The Rebel

by Jaime Raven

  It was why that particular hotel had been chosen. It needed to be within walking distance of the pub.

  ‘What about the second text message?’ Slack said. ‘Did it get sent?’

  ‘It did. I had confirmation a few minutes ago.’

  The second message had been Danny’s idea. He’d come up with it late last night as a way of raising the fear factor even before the killings began. It was sent to those people close to the detectives whose phone numbers they’d been able to obtain.

  ‘Just so you know, boss, I’ve not had a chance to talk to Jack about the gear,’ Danny said.

  ‘Don’t worry. He’s taken delivery of everything and it’s all out the back.’

  Jack Pickering was the pub landlord and he worked for Slack who owned the building. There was a yard at the rear with a lock-up garage that the firm made extensive use of. It was the perfect place to store the stuff that Rosa Lopez needed to do her job.

  After hanging up, Slack sipped at his beer and looked out the window. The evening rush hour was over, but in this part of Lambeth the roads were still busy.

  It had taken them almost an hour to get here from Dulwich – a distance of about four miles. On the way he’d told Mike to drive past the house where Terry Malone had lived and died.

  It had made him feel sad and yet pleased with himself at the same time. Sad because of what had happened to Terry and pleased because he’d been able to avenge his untimely death.

  He didn’t give a toss about that gun-toting copper or his family. The bastard determined his own fate when he shot a defenceless Terry in cold blood.

  Just six months ago Slack wouldn’t have cared. He’d never met Terry and had no idea that he’d worked for the Romanians in North London before the gang’s leaders were snared by the task force.

  But then, out of the blue, he got a call from an old girlfriend who was in Guy’s Hospital having suffered a severe stroke.

  Chloe Malone had begged him to visit her, saying she had something important to tell him. So he’d gone along out of curiosity and she’d revealed that just after they’d split up twenty-six years ago she’d discovered she was pregnant. Eight months later she gave birth to a boy.

  ‘He’s your son, Roy,’ she’d told him. ‘I want you to know now because there have been serious complications and I might have only days to live. And Terry needs someone to look out for him, otherwise he’ll end up dead or in jail.’

  She’d gone on to say that she didn’t tell him about the baby because their relationship had ended badly after he decided to dump her for another woman.

  ‘It would never have worked out,’ she’d said. ‘You would have wanted the baby but not me. I was sure that you would have made my life a misery or even taken steps to get rid of me.’

  To say that he’d been shocked would have been a gross understatement. The revelation had shaken him to the core. He was angry with her even though he knew that what she’d said was true.

  Their affair had lasted five months. It was fun but he’d never loved her and when someone better came along he dropped her like a hot brick.

  Before he left the hospital she gave him a letter she’d written to Terry in which she disclosed that Slack was his father.

  ‘I’m not going to tell him before I die,’ she’d said. ‘That wouldn’t be fair, if you decide that you want nothing to do with him. But if you do want to be part of his life then show him the letter.’

  Three days later she passed away and for weeks afterwards he wasn’t sure what to do or whether or not to even believe her.

  So he made enquiries, found out that Terry was looking for work, and got the lads to recruit him onto the firm. Then he took steps to secretly obtain samples of his DNA, which confirmed what Chloe had said.

  That was when it really hit home that he had a son. The effect on him was profound. Julie had never been able to conceive and he had always wanted a child.

  So he came to a decision. He would promote the lad within the firm and get to know him. And then when he felt the time was right he would drop the bombshell and show him Chloe’s letter.

  After that he would groom Terry to be his successor. The idea pleased and excited him, and suddenly he had a purpose in life other than making money.

  But then something happened that changed everything and that was why he confided in Terry that night in the club.

  He gave him the letter from his mother and told him that he wanted him to eventually take charge of the firm. And he told him why his plan had been brought forward.

  Naturally the lad reacted as though he’d received a jolt of electricity. But Slack had assured him that he had what it took and that it was meant to be.

  ‘So go home and think about it, son,’ he’d said. ‘Your mother asked me to look out for you and that’s exactly what I plan to do. You and my grandchild will have a bright and prosperous future. And you’ll want for nothing.’

  They were the last words he said to Terry. Hours later the lad was dead.

  Rosa Lopez was not what he was expecting. The eyes of everyone in the saloon bar were drawn towards her as she came in ahead of Danny who held the door open for her.

  Slack felt the urge to whistle as she walked towards where he was sitting in an alcove next to the window.

  She was disarmingly attractive, with thick, lustrous black hair and naturally olive skin. Her face was smooth and narrow, and she moved with the sinewy grace of a catwalk model.

  She had on a smart leather jacket with a fleece lining that looked brand new and probably was. It was open at the front and underneath she was wearing torn jeans and a tight brown sweater.

  She was slim but endowed in all the right places, and it struck him that she was so unlike any of the contract killers he had ever come across.

  Rosa Lopez was stunning, and he reckoned she probably stood out even among the beautiful sicarias in Latin America. He found it strange that someone so young and beautiful could be a sadistic killer. He wondered if she had been born a psychopath or whether events in her life had turned her into one.

