Fallen Angel

by Angus McLean

  ‘Nothing.’ Alf shook his head harder now, but his face betrayed him. ‘I didn’t talk to him.’

  ‘Don’t lie to me, old man.’ Vance jabbed a finger at his face, baring his stained teeth in a nasty smile. ‘I told you not to talk to him, right?’

  Alf nodded. His sweat ran freely now and his face was pale.

  ‘If I find out you’ve been helping him or Manning, I’ll come after you. Understand?’ Vance’s voice was low and hard. ‘And you wouldn’t like that, Alf. Believe me, you wouldn’t like that.’

  Alf nodded some more. He wiped the back of his hand across his forehead.

  Vance could see his hand was trembling. He eyed the older man for a few seconds longer, before lowering his finger and stepping back. ‘I’ll be seeing ya.’

  He turned and headed for the gate, knowing damn well that Crowley had been up to something. The guy was starting to become a real pain.

  It was time to do something about that.

  Chapter 11

  Molly was waiting for me when I got to the office, just as we had planned. We had a plan to mitigate the risk to ourselves, and like all good plans, it was simple.

  One of us would remain at the office all day, and we would have the house swept for devices before settling in for the night. The next morning we would repeat the same process at the office, but this time we would leave the house under camera surveillance, and would do the same with the office. It was going to cost us but Patrick was good and it was worth the effort.

  I didn’t trust Kennedy and Vance not to try and get more devices installed. Now, don’t get me wrong here, folks. I support the cops as much as anyone. But I also knew that in order for them to get a warrant for covert technical surveillance, they would have to stretch the truth. The whole basis of a warrant to invade someone’s privacy to that extent required solid grounds to believe that such an invasion would obtain evidential material.

  Believe didn’t mean a hunch. Believing wasn’t suspecting. I got it that they would suspect; I would too, in their shoes. But believe? No. Unless they had something solid to go with, and the only thing could be that Mike did it and either confessed, or he was seen doing it.

  I knew he hadn’t done it, so neither of those was an option.

  The whole thing was giving me a headache.

  I steered the Mazda into the rear car park and slotted into our park. I killed the engine and sat for a minute, gathering myself. This was the last thing I had ever thought we’d be involved in when I started the agency. I glanced at myself in the rear view mirror. I looked tired and my ’tash needed a trim.

  I liked my ’tash. It fit well with the PI image. Selleck as Magnum and Reynolds as BL Stryker both did a good ’tash. Maybe I could persuade Mike to join the party.

  Mike. We had to get him out of this jam somehow.

  I cut through the arcade at ground level of the business centre, a walkway with businesses either side, connecting the rear car park to the roadside. As it opened onto the main drag I looked straight across the road to Ladies Mile, the steep hill that headed away at my twelve o’clock. There were a few businesses at this end before it moved into residential premises. The car park to a pub opened off it to the left, and it was common to see cars slipping in and out.

  It wasn’t common to see someone standing there against the fence at the car park entrance, under the shelter of an overhanging tree, but there he was.

  At this distance I couldn’t make out any distinguishing features other than a baseball cap and an unseasonable hoody and jeans. I paused with one foot on the bottom of the concrete stairs that went up to our level, staring straight at him. I saw his head move ever so slightly as if he registered my presence, then he pushed off the fence and disappeared from my view.

  I debated for a nano-second about following him, but knew it wouldn’t do me any good. It might have been sloppy surveillance practices, but he would know he’d been burned and that was all I could do right now. The feeling of helplessness sucked; I was used to making people feel like this, not vice versa.

  I headed upstairs, Molly met me at the door and handed me my daypack. I gave her a kiss, tried to linger, and got the hurry-up. Seconds later I was back on the road, jumping on the motorway and heading south. I wasn’t aware of any further surveillance, but figured they were probably there somewhere. It wouldn’t take them long to realise that their tracking device was now attached to a courier van that had been delivering flowers to someone in the mortgage broker’s.

  I ducked off the motorway at Mount Wellington, cutting across two lanes at the last second to a cacophony of horns, and blew through an orange light to go left.

