by Jaime Raven
I learned that Saunders was shot three times when he stepped out of a car in front of his house.
He was returning home from another hellish day during which he’d given five interviews and fronted two press conferences at the Yard.
It was believed he was the victim of a sniper who targeted him with a long-range rifle.
The search for the assassin was centred on the nearby Sky Reach Hotel on Cromwell Road. It towered above the area, and from the upper floors there was a clear view of the Commissioner’s house.
‘Mr Saunders leaves a wife and two teenage daughters,’ the newsreader said. ‘It’s understood they moved out of the house early this morning and are staying at their other property in Sussex. They have been informed.’
My heart ached for his wife and kids and I could only imagine what a terrible shock it was for them. It put things in perspective for me. The loss of an unborn baby couldn’t possible compare with the loss of a husband and father. Could it?
I was familiar with the Sky Reach Hotel, a contemporary landmark in that part of the capital. I’d had no idea that the Commissioner lived in its shadow and I’d never heard of Appleton Mews.
A picture of the house, which had a blue door, appeared on the screen and the newsreader pointed out that the family owned it and it wasn’t a grace-and-favour property that went with the Commissioner’s job.
The Assistant Commissioner, a middle-aged woman named Geena Donaldson, read out a statement beneath the revolving sign outside Scotland Yard.
She confirmed that the Commissioner had died at the scene and it was believed he was murdered by the same woman who had carried out the other killings during the past week.
‘This is a sad day for the Metropolitan police and for London,’ she said. ‘John Saunders was a fine man and an excellent Commissioner.’ She had to pause there because her voice broke and it appeared that she might lose it.
But after clearing her throat, she went on, ‘I spoke to his wife Janet by phone a few minutes ago and I’ve promised her that we will track down her husband’s killer. It’s a promise I intend to keep, no matter how long it takes.’
She ended the statement by revealing that the Prime Minster would be chairing a meeting of the government’s emergency committee, COBRA, the following morning.
COBRA, an acronym for Cabinet Office Briefing Room A, was a mechanism whereby ministers, senior police officers and security officials could meet in response to major events and emergencies such as terrorist attacks.
It was obviously a sensible move and a necessary development. And it would take the hunt for those responsible to a whole new level.
But I feared it would not be enough to stop the murder spree. Or to snare the wicked witch with the deadly armoury and the heart of stone.
52
Rosa
She was in a taxi on her way to Alice’s apartment when her phone rang. It was Roy Slack, and he slurred his words as he spoke, which made her wonder if he’d been drinking.
‘I want to congratulate you, Rosa,’ he said. ‘You’ve surpassed my expectations.’
‘I’m glad you think so,’ she replied.
‘It’s all over the news. We’ve created chaos, and every copper in London is shedding a tear. This is exactly what I was hoping for when I added his name to the mix. You did well considering how little time you had.’
‘Most jobs don’t require that much planning,’ she said. ‘Locations can be studied via the web and people are much easier to track with new technology. Plus, every target steps into the line of fire sooner or later.’
‘You’re being modest,’ Slack said. ‘You pulled off a blinder and I’ve already been in touch with Carlos Cruz to tell him that I think you’re a fucking legend.’
Now she was certain he was drunk and she was keen for the conversation to end.
‘Do you want me to continue?’ she asked him.
‘I do indeed,’ he said. ‘I’m having too much fun to stop now. But I’m going to make it easier for you because it’ll be harder from today to get to those people on the list. So you have my blessing to kill any copper at random, plain clothes or in uniform. I want a few more of the bastards taken out so that means you staying in London into next week.’
It was the kind of thing that the cartel bosses in Mexico would say. And that included Carlos Cruz. Killing gave them a buzz, especially when it was carried out as an act of vengeance.
It occurred to Rosa that Roy Slack would have been right at home in Tijuana or Acapulco. He had exactly what it took to survive and prosper. He was cruel and sadistic, and quite mad. He also had a huge sense of entitlement.
‘And I want you to know that you’re well on course to earn yourself that bonus I mentioned,’ he said. ‘Carlos told me he’s paying you half a million dollars. Well, I’ll give you the same amount if you carry on delivering. How does that sound?’
‘Terrific,’ she said, and resisted the urge to ask him how much he was paying Carlos for her services.
‘Well, just make sure they don’t get their hands on you,’ he said. ‘So far they haven’t got a fucking clue who you are and I want it to stay that way. OK?’
‘OK,’ she said.
She put the phone back in her bag and allowed herself a smile. So her reward for completing the assignment was now going to be a cool million. And she didn’t even have to pre-plan the hits. She could go up to any cop in the street and blow his or her brains out. What could be simpler?
Her thoughts turned to what to do with the money – and whether she should use it to embark on a new chapter in her life. One that wasn’t just about death and destruction and a series of meaningless one-night stands.
Alice had opened her eyes and mind to the possibility of something better and more fulfilling. But it would mean leaving Mexico and turning her back on everything she knew. The Slayer would cease to exist and she would have to re-invent herself.