  As she approached, he held out his hand and introduced himself. She smiled and it lit up her face, but there was something unconvincing about it.

  ‘Welcome to London,’ he said. ‘I’ve heard a lot about you.’

  ‘Not too much I hope,’ she replied.

  She spoke perfect English with only the faintest trace of an accent.

  ‘Please take a seat,’ he said. ‘Danny will get the drinks in.’

  ‘Just an orange juice for me,’ she said, sitting down opposite him without removing her coat. ‘I never touch alcohol when I’m on an assignment.’

  ‘Very sensible of you,’ Slack said.

  As Danny went off to the bar, Slack studied the woman who had come all the way from Mexico. Her eyes were the colour of dark chocolate and there was no emotion in them. In fact they quite unnerved him.

  ‘How was the journey?’ he asked.

  ‘Very pleasant. But then it usually is when one travels first class.’

  ‘And is the hotel to your liking?’

  She shrugged. ‘Not really. It’s cheap and cheerful, but that’s OK because I understand it was chosen for its location. And anyway I’m not here on vacation.’

  ‘That’s true enough,’ Slack said. ‘And can I take it that your boss made you aware of how unusual this job is?’

  ‘It’s not that unusual, Mr Slack. I’ve taken out plenty of police officers over the years. Once I killed three in a single day and in different locations. I’m not in the least bit intimidated by the scale of this assignment.’

  Slack was impressed. He could see now why Carlos Cruz had sent her and why she was so highly rated. She had the one essential attribute of all successful contract killers; she was not troubled by the conventional standards of morality.

  Danny came back to the table with their drinks and Slack was struck by a jarring thought. To the other customers they no doubt looked like normal people, friends e
njoying an evening out. But in reality they were the opposite of normal. Between them they had carried out scores of abhorrent crimes and were planning to commit many more.

  Rosa suggested they steer clear of small talk and get straight down to business. So Slack told her about the organised crime task force and the text messages that had been sent to the detectives and their immediate family members.

  Rosa raised her brow. ‘And do you really think that killing some detectives will stop the rest of them coming after you?’

  He grinned. ‘Not at all. But that’s not why I’m doing it. This is just the opening salvo in a war I’ve declared against London’s police. I want to start by making them think it’s just about the task force. That’ll confuse and unsettle them before the real fun begins.’

  At this point he took a mobile phone and a buff-coloured envelope from his pocket and handed them to her.

  ‘It’s an unregistered phone and you can use it to contact me and Danny,’ he said. ‘Our numbers have been programmed in and we have your number. The envelope contains the list of targets. Names, addresses and contact details of the detectives and their loved ones. There’s also a link to a website on which we’ve uploaded photographs of all the officers and many of the family members.’

  ‘Where did the information come from?’ Rosa asked.

  ‘There’s someone on the task force who’s working for us.’

  Rosa picked up the envelope, folded it and slipped it into the inside pocket of her jacket along with the phone.

  ‘The stuff you requested is in the lock-up garage at the rear of these premises,’ he said. ‘It’s in a secure position and you’ll be given a key to access it when you need to. When you’ve finished your drink we’ll show it to you. Now have you got any questions?’

  She drank some of her juice, then wet her upper lip with her tongue.

  ‘I’ve got two questions,’ she said. ‘I’d like to know how long you expect me to stay and how many people you want me to kill.’

  Slack leaned towards her. ‘Under the deal with your boss I have you for two weeks. I’d like you to carry out the hits at a rate of one a day, although I do appreciate that it might not be possible. And, if I’m not otherwise disposed, I might well ask Cruz to extend the contract. It all depends how much fun I’m having.’

  The garage behind the pub was set back from the road. Danny unlocked it and raised the door, and Slack and Rosa followed him inside.

  In front of them was a motorbike with leathers and a helmet on the seat. Saddlebags were attached either side of the seat.

  ‘We were told only that you wanted two wheels,’ Danny said. ‘Is this thing OK?’

  She looked it over and nodded. ‘It looks perfectly fine.’

  ‘Good. There’s a bunch of fake stick-on number plates in the left-side saddlebag. Change them as often as you need to avoid street traffic cameras.’

  On the table to the right of it there was an iPad, a takedown sniper rifle in an open briefcase, a pistol with silencer attached, a large knife, a garrotte with plastic handles, and five mobile phones.

  ‘These are all burner phones so you can dump them after you use them,’ Slack said. ‘It means you don’t have to use the phone I’ve already given you. The iPad has been set up so you’re ready to go online.’

  Rosa stepped forward and ran her hands over the weapons.

  ‘You’ve been very thorough,’ she said.

  ‘That’s because like you we’re pros,’ Slack told her.

  Danny then handed her the key to the garage. It was attached to a plastic keyring that enclosed a photo of the pub’s exterior and the words: Three Crowns, Vauxhall. They then stepped outside, and Rosa locked up.

  ‘Would you like another drink?’ Slack asked her.

  She shook her head. ‘No, thank you. I need to go back to the hotel to start planning. And since this is my first time in London I have to get my bearings.’

  ‘Well, if there’s anything else you need you only have to ask.’

