A car pulled up alongside him, the same BMW 7 Series that he had been in once before. Ralph reacted with alarm and attempted to move away and back to the safety of his flat. As he approached the main door to the building, an arm blocked his way. ‘Mr Frost wants to see you,’ its owner said.
Ralph looked around and then up at where the voice had come from. It was one of Frost’s heavies. ‘I have an arrangement with Mr Frost. My time’s not up.’
‘Mr Frost, he wants to have a little chat, remind you of the seriousness of the situation. That’s what he told me, anyway.’
‘Tomorrow.’
‘Today. He said you needed reminding.’
Ralph could only remember the first blow that hit him in his stomach outside his block of flats. After that, a blur as he was manhandled into the back of the BMW, his head pressed firmly down into the footwell.
‘Ralph, you hung up on me,’ Frost said when Ralph regained consciousness.
Ralph realised that he could not move. He struggled, felt ropes binding his arms that were stretched skywards. He could see the beam above him. He felt the wetness in the crotch of his trousers.
‘What is this? What have I done?’
‘You’ve forgotten our agreement, haven’t you? I’ve been told that you and your ex-wife are getting cosy.’
‘You’ve been spying on me,’ Ralph said. He was feeling distinctly uncomfortable, his feet barely touching the ground, his right leg cramping up, the rope biting into his wrists.
‘Protecting my investment, that’s all.’
Ralph wanted to tell the man he was a liar, but he knew that his situation was precarious. He was strung up as if he were a side of beef in a butcher’s shop, or maybe freshly slaughtered and in an abattoir. He was confused, not sure what to do, not sure if he would leave the warehouse alive, or if he did, if he would be able to walk again.
‘You’ve soiled yourself,’ Frost said. ‘We’re only here for a little chat, nothing more.’
‘But I’m hanging here. Let me down, please.’
‘If you insist, but my men will stay nearby. If our conversation is not to my satisfaction, you know what will happen.’
‘I do.’ With that the rope that had been holding the frightened man was loosened, and Ralph collapsed onto the ground. Picking himself up, he sat down on a wooden chair that was to one side of him, the wetness in his trousers causing him discomfort and acute embarrassment.
‘Now when will I see my money?’
‘Next week, as I told you.’
‘Your time is running out. And remember, the interest accumulates. Your wife is an attractive woman, so I’ve been told. It’d be a shame if she had an accident, wouldn’t it?’
‘Leave her alone. Your issue is with me.’
‘That’s where you’re wrong, Ralph. Before, it was with you, but now you have a sister, a son, a lover. Any of them will do if you fail to pay me back. Today would be better, tomorrow at the latest. If you want another week, that’s fine, just add another eighty thousand pounds to your pay-out.’
‘I can’t.’
‘Can’t or won’t?’
‘I can’t get that sort of money. My sister won’t help.’
‘Then maybe we should talk to her first. I’m sure she will want to see you safe. Or what about her husband? He’s got himself a good business, lots of rich clients. How many children does she have? Two, isn’t it?’
‘You bastard. You would do anything to anybody for your benefit.’
‘You would cheat poor gullible tourists out of their retirement funds. We are very much alike, you and me, Ralph. Neither of us has too many morals. The only difference is that I use violence as a tool.’
‘And what if I don’t pay?’
‘You know what will happen. I’m giving you another week, interest-free.’
‘Why?’
‘Because I like you, or maybe you’ll need that week to recover, let the others see what will happen. Maybe your wife can convince the old man in Antigua to help. Your sister, what will she do? Help you out?’
‘Give me a week, and you’ll have your money,’ Ralph said, his body shaking from cold and fear. A rat scurried by. Over to one side, lying on the floor, his jacket and shirt.
‘Boys, you know what to do,’ Frost said.
The first that anybody else knew was when Homicide received a phone call from the hospital.
‘It’s Ralph Lawrence,’ Bridget Halloran said as she walked into Isaac’s office. ‘He’s in casualty. He’s been severely beaten.’
Chapter 20
Jill Dundas smiled when she heard about Ralph Lawrence and his accident, falling off a roof and onto a concrete floor. At least that was what Ralph had said it was, his own silly damn fault for not looking where he was going.
The team at Homicide were under no illusion, even if the man in the hospital bed said otherwise. He had received a severe beating. Sure, as the doctor had said, he had a dislocated shoulder, but there was no way that the bruising on his body had been caused by anything other than a man’s fists.
‘It’s the truth,’ Ralph said, his son on one side of his bed, his sister on the other, a nurse hovering nearby checking his temperature, ensuring that he was comfortable.
‘Why lie to us, Mr Lawrence?’ Isaac said, even though he understood why. It wasn’t the first time that a man had lain in a hospital bed, too frightened to tell the truth.
‘Why protect those who did this to you? You could have been killed.’
‘I wasn’t, that’s all. I’ve no more to say. Can’t you accept that?’
‘Leave my father alone,’ Michael said. ‘Can’t you see he’s in agony?’
‘You’re