  Sylvia Park shopping centre was over on my left and I went straight past, blowing another orange. Nothing in my rear view, but I had to be cautious. I threw a sudden U-turn without indicating and came back, ducking into the shopping centre car park and driving through it to the rear exit.

  Anyone following me would have had to be both quick on their feet and cautious, and were therefore likely to stand out.

  I pulled over to the side and watched and waited. Nothing. I took off again, scanning the sky for the Police chopper. God, this was making me paranoid.

  I got back on the motorway and went south again. James Reyne was on the playlist, Motor’s Too Fast. Didn’t he just know it.

  I stayed in the left lane for a bit, hovering on 80, letting cars overtake me. Nobody could sit back without being obvious. I hit the gas and cut across to the fast lane, putting the pedal down and spanking along at 130 for a couple of k’s. Satisfied there was nobody there I jumped off at Manukau and headed east, away from the city centre.

  I reached a set of lights, front of the queue, and slowed for the orange. The light went red and I took off, blasting through the intersection. I was coming out into the country and finally relaxed, taking Mill Rd south to Manurewa where I navigated my way to the Botanical Gardens. It was a sprawling park in suburbia with a visitor centre and beautiful gardens extending off to large open spaces and forest walks.

  A perfect place for a covert meeting.

  I changed quickly beside the car, hoping nobody noticed as I dropped my jeans and threw on my running gear from the boot of the car. I locked up and slung the bag over my back, putting on a decent trot as I left the car park. I took a circuitous route through the gardens, doubling back and trying to catch out any watchers.

  Still nothing.

  I checked my watch and saw it was close to four. I jogged across the park, avoiding other walkers, joggers and dog walkers, and hit the track I needed. It took me into the shade of the forest and up into the hills, away from prying eyes.

  I was breathing hard when I hit a crest and levelled off. There was a sharp drop to my right and the bank to my left was covered in thick undergrowth beneath tall trees. Houses backed onto the top of the hill, fenced off from the park.

  I ducked off the track and scrambled upwards, grabbing roots and branches to haul myself up. I reached the top, sweat running down my face and neck, and found Mike crouching in the undergrowth.

  He gave a half grin when he saw me. ‘You need to do more cardio, mate.’

  ‘Huh.’ I flopped down beside him, shrugging the daypack off.

  I got my breath under control while he opened the bag and withdrew a second day pack. This one was the “go bag” that he kept at the office for emergencies. It had sufficient food, water and emergency supplies for a couple of days.

  He peered into my bag and withdrew a stainless thermos. ‘Molly?’

  I nodded. ‘Yep. Chicken soup.’ I shrugged apologetically. ‘It’s only a packet job, not her homemade stuff. We’ll wait for that ’til we clear you from this.’

  Mike nodded his appreciation and crammed it into his bag. ‘Tell her thanks.’ He lowered his butt to the leaf litter and sat beside me. He looked perfectly at home here in the bush. Army boys. ‘Any news?’

  I filled him in on progress as quickly as I could. There wasn’t much to sa
y. I handed him another wad of cash, and he tucked it into his pocket. I noted that he was wearing cycling gear, which wasn’t his usual get-up. I didn’t ask why.

  ‘You better go, mate,’ he said, getting to his feet.

  I stood too, my lungs finally back to normal. Mike was right; I needed to do more cardio. I looked at him. ‘You okay, mate?’

  He shrugged. ‘Yeah. Nah.’ He sighed. ‘Can’t change it, eh?’

  ‘Don’t stress, man,’ I told him. ‘We’ll get this sorted. Just stay safe.’

  We bumped fists and I was about to speak again when he grabbed my arm and yanked me down. I hadn’t heard a thing, but someone was coming up the track below us. We watched through the branches and leaves as a guy in his thirties came into view. He was in jeans and a casual shirt, with a bum bag round his waist. I could hear him murmuring something, as if talking to himself.

  I didn’t recognise him but I recognised his type.

  ‘Surveillance,’ I breathed. Mike nodded.

  The guy paused, his hands on his hips as he caught his breath, before he continued on up the track and out of sight.

