by Karla Forbes
Hubner inhaled deeply and sat back in his seat. “He’s not going to be repeating it to anyone,” he said mildly.
Nick didn’t like the way the conversation was going. “You’re too late,” he said. “I’ve already told the authorities everything I know.”
Hubner fixed him with a look of disdain. “Really? And what exactly is it you think you know?”
“I know you murdered my friend on the boat,” Nick said, his voice bitter.
“Clearly the police didn’t believe you,” Hubner countered.
“They’ll believe me now,” Nick shot back. “Plutonium and diamonds aren’t the currency of innocent men.”
“True,” Hubner conceded, “but as there’s nothing to link me with either, I’m not going to be losing any sleep.”
“What do you mean?” Wilson asked quickly. “Malcolm raped Feltham’s missus. If they know who he is, they know who we are.”
“As far as I’m aware, it’s not a crime to know Malcolm,” Hubner stated innocently.
“But—”
“But what? It wasn’t me who left my DNA on a murder victim. It wasn’t me who drove around London being seen by a number of council workers. It wasn’t me who snatched the girl off the streets in broad daylight or spoke at length to her father on the telephone. There won’t be any witnesses coming forward saying that they saw me or spoke to someone with a German accent. If we don’t pull this off, I’ll be hiring a good solicitor. Apart from losing out on the diamonds, I don’t expect to be unduly inconvenienced.”
Fox’s turned to face Hubner, his expression vicious. “You bastard,” he spat.
Hubner’s smile was almost serene. “Why?” he asked. “We decided beforehand that it made sense for me to stay in the background. It’s hardly my fault if that leaves me in the clear if anything goes wrong.”
Nick didn’t know the details of what was being discussed, but he recognised a good opportunity to sow seeds of discontent.
“It seems to me,” he said, slowly and deliberately, “that I’m not the only superfluous witness around here.”
“What are you going on about?” Fox asked, his voice surly.
“It stands to reason, doesn’t it? If I’m dead, you and Wilson are the only two left who can put Hubner behind bars.”
Hubner gave a hollow laugh. “Very clever, but your juvenile tactics are not going to work. Now shut your mouth before I decide that your hostage value isn’t that great after all.”
Wilson appeared not to be so easily assured. “He’s got a point, Gerhard. If this goes wrong, Malcolm and I are the only people who can testify against you.”
“It won’t go wrong,” Hubner stated with confidence. “I know what I’m doing.”
Without pausing to think about what he was saying, Nick made a stab in the dark.
“Did you know what you were doing when you caused a friend of mine to run into the path of an oncoming car?”
He saw by the expression of fury that flared briefly in Hubner’s eyes that he had hit home.
“I told you, shut up!” Hubner snarled.
“What’s up?” Nick asked. “Don’t you like being reminded that you’re as fallible as the next guy?”
Hubner snatched up his gun and pressed it hard against Nick’s forehead. He was breathing quickly as his finger closed over the trigger.
Nick realised that at this moment his life hung by a thread. He wanted to close his eyes but couldn’t.
“Do you know what damage a hollow-nosed bullet can do fired at close range into a man’s skull?” Hubner asked.
If Nick was required to answer, his mouth was too dry at that moment to oblige.
“Let me tell you,” Hubner continued. “Hot gases and particulate matter are driven directly into the skin, charring and lacerating it as the bullet enters. The soft lead hollow nose deforms and fragments as it rips into the bone. This has the same effect on the brain as dropping it into a food processor. The exit wound is of course far larger than the entry wound, with the result that your pulverised brain is scattered over the upholstery, together with several pints of blood and large amounts of fragmented skin and bone. It is, however, a very quick way to die. Do you have any more to say?”
For the first time ever, Nick didn’t have a handy quote to cover the situation.
“Only that you speak excellent English,” he said lamely. “That was very descriptive.”
Hubner inclined his head at the compliment. “Thank you. I’m so glad we understand each other.”
