Bye Bye Mr Finch

This story takes place after the conclusion of Book Two -- Raven -- in the Michelle series and follows on from 'Mr Finch' and 'Bang, Bang, Mr Finch'

Act I

Judy helped Amanda pick out the coloured crayons and murmured encouragement as the child set about filling in the sky with yellows and pinks.

"Isn't it meant to be blue?" queried Michelle glancing over Judy's shoulder.

"It's called imagination." Judy's voice was clipped. The extent of her duties was to tend to Amanda. It didn't extend to a conversation with her mother.

Michelle grunted and glanced at the clock on the portacabin wall. "Late," she commented to no one in particular.

"Mummy!" announced Amanda holding up the drawing. The foreground dominated by a large stick figure with long black hair.

"So it is!" exclaimed Judy. "And a very good likeness."

With no room in the body for a heart.

Michelle took the drawing and regarded it gravely. "Thank you, Amanda. Mummy will put this on the wall for the workmen to see."

Striding to the notice board, Michelle pinned up the drawing and smiled at Amanda, who was beaming with delight. The sound of a car intruding on the family moment.

"Keep Amanda inside." Without waiting for Judy's caustic response, Michelle pushed open the door and descended the small metal stairs to the muddy ground. "You're late," were her first words.

DCI Evans looked at her sourly. "Something cropped up. And we don't message so--" he shrugged. He was a stout man in his forties, thinning light brown hair and sharp features.

"Whatever. Walk with me. Stick to the path. Hate to see those shiny shoes get messy." Michelle strode down the path amidst the half-built houses with skeleton scaffolding.

"Big project," Evans commented. His sharp eyes took in the scale of the development as they crested the small ridge that overlooked the bulk of the buildings in the valley.

"Yeah. Three hundred units to start, then a further two hundred plus commercial areas. Over the river, there will be more upmarket homes."

"Is that where--fuck!" Evans dragged his shoe out of the mud. "Fucking, fuck!"

"Told you to be careful. You want in?"

"Huh? Sure, what did you have in mind?"

"Two units, semi's. 10 points off the build price. You can rent them out or sell. I can hide the transaction."

Evans forgot about his wet shoe, his mind calculating the markup. "You want the cash upfront? That would be a stretch."

"I can spot you the buy-in. Pay me back when you cash in. 5 points on the loan. Talk to Patti, and she will set it in motion."

"Deal." Evans figured he would sell one unit and then rent out the other. "Appreciated, Raven. You need anything, let me know."

"That is kind of why I wanted to see you."

"I guessed. What you after?"

"Finch."

"What about Finch?"

"I want you to tap Finch. Need him out of the way for 24 hours or so."

"Finch?" Evans face narrowed into a frown.

"Yeah, Finch."

"We don't arrest your guys, Raven," replied Evans reasonably.

"Time you made an exception then."

"But it's Finch. And on what grounds?"

"You're the fucking detective, so fucking detect something. Finch is a career criminal, it shouldn't be too hard." Michelle kept her irritation in check.

"I know, but eyebrows will be raised, attention drawn. Attention we don't need."

"It will surprise people," especially Finch. "A chance to show you're not in my pocket. Personally, I think it will reinforce your credibility with the top floor. Just pull him in on suspicion of something--that pill house on the Park estate you raided last week. Say you found something that links Finch to it."

Annoyed at the 'in my pocket' remark, largely because it was true, Evans said: "Okay, but you tipped us off, it was competition. Everyone knows you tipped us, so trying to link Finch--"

"Look, I don't fucking care what you pull him in for, just pull him in. The amount of cash we're putting in your fucking pocket means this isn't a debate, okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, okay." Evans held up his hands to mollify her. "When do you want it done?"

"You have until the end of the week."

Evans scraped his shoe on a rock and nodded his agreement.

Act II

Linda froze as she held the blouse up to herself in the mirror. It wasn't that the blouse currently on sale at

Goodwin's

was especially arresting, it was the young blonde woman who had passed behind her that caused Linda to stare.

Pushing the blouse back onto the rack, Linda picked up her bag and hurried after the woman. Where had she gone? There! Lingerie and underwear.

Linda moved to the other side of the rack, pretending to check out the bras while surreptitiously examining her target. Early twenties, pretty but not stunning, grey-green eyes, slim, fair hair in a ponytail. T-shirt and faded jeans.

The young woman picked up a bra, black with a pink floral pattern and small cups. She felt the quality, then put it back. The likeness was uncanny. It could have been her daughter. A younger version, more freckles perhaps, the nose a bit more snub, but these were minor details. She could have been a twin for Michelle.