  ‘Later, bro.’ Mike slipped away into the undergrowth, making his way along the fence line away from me. From there he would be able to access surface streets and hopefully disappear.

  I gave the watcher another minute before I slid down the bank to the track and headed down. I passed a pair of fit young ladies in Lycra gear powering up the track, nodded and smiled and carried on. I was coming to the flat now, and started to feel better, knowing I’d given the watcher the slip.

  Emerging from the track out into the open again, the sun was bright and a light breeze was blowing.

  I picked up the pace back through the park towards the visitor centre. There were still joggers, walkers and dog-walkers around, and approaching me were a couple in casual gear. It wasn’t until I got closer that I realised they had slowed and the woman had a phone to her ear. The guy stepped out into the path, blocking my way, and held his hand up for me to stop.

  I sidestepped and slapped his palm as I went past, ignoring whatever it was he was starting to say.

  I got past and had taken a few paces before he grabbed my arm from behind, fingers digging hard into my bicep.

  I stopped and turned, yanking my arm free and pushing him away.

  ‘Hey!’ He grabbed at me again.

  ‘What the hell, man?’ I whacked his hands away. ‘Help!’

  He was grabbing at me and I was back pedalling fast, shouting for help. People were starting to turn and look.

  ‘Stop right there!’ he was shouting, his partner coming up behind him, something in her hand.

  ‘Get off me!’ I had to play this for keeps and force their hand. I instantly regretted that decision.

  The woman came up beside him, raising her hand and yelling, ‘Spray!’

  The guy immediately ducked aside and I closed my eyes as I turned away, managing to take the jet of pepper spray on my shoulder instead of in my face. I stepped away, keeping my head tucked down, and was doing okay until the guy swept my legs and dumped me on the ground. I went down on my left wrist and felt a jolt of pain blast up my arm.

  I rolled onto my side, gasping with pain, and was a sitting duck for the next blast of spray. I took it full in the face and inhaled it. The pain was excruciating and I wanted to curl up in a ball and cry for mama. My eyes and sinuses were on fire like nothing I’d ever felt before. They’d upgraded the OC spray since I was in the job, and the new stuff was like the devil’s breath.

  They handcuffed me easily, securing my hands behind my back and not being too careful about my injured wrist. I lay there trying to breathe, my eyes screwed shut. I heard the woman on the phone, telling someone they’d got me, and arranging to meet at the car park.

  ‘Where’s your mate?’ the guy asked as he searched me roughly.

  I spat a string of saliva and didn’t reply. It was enough effort just to not wet my pants right now. They hauled me to my feet and the guy got in my ear again.

  ‘Where is he? We know he’s here somewhere.’ He jerked my arm to get my attention. He didn’t need to bother. ‘Just tell us where he is and maybe we can look at letting you go.’

  I snorted to clear my nose but it didn’t help; it was flowing and I was crying like a kid with a broken toy.

  ‘Get me water,’ I managed.

  He grunted and they walked me by each arm, my head bent forward and my wrists throbbing. What was it with putting the cuffs on too tight these days?

  An eternity later we reached the car park and they pushed me against the side of a vehicle. They unlocked my cuffs, sat me on the ground and let me administer the after-spray care to myself. Basically it was a cleansing spray that cooled the effects of the spray and allowed you to breathe properly and open your eyes.

  When I did so I saw Vance and Kennedy standing over me, both with their hands on their hips. They were enjoying the show.

  I gave myself another squirt of after-care spray and went to stand. Vance and the other guy pushed me back down.

  I ignored them and turned my attention to Kennedy, who was standing back, making sure he didn’t get his hands dirty. ‘What the hell’s this about, Kennedy?’

  ‘I would’ve thought that was pretty clear.’ His teeth when he smirked were small and rodent-like. I wanted to knock them down his throat. ‘Give him up, Crowley. This is over.’

  I shook my head in amazement. ‘I haven’t got a clue, you idiot. I was out for a run and got attacked by these turkeys.’ I jerked a thumb at the couple standing to the side. ‘I didn’t even know they were cops.’

  The guy made a scoffing noise and shook his head. He was about to speak when his female partner cut him off.

