Take A Thousand Cuts

by TERESA HUNTER

  Laura nodded in her calm thoughtful manner.

  “Oh yes. I’ve plenty of ideas how to improve healthcare among poor communities. Our father’s money will be well spent.”

  THE SEAPLANE linked up with the private jet in a secluded disused army runway, deep in the Singapore jungle. Julia talked more to Ziggy about her journey of misunderstanding and misconceptions. She spoke to Laura about Dr Kathy, who when the chips were down, betrayed them both for money.

  “I’m fairly sure, she thought I was dead. They offered her money. It was tempting. She never thought to see me alive again.”

  “But we did,” Julia said.

  “Did you really, Julia? Did you honestly expect to find me?”

  Julia nodded. “Part of my training. You always believe in your story, until you have irrefutable proof you’re on the wrong track. My hunch all along was we would find you and bring you back.”

  Next she questioned Patrick about hiding Stephen and keeping it a secret.

  “You could’ve trusted me. Why didn’t you?” He screwed his eyes into a barbed expression. “It wasn’t your secret to share?”

  “Something like that,” he grinned, sheepishly.

  A doubt niggled at the back of her mind.

  “Why did Mantel order the murder of Adam Lee if he was his main sidekick? He told me he was fond of Lee.”

  “Ah,” said Ziggy, stepping down the aircraft steps behind her at Heathrow Airport. “I think your Chief Inspector’s working on that. The trail to Lee’s killing leads all the way back to London and...”

  “The Triad war,” Julia finished for him.

  “Poor Adam,” Laura’s voice was full of compassion, as she walked gingerly down the steps. “I knew him as a boy. We were at the same school. St Paul’s. Very difficult childhood. Left him damaged.”

  “He was driven and not in a good way,” said Silverman. “He was always going to self-destruct.”

  “He turned good in the end, Patrick. Never forget that,” Laura said. “He warned us all. Without his tip-off, who knows what might have happened to any of us.”

  CHAPTER 49

  Thursday September 2

  Bermondsey

  STORIES flew fast and furious from Julia’s fingers following her return to the office. Day after day she released a new exposé of major crime syndicates in Hong Kong and their paymasters at two corrupt international banks.

  “And health has a major exclusive for tomorrow’s front on the pandemic threat from China,” Andrew Ludgate said, when he called to congratulate her. “Met the chairman of the Wincott Awards at lunch yesterday. Tipped the wink you could be up for a prestigious prize. Great work, all round.”

  “Let’s hope Laura’s research will help universities and hospitals.”

  Safely out of China, Laura was happy to go public with her experience and findings of the Avian flu trajectory.

  “Indeed. We must have lunch sometime soon, so you can tell me all the sordid details. Sounds quite an adventure.”

  Julia laughed. “That’s one way of putting it. Honestly, Andrew. Trust me, you’d rather not know. Or let me put it another way, the insurers would have a fit. Just be happy I got back safely with the story.”

  “However you did it, congratulations. Much feedback?”

  “Not so far. A few congratulatory emails. Banks are quiet. Good to see Warwick Mantel behind bars.”

  “Only a committal hearing, isn’t it?”

  “I know, but after everything – “

  “Different system. Can’t be sure of anything. By the way, your young lad Cody’s a find. Great promise and talent.”

  “Cody? I know,” Julia screwed up a piece of paper and threw it across the office, hitting her side-kick on the nose. “Don’t go getting any ideas.”

  “No, you keep him for a bit. Keep knocking the rough edges off, then I’ll take him.”

  “You’ll be lucky to get him. He’ll walk into the job of his choice when I’m finished with him.”

  “In his dreams. He did well, though, nailing that trust fraud, and finding the Treasurer.”

  She heard him moving his chair, and say, “hang on a moment.” Someone had entered his office. He turned his attention back to her.

  “I have to go. Remind me? Did we ever totally nail down who was responsible for the murders of Adam Lee and Halamanning?”