"What do you reckon to this?" the young woman caught Linda's eye.

Linda stared at the pink and lace bra, her brain running on slow.

"Not really me," the young woman continued. She had a distinct accent that Linda couldn't immediately place.

"This store is more geared to older women, mums." Linda finally found her voice.

"Yeah, I kind of got that. Is there a mall or anything around here?"

"Out of town. There is a shuttle bus service. You're not local then?"

"Belfast. My accent, huh? Always a giveaway."

"Long way from home."

"Been living in Manchester for a couple of years, thought I would try down south, London."

"Now, you are in Titchester," smiled Linda.

"Yes. Work. IT."

"Oh," Linda paused awkwardly. "I'm Linda."

"Emily. Nice to meet you. People down South aren't usually this friendly." Emily's gaze was questioning.

"Shame on them, then!" laughed Linda.

"True!"

"Do you fancy grabbing a coffee? Afterwards, I can show you where the shuttle is."

"Sure. And you can fill me in on what it's like around here."

"Happy too. Or I can give you a lift to the mall if you prefer. Wouldn't mind doing a bit more shopping myself."

Emily's smile lit up her face. Her likeness to Michelle, a younger Michelle, was even more pronounced.

"That's very kind of you. If we get on over coffee, I may even take you up on the lift!"

****

Linda had no idea if it was an Irish thing, but Emily liked to talk. Non-stop. Her travel experiences, life in Belfast, boys, men, clothes, the latest memes on social media, celebrity gossip. Linda's head tried to process the stream of information as they drove to the mall.

"This is a lovely car," said Emily appreciatively, rubbing the leather on the console between them.

"Thanks."

"Expansive." There was a note of calculation in Emily's voice. Linda caught it.

"Very." Linda pulled into a vacant spot in the multi-storey carpark attached to the mall. She looked at the young woman. "Anything in mind?"

"Maybe."

"In terms of shopping," smiled Linda.

"Underwear, tops. My wardrobe needs freshening up, what with summer coming."

"Where do you normally shop?"

"Primark. It's cheap, and it's for everyday wear, nothing special."

"So, no young man to show them off to?"

"No. Broke up recently. It's partly why I'm down here. Change of scenery. Is there a Mr Linda?"

Linda killed the engine and climbed out. "No. Divorced. I am sort of seeing someone, but it's hit a sticky patch."

"Oh, sorry to hear that."

They made their way to the main concourse. "It's fine. It was very intense, but I knew it would never last, still," a slight regret lingered in Linda's voice.

Emily slipped her arm through Linda's. "You miss him?"

"Sometimes. I mean, we see each other now and then, but I'm just being used for sex."

"And that bothers you?"

"Yes and no. It should bother me more, but--" Linda stopped. "You sure you want to hear this?"

"What? Juicy gossip? You kidding me?" laughed Emily. "Pouring your heart out to a stranger is good for the soul."

"Well, It's partly my own fault. He's a lot younger, so I gave him licence to take the piss, so he takes the piss, yet sometimes I get a kick out of being used for sex, I mean that I'm worthy of being used for sex and tell the truth I use him for sex. That make any sense?"

"Since when did relationships have to make sense? Primark ahead."

"With me, never it seems," smiled Linda. "Come on, I'll treat you."

"You sure?"

"Like you haven't been angling for it." They pushed into the store. "Undies first floor."

"You're the boss."

Linda eyed the girl as they rode the elevator and wondered if that was true.

****

Max winced as Michelle shifted the car into gear. Doubt furrowed his forehead. "You really sure about this, Lady?"

"You heard the recording, or did I just imagine it?"

"Yeah, but we all say shit when you ain't listening. We're always bitching about something, and Finch and Billy go way back. Hey, careful, Lady!" A white van backed off sharply as Michelle shifted lanes. A horn blared behind them.

"Well, it's good to know you ungrateful tossers bitch behind my back!" Frowning, she added: "Christ! What's his fucking problem?"

"You cut him up. He's letting you know and not politely either." They had come to a halt in the traffic, and a stream of abuse could just be heard.

"He'll get over it. You know Billy has been chatting to the Saints?"

"No, what the fuck for?"

"Billy seems to think there is an opportunity to exploit, given our recent fracas with them. Finch and Billy whispering sweet nothings to each other and to them."

"Fuck. You sure?"

"Yeah, I'm fucking sure. Well, that's my guess," she amended grudgingly. "Smithy is going to get more out of Billy today, try and suss what's going on. Once we get more info, we can move."