The gun was withdrawn as quickly as it had appeared. Hubner returned to consulting his map, leaving Nick feeling physically sick. He had occasionally wondered how he would react in the face of imminent death. Now he knew. He would go to his maker with vomit rising in his throat and a glib remark on his lips.
Fox was still sniggering at the scene that had just been played out when Wilson made a right turn following the signs to Faversham. His face fell at the sight of a police car speeding towards them from the opposite direction.
“Shit!” Wilson said under his breath. “What do we do?”
“Do nothing,” Hubner ordered tersely. “If you act guilty you’ll attract attention.”
The car raced past them and carried on going. The two policemen were staring intently at the road ahead and barely glanced in their direction. There was an audible exhaling of breath inside the Ford Focus. Everyone but Nick seemed relieved.
“That was lucky,” Wilson said with a grin.
“Luck had nothing to do with it,” Hubner told him. “Don’t assume that the authorities know what they’re looking for. Why would they associate a burning van in Pegwell Bay with the diamonds going into the sea at Ramsgate?”
Because, arsehole, Nick thought, you’re travelling in a car belonging to a police sergeant who by now has issued the details to everyone who needs to know.
Wisely, he decided to keep this particular piece of information to himself.
***
“Did you get the registration?” the driver of the police car said.
“Yep. It was them,” his colleague confirmed. He radioed in the information.
“The target has been spotted leaving the A299 and heading towards Faversham on the A2. We’re doing a U-turn now but we can’t risk getting too close.”
“Can you confirm the number of men inside the vehicle?” the controller asked.
“Four men, all answering the description.”
“Fine. Keep them in sight if you can, but stay well back.”
“Do you know what this is all about?” the policeman asked.
“Not really,” the controller admitted, “only that it’s linked to that earlier business at Kent International.”
The policeman disconnected. “Come on, Geoff,” he said. “Get your foot down. You’re not out for an afternoon stroll.”
The driver peered through the windscreen, pulling his mouth into a grimace.
“Too late, mate. I think we’ve lost them.”
Chapter Eighteen
Nick was silent for less than five minutes.
“What I don’t understand,” he asked of no one is particular, “is why you brought the diamonds back to shore, only to race around looking for a boat to steal. Why didn’t you have a boat waiting? You could have got clean away.”
“One more word and you were going to shoot him,” Fox reminded Hubner.
“A wise man speaks because he has something to say, a fool speaks because he has to say something,” Nick observed sadly.
Wilson nodded with approval. “I know that one. Aristotle wasn’t it?”
“Shut the fuck up, both of you!” Fox bellowed, flushing with humiliation.
Nick snatched a quick sideways look at Hubner to catch his reaction. The half-smile on his face suggested that he was enjoying Fox’s discomfort. Nick filed the fact away in his mind for later; it might be useful. In the meantime he tried a different approach, resorting to flattery and massaging Hubner’s ego.
&nbs
p; “It’s obvious that you’re well-organised,” he said ingratiatingly, “so am I right in assuming this wasn’t part of the plan?”
“Have you forgotten our engine broke down?” Hubner muttered.
“I’m not likely to, am I?” Nick shot back, remembering Tim and letting his anger get the better of him. “I guess I was wrong about you being organised.”
Hubner glared at the others. “I made the mistake of delegating,” he growled.
Nick came to his senses and made an effort to mask his hatred. Hubner had a volatile temper, and anyone who annoyed him was treading a dangerous path.
“Why scuttle the boat?” he asked his tone more respectful.
“It would have been too dangerous putting in for repairs. We couldn’t risk being seen.”
“So why not keep my boat?”
“Oh yeah?” Hubner sneered. “And have the police finding us when they checked out your story? And before you ask, we couldn’t steal another boat straight away. It would have been a liability.” He turned back to the map. “I’ve indulged you long enough. You will now be quiet. No more questions.”
Nick was desperate to keep the dialogue going. He needed to find a way of widening the rift between these men.