  “Andrew, can I remind you, I’m your money reporter. These are stories for your crime team, or a title that has a proper crime team. I’d like to get back to writing boring stories about share price movements and interest rates.”

  “You didn’t used to call them boring,” Ludgate teased. “I have to go. Knock me off a boring piece on the stock market.”

  Julia put the phone down, and shouted across to Cody, “Big praise from boss man, Cody. You’ve made your mark. It’ll be plain sailing all the way. I knew that first day you stood here,” she pointed to the other side of the desk, “you had what it takes. You did brilliantly when I was away.”

  “Chief Inspector Pitcher was a great help.”

  “That I doubt.”

  Julia’s phone vibrated as a text message landed from the gynaecological surgery.

  You have missed four appointments with the clinic. Please attend this evening at 6pm. You require a further test urgently.

  A slow chill ran through her. This can’t be happening. Not after all I’ve been through.

  The telephone rang.

  “Ms Lighthorn?” the voice was abrupt.

  “Yes?”

  The voice softened. It was the clinic. “We need to see you urgently. I don’t want to worry you, but your tests show abnormalities. We need to examine you further. Do you understand?”

  Julia slid her tongue across the back of her front teeth.

  “Ms Lighthorn?”

  “Yes,” she conceded.

  “The consultant’s staying late to see you at 6 o’clock. It’s imperative you attend.”

  “Are you trying to tell me...”

  “Your tests point to the need for further investigation. I’m sorry, but you must treat this matter seriously.”

  “Yes of course, thank you. I’ll be there,” her voice weakened to a simper. A steel band tightened round her rib cage.

  She turned back to the story she was working on, despite a rising dread. Don’t think about it, focus on your work, a voice inside tried to calm her.

  So she banished dark thoughts, determined to look on the bright side.

  Who’d have thought, the makers of My Little Pony would have been one of the best performers in the aftermath of the crash? she chuckled to herself.

  She clicked to blow up a chart comparing the top climbers when her phone rang again. Pitcher’s number flashed up.

  “Glad you got back safely. Trust you didn’t catch Kung Flu?”

  “Very funny. What took you so long to call?”

  “I’ve been busy, writing the Riot Act I’ll be reading when I see you again. Which is why I’m calling. Drink tonight? We need to talk. By the way, have you upgraded your security? Judging by your columns, you don’t seem to care how many enemies you make.”

  “If I’m not making enemies, I’m not doing my job properly.”

  “Is that so? Be careful Julia, this story isn’t over. We haven’t solved the murders of Adam Lee or Halamanning. We’re on the brink of a gangland war in London. You may have covered yourself in glory my little Lightbulb, but we’re a long way from faces in the dock.”

  “Lighthorn, my name’s Lighthorn. Can you come to Casse Croute?”

  “Opposite your place? OK, I’ll see you at six.”

  “No not six. There’s something I have to do. What about seven?”

  Julia replaced the phone and sat staring blankly at her screen.

  Surely, it can’t be cancer. I’ve not had any symptoms.

  With a heavy heart she googled cervical cancer, bile rising in her stomach.

  No, nothing, she thought, reading through a list of
symptoms, until she came to ones relating to sex and pain. Can’t comment there, bit of a desert since...

  Get back to work, a voice inside jogged her along. She returned to her piece, struggling to get it right. Cutting it, rewriting, and cutting again. Only when satisfied, did she hit send, checking the time as she did so.

  She started clearing her desk.

  “Cody, I need to leave early,” she said, as another call came in.

  It was Ziggy. She switched onto speaker phone.

  “When I think how you lied and lied to me,” she began, laughing.

  “Julia, this isn’t a social call. I have news.”

  Cody looked up.

  “Mantel got bail, he’s out.”

  “Bastard,” Julia slammed her fist on her desk.

  “What about all that protective custody and re-education the Chinese are supposed to go in for?”

  “There’s more. He’s disappeared.”

  “What?” she looked over at Cody. “You mean the Chinese have him?”

  “Not this time. He’s gone.”