"You trust Smithy?"

"Smithy values a quiet life and doesn't want any aggrvation. Especially after our last meet."

"That went with a bang," grinned Max.

"Yeah and Smithy doesn't want a repeat showing."

"Silly fucker is getting out," said Max glancing in the wing mirrors.

"Seriously?" Michelle watched a burly man stalk towards them in her rear view.

Max popped open the passenger door. "I'll deal with it."

"It's your fucking girlfriend I want a word with mate!" Burly man was in his forties, florid face and bald.

"Want some advice? Just climb back into your shitty van and fuck off," retorted Max, walking around to the driver's side.

"Fancy poxy motor don't mean she gets to be Queen of the fucking road." Burly man rapped on the driver's side window, only to yelp out as the car door swung open, striking him on the knee.

"Don't knock on my window. It's very rude," said Michelle mildly.

"Fucking cunt!" yelled burly man as he hopped around the road.

Max grabbed him. "Show the lady some respect. Now hoppit."

"No pun intended," added Michelle.

"I'll fucking swing for you both!"

"Yeah, yeah." Max bundled the man back to his van. His companion, a much younger man, had climbed out and was watching warily. "No one wants any trouble. Okay?" Max said to him.

Younger man nodded. "You okay Len?"

"No, I'm not fucking okay! Fucking bitch smacked the door into my knee!"

"You'll fucking live," grunted Max.

"That stupid bitch shouldn't be allowed on the fucking road!"

Max grabbed burly man by the throat, the abuse dying on his lips. "Listen you dumb cunt. One more bad word about Lady and I'll rip your fucking head off and piss down your neck!"

Younger man stepped back in alarm. "Hey, let's just cool it!"

Cars were stacking behind them, the closest ones enjoying the entertainment.

"Get him back in the van." Max watched as the younger man grabbed his coughing companion and dragged him to the passenger side. Muttering, Max walked back to the car, glaring at a driver who tooted his horn impatiently.

"You defending my honour?" smiled Michelle as he belted himself back in.

Max grunted. "Next time, I'll drive."

"You saying I'm a bad driver?"

"You're a shit driver. Bad barely covers it."

Laughing, Michelle eased the car forward.

****

Competing emotions buffeted around in Linda's head. Without thinking, she fished out her inhaler and drew on the contents. The drug hit her system, calming her yet also fanning her interest in the girl. Linda frowned. She couldn't shake off her lingering suspicions about Emily. It was too convenient. On the other hand, did she truly care? Or maybe that was the drug in her system.

"Asthma?" Emily had a blunt boldness to her character. She had returned from the counter, having decided on another slice of pizza.

"What? No." Linda looked down at the inhaler in her hand. Emily's questioning gaze was direct and unabashed. "I take it for the menopause. It's new."

Courtesy of Michelle.

That it alleviated her symptoms had been a bonus.

Seemingly content with the explanation, Emily handed over some cash. "For my undies and the two tops."

"I said it was my treat."

"Buying lunch is a treat. My clothes I'm not entirely comfortable with."

"Is that why you didn't go mad with your purchases?"

Emily nodded.

"I really don't mind."

"Well, I decided I do. To be honest, I wasn't going to pay you back, but I've enjoyed today, and you've been kind which is more than I can say for most down here!"

Linda liked the warm sensation washing through her at the young woman's words."Okay." She took the cash. Her earlier suspicions lessened--or maybe that was the drug too. Their eyes met and held. Emily had the same grey-green colouring as Michelle. Linda took a deep breath and distracted herself with her coffee.

"You okay?" asked Emily.

"Yes, sort of. You just put me in mind of someone."

"Really, who?"

Linda didn't want to go there. Not yet, anyway. "Just someone I know." She immediately felt guilty for dismissing her daughter so casually.

"Okay." Emily didn't seem interested in pursuing it. "What now? More undies shopping for us both or do you want to look at other things?"

"Yes. Home furnishings." It was the first thing that popped into Linda's head.

"You okay with me tagging along?"

"Yes, no, oh, I don't know!"

"Okay." Emily finished her soft drink and looked at Linda in questioning silence.

"I don't really need home furnishings, and who says home furnishings?" Linda slumped back in her seat and sighed: "I'm a mess."

"No, you're not. Very stylish, actually."

"Thanks." Linda was grateful to the girl, even if she was deliberately flattering her.

"What would you like to do instead then?" continued Emily.

It was innocent enough, but Linda still couldn't shake the feeling she was being led on, and the opening was deliberate. Or was she getting paranoid? Besides, did it matter?