It wouldn’t be easy, of course. And it would entail a huge amount of risk. But there was no reason it couldn’t be done by developing a careful exit plan. She knew where to go to get fake documents – everything from visas to birth certificates. She could obtain all the paperwork she needed to set herself up here in London.
She would open new bank accounts to move her savings. Take out new credit cards. Ensure she didn’t leave a trail for others to follow. She would erase all trace of The Slayer and become someone who was so very, very different.
When the elevator door opened, Alice was standing there, wearing a big, bright smile and a knock-out black dress that revealed more of her body than it covered up.
She flew straight into Rosa’s arms and gave her a long, passionate kiss on the lips.
‘That was because I missed you so much today,’ Alice said, stepping back. ‘And I was really worried that you wouldn’t be able to make it tonight.’
Alice took Rosa’s hand and led her along the corridor to her apartment.
‘You look stunning,’ Rosa said. ‘That’s such a beautiful dress.’
‘Not as beautiful as you are,’ Alice replied.
Once inside the apartment, Rosa shed her coat and followed Alice into the kitchen. There was a tray of snack food on the breakfast bar and a bottle of champagne in an ice bucket.
‘I wasn’t sure you’d have had time to eat,’ Alice said. ‘And since you have tomorrow off I was hoping you’d drink with me tonight.’
‘Of course I will,’ she said, smiling. ‘I don’t want to be as sober as a judge on my first Saturday night in London.’
They both laughed and Alice poured two glasses of champagne. As she handed one to Rosa, she said, ‘How are you feeling now? Is your shoulder still painful?’
Rosa shook her head. ‘I’m almost as good as new and that’s thanks to what you did to me with your fingers last night.’
‘Well, I was glad to be of service,’ Alice said. ‘Now come into the lounge. I’ve got a surprise for you.’
Rosa took a sip of champagne
and it felt good. She was breaking her own rule about never drinking alcohol on an assignment, but what the hell? She put it down to the Alice Green effect and it raised a smile.
The first thing Rosa noticed when she entered the lounge was that the TV was on and showing a photo of the man she had murdered just under three hours ago.
She felt her body stiffen and a rush of heat burned in her chest.
‘I bought you a little gift,’ Alice said. ‘I saw it in Harrods and I just couldn’t resist it.’
Rosa wrenched her eyes away from the screen to where Alice stood next to the coffee table. She’d picked up a small blue box with a red ribbon around it.
She held it towards Rosa and said, ‘I hope you like it.’
Rosa was taken aback. No one other than her parents had ever given her a present.
‘You shouldn’t have,’ she said as she stepped forward.
Alice shrugged. ‘Why ever not? I’m the happiest I’ve been in years and that’s thanks to you.’
Rosa took the box and gently removed the ribbon. She already knew that what was inside would have been expensive. From what she’d heard nothing sold in Harrods was cheap.
She gasped involuntarily when she saw what Alice had bought her. It was an exquisite chain friendship bracelet with a silver bar studded with tiny diamonds and chains twisted to create the illusion of rope.
‘It’s by Monica Vinader,’ Alice said. ‘She’s my all-time favourite jewellery designer.’
Rosa was speechless, but her heart was pounding. Once again Alice had surprised her with a wonderful gesture of affection and generosity.
‘This is so lovely,’ she said, finding her voice. ‘It must have cost a small fortune.’
‘Not nearly as much as you might think,’ Alice said. ‘But what I paid for it isn’t important. I just hope that when you wear it you’ll think of me.’
Rosa felt a wave of emotion that almost reduced her to tears. She gave the bracelet to Alice and asked her to put it on her wrist.
‘I’m going to wear it every second of every day from now on,’ she said. ‘So that means I’ll always be thinking about you.’
They made love there and then on the sofa, and even the sound from the TV did not lessen the intensity of the experience for Rosa. She lost herself in the moment and it seemed as if Alice did too.
It was as though they had been made for each other. The perfect fit. Two women who’d been destined to be together. Sharing something that was real and special and sublime.
Rosa knew now that she was going to do whatever it took to keep this perfect woman in her life.
She would lie and cheat and kill anyone who stood in her way.
It was time to accept that her life had changed because against all the odds she had fallen in love.
After making love they showered together and then drank more champagne.
It was going to Rosa’s head but she didn’t care. She was feeling better and happier than she’d felt in a long time.
There was an awkward moment when Alice drew her attention to the TV and said, ‘Have you seen this? It’s terrible. Another policeman has been murdered. The top guy this time. They say it’s that bitch who rides the motorbike and that she’s being paid to do it.’
‘I heard about it just before I left the hotel,’ Rosa said. ‘I didn’t realise that this was such a violent city. It’s like home from home.’
‘I think we should turn the television off so it doesn’t dampen our mood,’ Alice said.
Rosa nodded. ‘That’s a good idea.’
Alice replaced the rolling news bulletin with soft background music.
Rosa immediately relaxed again, and the rest of the evening was pure bliss. They drew up a list of the places they would visit the following day, including Buckingham Palace, Oxford Street and Trafalgar Square.
And then they went to bed early so that they could make love again.