  ‘There is something I need to know,’ she said. ‘Do you want to be the one who decides who I target and when? Or are you leaving that to me?’

  ‘That’s your call, Rosa,’ he said. ‘You have the names and plenty of information on all of them. The only thing I ask is that you don’t hang around.’

  ‘No problem,’ she said. ‘All being well I’ll start tomorrow.’

  15

  Laura

  ‘I can’t believe you weren’t going to tell me about this threat,’ Aidan said, and the words hissed through his teeth. ‘I had a right to know and so did your mum.’

  It was an hour since Aidan had opened up the message and still the atmosphere in our house was taut with tension.

  Aidan was angry as well as shocked and my mother was a bag of nerves. Her reaction was completely understandable because the same message had been sent to her mobile, which had been on silent mode in her handbag. She discovered it only after I asked her to check the phone.

  To make matters worse I’d received calls from two colleagues informing me that their family members had also received the message.

  ‘I didn’t want to worry you,’ I said lamely. ‘And the gaffer ordered us not to tell anyone about it.’

  ‘But I’m not anyone, Laura,’ Aidan said. ‘I’m your partner and I have a right to know if my life is being threatened.’

  ‘But we can’t be sure it’s not just some vile prank,’ I said. ‘We therefore have to be careful not to create unnecessary alarm.’

  ‘So you and your colleagues decided that the best course of action was to keep quiet and ignore it.’

  ‘No, not at all. It’s being looked into to determine whether it’s a credible threat.’

  ‘And while you do that you think it’s all right to leave us in the dark. Is that it?’

  I didn’t answer, just stood there in the middle of the kitchen, the breath trapped in my lungs.

  ‘Well, whoever is behind it obviously knew that you wouldn’t tell us,’ he went on. ‘And the fact that they have our private numbers suggests to me that this is not the work of some harmless prankster.’

  I couldn’t disagree with him on that point so I didn’t try.

  ‘I’m really sorry I didn’t tell you about it,’ I said, looking from Aidan to my mother who was still sitting at the table twirling a hanky between her fingers. ‘I wish now that I had.’

  ‘So what should we do?’ my mother said, her voice cracking with emotion. ‘Is it going to be safe for us to carry on as normal?’

  ‘Of course it is, Mum,’ I said. ‘Lots of people make threats and most times that’s all they turn out to be.’

  My father’s face pushed itself into my thoughts suddenly and I wished he was here with us now. He’d know how best to handle the situation, how to respond to the genuine fears being expressed by my mother and Aidan.

  It was difficult for me because I was just as worried as they were, and just as creeped out by what was happening.

  Aidan had already asked me who we thought was responsible and I’d told him we had no idea. Now he jumped to his own conclusion.

  ‘That man Roy Slack must be behind this,’ he said. ‘It stands to reason. The task force has made it known it intends to smash up his empire. So he’s resorting to desperate measures to stop it.’

  ‘We can’t be sure it’s him,’ I said.

  ‘Well, has he been arrested or even questioned? And if not, then why not?’

  I should have been able to reassure them that they had nothing to worry about but I couldn’t. Instead I was as anxious as they were and a knot of dread was growing in my stomach.

  I feared that this might well be the start of something bad … something that we wouldn’t be able to control.

  16

  Laura

  When the alarm went off I was already awake, and had been for most of the night.

  Aidan stirred and groaned beside me, and as per our morning routine neither of us moved much for ab
out five minutes.

  Then, without saying a word, I hauled myself out of bed and into the en suite. That was his cue to get up and go downstairs to make the teas.

  Under the hot shower I reflected on the previous evening and how awkward it had been.

  My mother had stayed until nine o’clock – well past her bedtime – and would probably have slept in the spare room if she’d had a change of clothes.

  The anonymous message had really upset her and she had convinced herself that she was about to become the victim of a crazed killer. Aidan had worked with me to try to allay her fears but she’d kept shaking her head and insisting that we couldn’t possibly know what was going to happen.

  And she was right, which was why the situation was so worrying.

  Aidan’s anger had gradually subsided during the course of the evening, and when he returned from taking Mum home, he opened a fresh bottle of wine, filled two glasses, and got me to sit next to him on the sofa.

  ‘Your mum’s not here now so it’s time to be brutally honest with me, Laura,’ he’d said. ‘I want to know how concerned we should be about this threat, given that your team are going after some of the city’s most powerful criminals.’

  So I’d told him what I honestly believed – that this was now a threat that had to be taken very seriously, and I was pretty sure my superiors would agree with me.

  We’d talked about it until after midnight, and I’d been wide awake when we’d finally climbed into bed.

  Aidan had dropped off fairly quickly, but for me it wasn’t so easy. I was too rattled and the adrenalin continued to pump through my veins at a rate of knots.

  So now I was tired as well as anxious, and that was no way to start a new day.

  Our mornings were always a rush so we didn’t have time for another conversation about the death threat. But Aidan made me promise to call or text him if there were any significant developments during the day.

  Before we parted we hugged each other and it was longer and tighter than usual.

  ‘Stay safe, sweetheart,’ he said, and his words sent a shudder along my spine.