  “Gone where?”

  “We’ve no idea.”

  “Did he get his money out?”

  “What do you think?”

  CHAPTER 50

  “DON’T STAY too late,” Julia said to Cody as she left. “Tomorrow could be a long day.”

  “I know, journalism will kill you if you let it,” he grinned. “Still, nothing else will make you feel this alive.”

  Julia tried to smile but her spirits were reeling in the face of endless assault. She ached at the thought of Mantel escaping justice, and felt sick with dread at the appointment ahead.

  A walk will do me good. Probably quicker in the rush hour, she thought, as she set off. Soon she was flying along the Embankment, across Southwark Bridge and down Fleet Street to the clinic.

  “Ms Lighthorn?” the Receptionist said, kindness deep in her voice. “Straight through. He’s waiting for you.”

  His door stood open. Julia paused outside, looking through into the surgery. She took a deep breath, a dead thump in her chest. Surely this can’t be happening?

  She knocked on the open door and stepped inside the surgery, stretching her face into a fake smile.

  “You’re here,” her taxi thief turned to greet her, a kind expression warming his eyes. “I hear you’ve been on your travels. How was China?”

  “Fine,” she said, knowing he was trying to help her relax.

  “Come and sit down.”

  She sat. He explained as clearly but gently as he could, that her last test had shown some abnormalities, which further examination had not resolved.

  “Today, I need to look with a camera. It’s a tiny thing. Not entirely comfortable for you, but it’s quick and conclusive. Nurse is here to help you.”

  He stood, and the nurse approached, pulled a curtain dividing the room and signalled for her to get on the couch.

  Julia swallowed hard then bent to undress.

  WITHIN HALF AN HOUR, she was skipping back over London Bridge. “I am happy, oh so happy,” she sung under a breath, jubilant at getting the all clear – an enormous weight lifted from her shoulders.

  She bounced under a London Bridge railway arch and turned into Bermondsey Street. Further up the road, she saw Pitcher’s car pull out of Tanner Lane, on his way to meet her. She started to think about the delicious dinner ahead, and what Pitcher would say about the latest Mantel news.

  Her thoughts were shattered by a sudden crashing noise. Glass cascaded from a first floor window further down the road.

  “Dear God, it’s my office,” she broke into a run.

  Before she could get there, a gang spilled out the door and into the back of a van which tore away at breakneck speed.

  Pitcher jumped out of his car, and stood in the road to block their escape.

  “No,” Julia screamed, as the vehicle raced towards him. He jumped aside at the very last moment, just as it brushed past him.

  “Cody,” Pitcher shouted, storming the stairs. She had never seen him move so fast. Julia’s heart hammered in her ears as she leapt up behind him

  “Fucking bastards,” she cried seeing a scene of utter devastation. Desks upturned or smashed. One had a machete rammed into it – a menacing warning. A carpet of glass covered the floor. Telephones ripped from sockets lay liked beached seals on their sides.

  “Oh my God, no, no,” her gaze zoomed in on Cody lying crumpled on the floor. Pitcher was on the phone calling the emergency services.

  She fought back tears as she knelt beside Cody, whose left eye was beginning to swell.

  “I did my best. There were too many,” he pushed his tongue to the side of his mouth. “I think they’ve cracked a tooth.”

  “That’ll improve your smile,” Julia said cheerily, though her chest felt ripe to burst. She watched Pitcher kneel beside Cody, and lift him gently into a sitting position, a supportive arm behind his back. Sirens rang in the distance, clamouring louder as they approached.

  “You know what they say Cody,” Pitcher said, “Never pick a fight with ugly people.”

  “They’ve nothing to lose, ouch,” Cody smiled through his bruises, as paramedics raced through the door.

  Pitcher and Julia stood back to make way for them. She felt an arm wrap round her shoulder.

  “Don’t worry, he’ll be fine,” Pitcher said.

  Julia saw a dark shadow under his brow. Tears finally welled up in her eyes.

  This is all my fault.

