t stand to be around all of the lads who’d known his son so well. He realised that some people might have found it comforting, but for him it was a daily reminder that his son was no longer with him.

The office in Sophia’s Kitchen was big enough for him, Grace and Sean to occupy comfortably, although it was very rare the three of them would be in there at the same time, and today Michael was glad he was there alone. Connor and Jake’s arrest had him rattled and he wanted time away from anyone involved in it. Grace was doing her best to convince him that everything would be okay, but he no longer trusted that it would. Since he was avoiding the offices of Cartel Securities, his head bouncer and trusted right-hand man, Jack Murphy, or Murf, as he was commonly known, would often call in to Sophia’s Kitchen to keep Michael apprised of any developments, or just to sit and talk. Today was one such afternoon and Murf popped his head in through the open door.

‘All right, Boss?’ he asked.

‘Yeah, come on in, Murf,’ Michael replied with a wave of his hand.

Murf took a seat opposite, his heavy frame filling the chair. ‘I heard what happened with Connor and Jake,’ he said. ‘Everything okay?’

Michael shook his head and sighed. ‘Fuck knows, Murf. They’ve been released without charge for now. But they’re still under investigation for murder.’

Murf shook his head. ‘Fuck!’ he breathed.

‘Tell me about it.’

Murf leaned forward in his chair. ‘I’m sure Grace will sort everything out though?’ he said with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

‘Well, she thinks so too…’

‘But?’ Murf prompted him.

‘But what if she can’t this time, Murf?’

‘She’s Grace Carter. She will.’

‘If they’re both charged with murder, and there’s enough evidence, then I’m not sure there’s anything Grace can do about it. As good as she is, she’s not a fucking magician.’

Murf frowned at him and Michael sensed his friend’s discomfort at the direction the conversation was going in. They were rescued from any further awkwardness by a knock at the door.

Both men looked up to see Sophia’s Kitchen’s newest waitress and barmaid, Lena, standing in the doorway with a tray in her hand.

‘The drink you ordered, Boss,’ she said as she smiled sweetly and sashayed into the office with a swish of her long, flaming red hair. Michael could see Murf staring at her – unapologetically so. It was something Michael assumed she was used to as she seemed to have that effect on almost every man she came into contact with. She was one of those women that turned heads when she entered a room and she had been a massive hit with the customers – both male and female. He’d noticed that when she spoke to people she had a way of making them feel like they were the only person in the room. Bending over his desk, she placed the large mug of coffee in front of him. ‘Hot and sweet. Just how you like it,’ she said with a laugh and a lick of her lips. Then she spun around and faced Murf, giving her behind a little wiggle in the process. ‘Would you like something nice and hot yourself? Or would you prefer something cold?’ she purred.

‘A Coke would be great,’ Murf stammered as he pulled at the collar of his shirt with his index finger.

‘Coming right up,’ she said before turning to Michael again. ‘Anything else I can get you. Boss? Anything at all?’

‘No. I’m fine, thanks, Lena,’ he replied.

‘Jesus Christ,’ Murf said with a sharp intake of breath after Lena had left. ‘Who the fuck was that?’

‘She’s our new waitress, Lena. Grace hired her a few weeks back. The customers love her.’

‘I can see why,’ Murf said with a laugh.

‘You’re old enough to be her dad, you perv,’ Michael said with a smile.

Murf shook his head. ‘She’s got her eye on you, Boss. How the fuck do you work around her all day and get anything done?’

‘I’m too busy to be perving over the staff, Murf. And besides, have you met my wife?’ he said with a raised eyebrow.

Murf chuckled good-naturedly and turned his attention to their earlier conversation. ‘Speaking of your wife, I’m sure she’ll straighten this whole mess out, Michael. Has she ever let you down before? And this is her son we’re talking about. And Connor. Do you honestly think she’d let them go down for murder?’

Michael stared at Murf. There was a time when he would have wholeheartedly agreed with him. But that was before Paul was murdered. Before everything had changed. ‘We can’t always protect the people we love though, Murf. No matter how much we want to.’

Murf considered him for a few seconds before giving a brief nod. ‘I suppose you’re right,’ he replied with a shrug. ‘But I wouldn’t underestimate Grace.’

‘I never do,’ Michael snapped at him, conscious that the conversation was becoming far too personal. Murf had been a good and loyal friend to him over the years, but he was still an employee. He worked for Grace as much as for Michael, and for that reason Michael felt some guilt for talking about her in such a way. But mostly he was annoyed that Murf had the nerve to suggest that Michael would ever underestimate Grace – as though somehow Murf knew her better than he did.

‘Okay, Boss,’ Murf said, raising his hands in surrender. ‘I was just saying.’

‘What did you come over here to see me about anyway?’ Michael asked.

Murf shuffled in his seat. ‘Nothing in particular. Just wanted to see how things were and catch up, you know? I heard about the lads and just wondered if you were all okay? Or if there is anything I can do?’

Michael looked at Murf and felt a pang of guilt. He knew that the worry over Connor and Jake was clouding his judgement and he was being unfair in taking some of his anger out on Murf. But some days he felt angry at the whole world.