Before she fell asleep, Rosa told herself that she had made the right call. This would be her last assignment as a contract killer. It was time The Slayer went into retirement and she embarked on a new and more rewarding life.
53
Slack
He was well and truly pissed. During the course of the evening he’d put away half a bottle of Glenfiddich and three glasses of one of his finest wines.
It was enough to make his doctor have a seizure because of the strong links between alcohol abuse and pancreatic cancer.
But what better way to celebrate the death of the Met’s top dog? The biggest cunt of them all. The leader of the pack. The man responsible for setting up the organised crime task force.
On the day it began operating, John Saunders said, ‘The men who run these gangs are revolting creatures who prey on the weaknesses of others. They’re an ugly stain on this great city of ours and the job of this task force is to put them where they belong – behind bars.’
It was well past midnight now and the BBC were showing the last interview the man gave before setting off on his date with destiny.
The prick talked about the hunt for the female assassin on the motorbike, and he offered his condolences to the officer shot dead on Balham High Road. He even said that it was believed she was killing coppers on behalf of a gangster with a grudge against the Met.
Slack raised his glass of Scotch at the TV and said, ‘You were right about that, mate.’
The BBC then switched to an exterior shot of the Commissioner’s house and the camera swung up to show the hotel that overlooked it. The newsreader said that it was thought the sniper had fired from one of the rooms on an upper floor.
The location of the hotel had been a stroke of luck. Rosa had done well to seize on it. She’d shown great initiative, and he was full of admiration for the way she’d bounced back so spectacularly after the cock-up the night before in Balham.
It hadn’t been his intention to target the Commissioner. But it had struck him as a good idea after the bastard kept insisting that the task force would carry on with its operations. It was like saying you can kill as many of us as you want to but we will never let you win.
And that had been a big mistake on his part because it had seemed to Slack like a challenge – one that he’d felt compelled to respond to.
He chugged back more Scotch and let out an enormous burp. At that moment his landline rang for the umpteenth time. He knew it would be one of his people, calling to check that he was aware of what had happened or to ask him if he’d had anything to do with it.
The first few calls he had answered, but now he was no longer bothering to because talking to the lads took up too much time. He wanted some peace and quite so that he could wallow in the success of his mission.
After all, there was nothing more satisfying than revenge. The thought of how much pain he was inflicting on the Old Bill filled him with a warm glow. This was Retribution with a capital R. Payback with a capital P.
His old man would have been proud of him. And so would Julie. And he was sure that his only son Terry would have been lapping it up if the fuckers hadn’t gunned him down.
It was one in the morning when he finally sloped off to bed. He knew he’d sleep like a log, and not just because he was drunk.
For the first time in ages he was happy rather than sad. And he actually felt glad to be alive because he now knew that he was going to even the score with the Met – and in doing so fulfil his dying wish.
PART THREE
54
Laura
Sunday dawned cold and bright. From the window of Aidan’s room it looked like the start of a summer’s day. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky, and it was difficult to believe that Christmas was fast approaching. And what a wretched Christmas it was going to be.
Fortunately I’d managed to sleep for a couple of hours sitting up in the chair. My troubled thoughts tried to keep me awake, but they were no match for the wave of sheer exhaustion that eventually pulled me under.
I had time to go to the loo and
rinse my face before Aidan surfaced. He looked much better. Some colour had returned to his cheeks and he seemed more alert. But at the same time he was clearly feeling sorry for himself. It made me glad that I hadn’t yet told him about the miscarriage.
I called his parents who were staying in a nearby Premier Inn and got him to talk to them. He asked them to bring him some chocolate when they came to visit and it made me smile. It was a sure sign that he was on the mend.
I didn’t break the news to him about the murder of the Commissioner until the nurse had changed his dressing and the doctor had examined his wound.
The news shocked him, of course, and he asked me lots of questions, most of which I couldn’t answer.
‘It’s why I stayed here all night again,’ I said. ‘I just couldn’t bring myself to leave you.’
I told him about going to the house and the extent of the damage.
‘I’ll pop back today to see what’s changed,’ I said. ‘But I intend to bed down at mum’s, at least until you’re discharged.’
I phoned my mother while Aidan drank a cup of tea and ate a biscuit. The latest murder had upset her deeply and she began to sob.
‘I know what his poor family is going through,’ she said. ‘We went through it ourselves after your father was killed.’
My brain took me back to the weeks and months after Dad died and I remembered what a nightmare it was. The grief and pain and anger that made it so hard to function.
‘I’m so scared, Laura,’ my mother said. ‘For myself, for you, for everyone. Surely the police with all their people and resources should be able to stop it.’
I told her that I was confident it wouldn’t be long now before we caught the assassin and the creature who was paying her to wreak havoc. But it was a lie. I knew we weren’t making any progress and we wouldn’t unless we found that chink in Roy Slack’s armour.
And it was going to be just as difficult to find the assassin. There were thousands of motorcycle riders in London, most of them wearing leathers and helmets. If we started flagging them down randomly we’d just cause major chaos.