“People like you must have contacts,” he ventured. “Couldn’t you have flown out of the country with forged documentation?”
“Have you ever tried getting sixty million quid’s worth of diamonds through customs?” Hubner asked dryly.
“Sixty million…” Nick repeated, his words trailing away in disbelief.
“Are you going to tell this arsehole everything?” Fox snapped.
“As if that matters now,” Wilson retorted. “It’s because of you they know who we are.”
Recalling the earlier mention of DNA, Nick sensed an opportunity. “Been letting the side down, have you, Fox?”
Fox whirled around in his seat and grabbed Nick tightly around the throat. “If you’re not going to kill him, Gerhard, I fucking will.”
“Put him down,” Hubner said mildly. “We need a hostage. And he’s good with boats.”
Fox glared with hatred at Nick before reluctantly releasing his grip. Nick sagged forward, gasping as he sucked air into his lungs. He hadn’t been wrong about Fox’s fists. He could easily throttle a man with one hand.
“Sounds to me, Fox, as though you’re a liability,” he said wheezing as he massaged life back into his throat. “If you keep screwing up, it’s only a matter of time before the police catch up with you.” He turned to Hubner. “Shame that a loser like that can testify against you and put you behind bars.”
With a howl of rage Fox whirled around in his seat and pulled back a clenched fist. Nick instinctively flinched, ducking away, but the knuckles didn’t connect.
With lighting reflexes Hubner blocked the punch. “I said leave it!” he snarled. “Can’t you see what he’s doing? He’s trying to wind you up.” He turned back to Nick. “I admire your efforts,” he said coldly. “It’s been amusing to watch, but you will stop now. My friend here is rising to your bait, and I won’t have that. When people get angry they make mistakes, and we still have work to do.”
Nick lapsed into thoughtful silence. Hubner was clearly no fool.
“Where to now?” Wilson asked, as a sign to Faversham town centre came and went. Hubner consulted his map. “We’re near a tributary of the River Swale. There’s a place along here called Oare Creek. It looks as though the boats are moored on the river bank.” He turned to Nick with a sly smile. “Old boats that don’t have elaborate security systems.”
Nick greeted this plan with scorn. “You’ve never heard of tides, have you? No, I don’t suppose you have. Not the greatest seafaring race in the world, the Germans. Tides are what you need to get you out of mud. But I’m quite happy to sit around waiting if you are.”
“I’m going to enjoy killing you,” Hubner stated without emotion.
Nick smiled innocently. “I’m only pointing out the obvious.”
“Is he right?” Fox asked, alarmed. “We can’t hang around waiting for some fucking high tide. We’ve got to get away now.”
Nick pushed on with his lesson on the pitfalls of sailing. “Even if you’re lucky and the tide is in, are you confident that you can navigate out to sea? I know the area well; it’s notorious for its sandbanks. You’re not going to look too clever stuck in the mud a couple of miles out from shore, so why don’t you do the sensible thing and give up now?”
“You are going to navigate us through the sandbanks,” Hubner informed him. “I know how much you enjoy offering your assistance.”
“Me?” Nick asked in disbelief.
“Just before we slit his throat, your friend said that what you don’t know about boats isn’t worth knowing. Who better to have as a hostage?”
A vision of Tim’s blood gushing over the deck rose unbidden in Nick’s mind.
“Fuck off!” he spat. “You might as well kill me now, because I won’t be helping you.”
“Yes you will,” Hubner contradicted him. “When it comes to the choice of navigating the boat through the sandbanks or taking a bullet between your eyes, you’ll be falling over yourself to help. Even when people know they’re going to die, its human nature to put off the inevitable as long as possible. If I told you that dancing naked with a rose stuck up your arse would buy you a few extra minutes, you would do it. I never cease to be amazed at the lengths people will go to, to prolong their miserable lives by even a few more seconds.”
Nick’s blood ran cold. It was clear from this man’s words that he had witnessed many people begging for their life. He fell silent.