  CHAPTER 51

  Friday September 3

  THEY WERE COMING for me. Julia pushed away pictures of Dr Kathy, her body smashed and shattered, of Adam Lee garroted and blinded and Halamanning slashed to ribbons hanging from a tree.

  Pitcher insisted on driving her home.

  “Something held them back, didn’t it?” she said. “It wasn’t him they were after. They were coming for me. I would’ve been there if I hadn’t been called away.”

  “I wouldn’t go down any dark alleys,” Pitcher replied, his face grim. “He’ll be fine.”

  They both knew when Triads sought revenge, they seldom settled for less than a vicious murder.

  The following morning dawned brighter. She called the hospital – yes, Cody was comfortable – then headed into the office. Mr Bardetti was waiting for her outside the deli. He wrapped both arms round her. They walked up the stairs together. Someone had already up-righted desks and chairs. Her money was on Pitcher and his team. Telephones plugged in, lines reconnected. A temporary screen fitted to the windows.

  “I’ve been on to the insurers. Their emergency repairmen should be out later this morning. It’ll all be as new.”

  “Or women,” Julia couldn’t resist.

  “That’s my girl,” Aldo said. “Make yourself comfortable and I will fix coffee and breakfast.”

  She sat gingerly at her desk. The phone rang almost immediately. It was Patrick Silverman.

  “Julia, I’m so sorry this had to happen. How are you?”

  “Morning Patrick. I’ve been better. Poor Cody took a beating. I’m assured he’ll be fine. Largely bruising and a cracked tooth. Gave us a bad fright.”

  “I’m sure it did. Can I suggest you lay low for a bit. Keep your by-line out of headlines – out of the press altogether.”

  “You sound like Chief Inspector Pitcher. I’m grateful for your concern, honestly I am, but I won’t be bullied into silence. We can’t let the bad guys win.”

  “These are dangerous people. Keep antagonising them and it may not end well. I heard there were six of them.”

  “So we think. Cody’s a Tai Chi champion and swears he gave as good as he got.”

  Silverman didn’t laugh. “It could’ve been much worse.”

  “I know. How’re things your end?”

  “That’s partly why I’m calling.” Silverman cleared his throat. “Laura’s not well.”

  “The virus? I thought she’d had it.”

  “She’s
having a test today. It’s possible it’s something else.”

  “Send my best wishes, and keep me in the loop. Where are you?”

  “We’re all here in Cornwall.”

  “Stephen and Rebecca with you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Some difficult conversations there.”

  “Rebecca loves Stephen, they’ll be fine.”

  Ludgate called next with commiserations.

  “Great stuff. You’re rattling some very large cages. Keep doing what you’re doing.”

  “Thanks for that, Andrew,” Julia said after she replaced the receiver.

  The insurers were as good as their word, and in no time her office was back to normal. At 5pm she called it a day and headed for St Thomas’s to see Cody – down Tooley Street, past Southwark Cathedral, peeling off automatically along a medieval passageway at the side of Borough Market. She used this little known alleyway often, rarely meeting anyone. Few tourists took the rat runs.

  Yet she found herself glancing repeatedly over her shoulder. Everything looked and felt different – confidence shaken. She sensed tiny hairs on the back of her neck tingle when she heard footsteps behind her. Her pulse quickened. Don’t get jittery, she told herself, smiling when a nurse rushed past her on her way to her night shift, diving off left in the direction of the hospital.

  Julia walked on alone again. See, no Triads intent on murder, she chuckled at her silly fears.

  But the footsteps didn’t stop when the nurse passed. Someone else was walking behind her. She slowed her stride, hoping whoever it was would overtake her. Her stomach flipped when the footsteps slowed and fell into step. With heart thumping, she started to run. She thought of the eyeless body of Adam Lee, Halamanning hacked to death.

  She ran as fast as she could down the narrow, zigzagging lane, but her shadow ran faster.

  He’s gaining on me …the lane opens onto the embankment soon. If I can just stay ahead.