Grabbing her bag, Linda stood up. "Walk around the shops, see if anything takes our fancy."

"Anything?" Again, there was that wide-eyed innocence.

"Yes, anything." Linda smiled to herself as Emily slid her arm through hers. She wasn't buying Emily's act, but she didn't care.

****

"Lucas will be back soon. He had to pop out." Maise pushed an orange juice towards Max as she addressed him. She had been told to expect the boss and to keep everyone sweet.

Max nodded and looked at the raised platform that meandered around the room with seats and tables along its length. "Drinks for the gentlemen before they go through to the suites. They can pick the girls off the menu," explained Maise, "while we serve free drinks from the dais." Maise was in her early twenties, blonde, busty, and somewhat earnest with sharp eyes.

"The what?" queried Max.

"The platform. That way, punters can cop a look up our skirts. Tease and lubricate. That's the idea."

"Isn't there a health and safety issue with you girls tottering up and down on heels carrying drinks?" Max kept a straight face.

Maise looked panicked. "It's not that difficult. I can mention it to Lucas?"

"Hey, I'm only teasing. It's looking good for the opening next week. Lucas has done well."

Visibly relieved, Maise laughed and placed her hand on Max's arm. "You had me going there." Keep them sweet, Lucas had said, so sweet she determined to be.

"Got to keep laughing, darlin'" Max heaved himself off the stool and headed for the men's room.

"Are you sure I can't get you anything?" Maise addressed the woman.

Michelle shook her head.

"He had me worried for a moment! He's a funny guy!" Maise resolved to be chatty.

"Not sure I would call Max's sledgehammer wit funny. Painful, yes. Funny, no."

Maise kept quiet and adjusted some glasses behind the bar. "Are you also involved in this venture?"

"Yes."

"Oh."

The woman was beginning to annoy Maise. She couldn't work out where she fitted in. Her dress was casual, black jeans and brown boots, white t-shirt with an expensive tan short jacket. She looked a bit 'arty'; maybe she had been responsible for the club's design. To Maise's relief, Max returned.

"We really need to chat to Lucas?" asked Max. "Everything seems on track, that right, Maise?"

"I think so. Club's kitted out, cellar is stocked, and the girls booked. Should be a big success," she added with a big smile for Max.

"Seems isn't always is. Lucas knew we had a meet, and he's not here. Makes me wonder why," replied Michelle.

"Okay, Lady. You're the boss."

Maise began a rapid reassessment. Michelle could almost hear the girl's mind crashing through the gears. "I don't think there are any problems. One of the girls has been pulled out, other than that--" Maise left the rest unsaid.

"Girls are always dropping in and out in this game," said Max. "She a bit flakey?"

Maise shrugged. "No idea to be honest. Never met her. She got yanked as soon as she arrived by all accounts. Man drama probably."

"Raven, Max!" a cheerful voice interrupted them.

The owner of the voice was a slim, dapper man in his forties. Charm oiling his path. "Sorry I wasn't here. Hitch with some of the lavs. They no flush. Had to go and yank some guys from another job."

Behind him, two workmen hurried through to the men's room.

"Lucky I didn't go for a shit then!" grinned Max. "Good to see you Lukey. Lady thought you may be avoiding us."

"Avoid? Never! Highlight of my day seeing you guys. How is Linda, Kax, the family?"

Michelle had a soft spot for László Toth's charms. The blatant insincerity with which he applied them was disarming and amusing. Hungarian by birth and known as Lucas to everyone, Michelle accepted the peck on the cheek and the damp grasp. She also found his languid gross manner perversely attractive.

"They're fine, thanks. So everything is on track?"

Lucas looked pained. "When have I ever let you down? And can I just say how devine you look, Raven. Doesn't she, Maise? I hope Maise has been looking after you?"

"She's been good as gold." Max winked at Maise, who gave him a grateful look.

"Maise is as good on the tables as she is behind the scenes," beamed Lucas.

"Really?" Michelle appraised the girl. "We always need smart people."

Maise blushed pink. "Thank you, Miss--Raven." she switched her earnest simpering to Michelle, assessing what she now saw as a slightly butch look. She rested her hand on Michelle's arm.

Michelle left it there unacknowledged. "So, the cost for getting the place ready for next week. How much we over budget, and how much of that is you robbing me blind?" The tone was friendly, the look less so.

"Patti will have a detailed update of the final costings by close tonight. We are slightly over. Necessary expenses for moving up the opening, and, of course, what I skimmed for myself."