Hubner smiled with satisfaction. “At last you have the measure of me,” he said, before turning back to his map. “Take a right here and pull over.”
Wilson did as he was told.
“Wait here, both of you. I’m going to take a look around. If our guest tries to escape, you have my permission to kill him.”
“A pleasure,” Fox said. Nick believed him.
All three men watched Hubner as he slipped out of the car and made his way towards the landing jetties. He looked like a man out for a stroll, enjoying the sunset. Nick was aware that time was running out.
“Sixty million quid,” he said with respect. “That’s worth killing to protect.”
“Yeah, you’ll be finding that out,” Fox sniggered.
“And you think he’ll settle for just killing me, do you?” Nick asked. “He’s a cold-blooded murderer. I don’t think he’s planning on sharing those diamonds.”
“I told you, shut up,” Fox rasped, but with less certainty than before.
“Not that it’s any of your business,” Wilson told Nick smugly, “but he’s no diamonds expert. He still needs someone like me around.”
Nick snorted with derision. “You think he can’t get someone like you for considerably less than your share of sixty million?” He turned to Fox. “And why would he keep you on the payroll? I was watching you bringing the diamonds to shore. I imagine you've done your bit. Face it, pal, you’re an expensive liability. He’s got the gun, not you. It would be very easy for him to put a bullet into your head and save himself twenty million quid.”
Fox opened his mouth to speak but closed it again.
Heartened, Nick continued. “You’ve got sixty million right here in the car,” he urged. “Why give him the opportunity to kill you and keep it all for himself?”
“Don’t listen to him,” Wilson said. “He’s trying to keep himself alive.” He turned to Nick. “Don’t you ever shut up? You’re wasting your breath. More to the point, you’re getting on my nerves. You heard the man; if you try anything, I can kill you.”
“That would suit him, wouldn’t it?” Nick said, pressing on despite the warning. “He’s very good at getting other people to do his dirty work. What was it he said? It was you who was seen going around London, you who kidnapped some kid off the streets, you who spoke on the phone to her fath
er. I don’t pretend to know what’s going on, but it’s blindingly obvious that you are taking all the risks while the Führer is sitting on his arse, laughing at you both.”
He saw a look of uncertainly flare in Wilson’s eyes before being quickly extinguished. Nick opened his mouth, resolved to push his luck some more, but at that moment the back door was thrown open and Hubner slid in beside him, breathing quickly from where he had been running.
“Pull in over there,” he said, jabbing his finger to indicate the road ahead. “Our friend here will be relieved to know that the tide is in. There are several older boats moored along the river back. We’ll take one of them.”
Nick sat back, temporarily silenced. Once he had navigated them out to sea, he knew that his value to them as a hostage and an expert sailor would be over.
Somehow he had to prevent them taking him on board, but he was rapidly running out of options.
***
Anson terminated the call and turned to Ed, his earlier optimism apparently restored.
“We’re closing in,” he said with a smile of triumph. “A squad car reported seeing them on the A299 heading for Faversham.”
Ed didn’t share his excitement. “Faversham?” he repeated, vaguely.
“Yes, Faversham. Now we know how they’re planning on getting out of the country.”
“We do?” Ed asked, still mystified. As far as he was aware, Faversham didn’t rank highly as a gateway to the world.
“The problem for us was that we didn’t know what they planned to do if they got their hands on the diamonds: lay low until it had all blown over, or somehow get out of the country. Whatever they’d been planning was effectively screwed the moment your resourceful friend destroyed their van.”
“I suppose so,” Ed agreed.
“If they’re going to Faversham, it means they intend stealing a boat.”
“Yes, I see,” Ed said, not seeing at all. He wasn’t sure what Faversham was known for, but he was as sure as hell that it wasn’t for being a port.
“It lies near a tributary of the River Swale,” Anson continued, evidently sensing Ed’s confusion. “They can nick a boat without encountering too many of the problems they would face in a harbour.”