‘Thanks, Murf. I appreciate it, but there’s nothing you can do right now.’

‘No problem, Boss,’ he said as he stood up and straightened his jacket. ‘I’ll leave you to it then.’

Just as he was turning to leave, Lena returned with his drink. ‘Here you go, that should cool you right down,’ she said with a flutter of her eyelashes and a grin at Michael.

‘Thank you,’ Murf replied as he took the proffered drink and watched her disappear out of the doorway again.

Murf took a long swig of the Coke and placed his almost empty glass on Michael’s desk. ‘You’d better watch yourself with that one,’ he said with a grin. ‘She’s dangerous.’

Michael smiled. ‘I think I can handle her.’

‘I’d certainly like to,’ Murf said.

Michael shook his head as Murf walked out of his office.

Lena Munro leaned on the bar and watched as the stocky, bald-headed man she now knew as Murf walked out of the restaurant. He turned and winked at her and she giggled in response. She’d seen the way his eyes had glazed over when she’d walked into Michael’s office earlier. She always had that effect on men. It was laughable really how easily she could get them to do her bidding. A winning smile and a flutter of her eyelashes and she had men like Murf eating out of the palm of her hand. Not that she had any interest in Murf. He wasn’t her type at all. But Michael Carter – now there was a man she’d like on her arm, and in her bed. Big and brooding. And with all that money and power. Lena felt the butterflies in her stomach just thinking about him. So far, he had resisted all of her subtle advances and she feared he was one of those men who just didn’t have a clue when a woman was flirting with him. She would have to ramp up her efforts, because she couldn’t stop thinking about him. He was the hottest man she had ever encountered in her life, and if she didn’t get him into bed soon, she might just implode.

‘Haven’t you got some customers to serve?’ Lena’s colleague and friend Jamie came up behind her and whispered in her ear.

‘I’m going,’ she said with a sigh as she straightened up. ‘Just having a quick daydream.’

‘Not about him again?’ Jamie said with a roll of his eyes.

‘You’re just jealous,’ she replied, giving him a playful shove.

‘Yeah, right,’ Jamie snorted. ‘You honestly think you have a chance with him?’

‘Of course I do,’ she snapped at him. ‘Just you wait and see. Give me a few more weeks and he’ll be begging for me.’

‘Seriously, Lena. You need to be careful,’ Jamie warned her. ‘This is Grace Carter’s husband you’re talking about here.’

Lena shrugged. ‘Isn’t she his third wife? Obviously, he doesn’t like to stay married for long, does he? I’m sure it won’t be the first time he’s cheated, but it will be the last,’ she said with a wink.

‘Oh, you think you might be the next Mrs Carter, do you?’ Jamie said with a shake of his head. ‘You’re deluded, babe.’

‘We’ll see, Jamie. We’ll see,’ she said as she picked up her notepad and made her way over the group of men in suits who’d just been seated in her section. She winked at Carlos, the maitre d’, as she passed him. He always gave her the best customers.

Chapter Six

Grace sat at one of the tables outside All Bar One in Victoria Square and sipped her lime and soda. She’d chosen the perfect spot with an unhindered view of the entrance and exit of Liverpool Crown Court. It was a sunny day and she pondered how little time she had these days to sit and relax. Her life felt like a constant whirlwind where she lurched from one crisis to another. Everyone was always looking to her to solve their problems. But wasn’t that exactly how she liked it? That was what Michael would say anyway. He thought that she craved the adrenaline, that she thrived on it, but Grace wasn’t sure if she did or not. She sometimes thought about the brief time she’d spent in the little village of Harewood near Leeds. She’d moved there just after her ex-husband Nathan was killed, and just before she’d found out she was pregnant with Belle. She had spent a blissful eighteen months there before she’d had to return to Liverpool – to her old life. And while she didn’t regret her decision for a moment, she did sometimes miss those quiet, carefree days.

Michael was keen to move away from the city now, although not too far away, and she would like that too, but it wasn’t so easy just to up and walk away. They both had responsibilities. Grace didn’t always enjoy being the one who made the decisions, but the truth was she was good at it. The few times she had left other people to take up the reins, it had ended in disaster.

A flash of a bright red coat caught Grace’s eye and she recognised DI Leigh Moss leaving the court. Grace stood up and walked towards her. Just like Grace, Leigh was a difficult woman to get time alone with. But Grace had plenty of contacts within the court who had alerted her to Leigh’s presence there today.

Leigh saw Grace approaching and frowned. Grace reached her and fell into step beside her and they walked through the crowded square towards James Street.

‘What do you want, Grace?’ Leigh asked.

‘I want to know what the hell you’re playing at arresting my son and Connor,’ Grace replied.

Leigh gave a brief shake of her head. ‘My job!’

‘Your job? But he’s my son, Leigh.’

‘What difference does that make?’

‘Are you kidding me?’ Grace snapped. ‘It makes every difference.’ She grabbed hold of Leigh’s arm and the two women turned to face each other.