  ‘We told you to stop, identified ourselves as Police, and you tried to avoid us,’ she said.

  I shook my head, amazed at her audacity. ‘No, he gave me a high five then you both assaulted me.’

  Kennedy glanced at them, and the woman continued. ‘There was no mistake, sir. He tried to dodge us, we grabbed him and that’s when he started resisting.’

  ‘Resisting what?’ I scoffed. ‘I wasn’t under arrest.’

  ‘Get him in the car,’ Vance said. ‘We can sort this out away from the public eye.’

  They hauled me up again and put the cuffs back on. Passers-by had stopped to watch the show. I eyeballed Vance as I was cuffed.

  ‘So what’s this?’ I said.

  ‘This, Crowley, is you under arrest.’

  His confidence unnerved me. I tried not to let it show.

  ‘For what?’

  He smirked again. ‘Accessory to murder.’

  Chapter 12

  By dinner time, Molly was getting seriously concerned. Dan was not a man to miss a meal, nor was he a man to ignore his wife’s calls. Having left him a voice message and two texts, she followed her gut and called Buck.

  ‘Have you heard from Dan?’ she said as soon as he answered.

  ‘No, why?’

  Molly paused, unsure of how much she should say. Even though Buck was a friend, he was also a cop, and she couldn’t afford to compromise him. ‘Oh, nothing, he’s just out making some enquiries into Sarah’s murder and I haven’t heard from him.’

  ‘He’s not answering his phone?’

  ‘Nope.’

  ‘I’ll call you back.’

  Molly drummed her fingers on the kitchen bench as she waited. Patrick had been over and cleared the house, finding a listening device concealed in the lounge smoke alarm and another in a power socket in the dining room.

  All this business was unnerving and Molly had a knot of tension in her gut. She was worried about Mike, she was worried about Dan and now she was worried about their livelihood; she had the feeling that Kennedy and the other guy, whose name she couldn’t recall, would stop at nothing. To nail Mike, first and foremost, but also to dig the knife into Dan as well.

  The phone trilled and she jumped involuntarily.


  ‘Found him,’ Buck said. He sounded breathless and uneasy.

  ‘Where is he?’ Molly felt her throat go dry. She knew this wasn’t going to be good.

  ‘Bad news, Molly.’

  ‘Just tell me.’ She realised she was gripping the phone like a drowning sailor.

  ‘He’s been arrested.’

  Molly felt her stomach drop through the floor.

  ‘Molly? You there?’

  ‘Yeah … yeah, I’m here. What for?’

  ‘Accessory to murder. They reckon he’s been hiding Mike.’ Buck went quiet for a moment, and she sensed what was coming. ‘He hasn’t has he, Molly? Dan wouldn’t be so stupid.’ He was quiet again. ‘Would he?’

  Molly forced herself to suck in a breath and focus. Now was not the time to be falling apart. ‘Of course not. Of course he hasn’t been hiding him, we don’t know even know where he is.’ She felt a surge of confidence as she spoke, and even though she hated lying to a friend, she desperately hoped he bought it. ‘Listen to me, Buck, I can one hundred percent say that Dan has not been hiding Mike, okay?’

  She could almost see him nodding down the line. ‘Of course,’ he said, not sounding quite convinced.

  ‘Where is he?’

  ‘At Central, being interviewed apparently.’

  ‘Can I see him?’

  ‘I doubt it. You could ring and ask, but they’ll probably say no.’

  ‘He can have a lawyer though, can’t he?’

  ‘If he wants one.’

  Molly nodded to herself, a plan starting to formulate in her head. ‘Quick question then … if he’s been arrested for being an accessory to murder, then he has to have been helping the murderer somehow, doesn’t he?’

  ‘Correct.’

  ‘Which means they have to prove that a particular person is the murderer, don’t they? Like a specific person, not just a mysterious “someone”, is that right?’

  ‘Yep.’ Buck went silent again. ‘I see where you’re going with this Molly, and you’re right. They will have to prove firstly that there was a murder, then prove that Mike did it, then that Dan helped him somehow.’