by Adam Carter
“Your man Jeremiah picked a creepy location.”
“I’ve been called worse,” a male voice said.
Hope stumbled as he turned around. The tall figure of gentlemanly appearance stood barely a metre from him, wearing a long coat and leaning upon a cane. His face was stern, and while his lips were being tugged into a smile it was the eyes which denoted malevolence. They were old eyes: they had seen a lot of pain. Hope recalled the last time he had looked into those eyes and had almost let the man walk free. He did not understand it then and did not understand it now, but there was something about Jeremiah which wasn’t normal.
“You wanted to meet,” Hope said, “so here we are. Where’s the girl?”
A face poked out from behind Jeremiah and Hope felt relief wash through him.
“What’s going on?” Lin asked.
“That depends whose side you’re on,” Jeremiah said testily.
“All right, maybe I deserved that,” Lin replied, “but I told Sanders you didn’t go around killing girls.”
“We know what’s happened up to the point you took Sam back,” Hope said. “You’re in over your head now aren’t you?”
Jeremiah glanced his way, looking over the two of them as though they were both his enemies, but each a necessity for his mission. “This goes a lot deeper than I expected,” Jeremiah explained. “I thought it was simply a well-planned kidnap attempt. I thought Sam was just being targeted for ransom.”
“You’re saying she isn’t?” Hope asked.
“Sam, tell Detective Inspector Hope about your grandmother.”
“Grandma?” Sam still seemed afraid, but Hope noted she looked more at ease the closer she stayed to Jeremiah. He was starting to think it might not have been such a bad idea for Jeremiah to have done all he had, although was not about to admit that to him. “Grandma had a lot of friends. When she died, the friends went away.”
“Went away?” Hope asked.
“Sam’s grandmother,” Jeremiah explained, “owned a lot of property.”
“I know. We spoke to Sam’s parents. The property was sold off for half a million.”
“Do you know why she had so much property?”
“Because she was good at investing?”
Jeremiah’s tight smile made Hope feel like a dog who had just leaped through a hoop of fire.
“They weren’t empty,” Jeremiah said. “She hired a man named Yale to deal with the financial side of things, to make it look like she was investing her money.”
“They weren’t empty?” Hope asked. “Who was living in them then?”
“No one. Lin, your old DI is dense.”
Hope narrowed his eyes. He knew when he was being baited, and wished Jeremiah would just get on with telling him whatever it was he wanted to tell him.
“Sam’s grandmother was running a series of brothels,” Jeremiah explained. “She was never caught, never arrested. Two of her properties have been raided in the past, but her name was never linked to them. They needed her name entirely out of it because she was the actual owner.”
“Who did?” Lin asked.
“I knew it,” Hope said. “This is bigger than we thought isn’t it? This is some crime cartel. When the old woman died, legal ownership of the properties went to her son, because she wouldn’t have made a will leaving the houses to any of her criminal colleagues. If the will was ever pulled in as evidence against her she needed it to back up her cover story.”
“Maybe not so dense after all,” Jeremiah said.
“So she died,” Hope said, “and the houses were sold, the money going to her son. What happened to the girls using the houses?”
“Moved around to other locations, it seems. Grandma Dickson wasn’t the brains behind it all, not exclusively anyway. From what I can figure out, she didn’t have anything to do with the day-to-day activities. She just owned the properties and raked in the money the cartel paid her.”
“Right,” said Hope. “So where’s Sam fit into all this? If it wasn’t kidnapping for ransom, what was it?”
“Oh, it was kidnap for ransom all right. But they didn’t just want the money. They would have taken that, and then asked for more.”
“But the Dicksons don’t have any more.”
“They do. They just don’t know it. I have no idea why, but these people want Grandma’s ashes.”
Hope was certain he had heard that wrong. “You have to be kidding.”
“These people are villains,” Jeremiah said, “but they’re not wacko. Whatever they want her ashes for, it has to be something important.”
“You can’t even get DNA from someone’s ashes.”
“Never said it made sense.”
“Why not just burgle the house then?” Hope asked. “They could have stolen the ashes along with the TV and no one would have known what they were after.”
“They tried that. They didn’t find what they were looking for, so maybe the ashes weren’t kept on the mantelpiece.” He looked down to Sam. “You’ve been strong, girl. You want to go with the DI for now so I can get on with busting this thing wide open?”
“Hold on a moment,” Hope said. “The only reason you called us was to give Sam back?”
“You don’t want her back?”
“I don’t want you running off on your own, kicking people around.”
“I like being on my own, and I like kicking people around. It’s relaxing.”
“Lin, tell him.”
Lin looked more than a little resigned, and Hope wondered how many other officers she had to work with who had this attitude. “He’s right, Jeremiah. All you’ve managed to accomplish on your own is taking down the frontmen. The people you’re after are wedged in tight and they’re not going to give without a fight. You need backup.”
“I need my colleagues trusting my judgement.”
“I do trust your judgement, but you need to trust mine. I came to DI Hope because I wanted to help you, not because Sanders wanted me to bring you down. I trust you, Jeremiah: I always have done. But this thing is bigger than you, and if you get yourself killed who’s going to look after Sam?”
She was good, Hope had to admit. She clearly knew this man better than anyone and he could see she was getting through to him. The one thing Jeremiah wanted out of all of this was Samantha to be safe, and for that Hope could not fault the man. There were so many other things for which to fault him, it seemed only fair to give him credit where he could.
“Fine,” Jeremiah said, more than a little testily. “But Sam needs to be in a secure location. And I’m not leaving her with just any officer. If you two won’t take her off my hands for a while, I’m going to have to take her back to Sanders.”
“Good idea,” Lin said. “Where shall we meet you?”
“Oh, we’re not letting him out of our sight,” said Hope. “Now that we have you here, I’m keeping you.”
“And how do you plan on keeping me with you?” Jeremiah asked with a chuckle. His smile vanished when he heard the distinctive click of handcuffs. He raised his arm to find Hope had cuffed the two of them together. “Oh dear.”
“Where you go,” Hope told him, “I go.”
“You really didn’t want to do that.”
“If you’re so good, Jeremiah, break them.”
“Keys.”
Both men looked to Lin, who was holding out her hand.
“Car keys,” she repeated, and Jeremiah fished a set from his pocket. Lin did not look pleased. “You two go have some boy time or something. I’ll take Sam back to Sanders and meet you somewhere. Where are we meeting?”
Jeremiah’s face had darkened and Hope oddly heard thunder rumbling outside. “There’s an office block on Harlo Street. Floor twelve is owned by the people we’re after. We’ll meet you there.”
“Floor twelve,” Lin repeated as she took Sam gently by the arm. “Come on, honey. Let’s get you somewhere safe.”
Sam cast a final, desperate glance towards Jeremiah, whose fac
e softened enough to offer her a reassuring nod. Hope did not like Jeremiah, did not like him at all in fact, but he cared for the welfare of the girl and that was really all that mattered.
“All right,” Hope said, moving back to his car. “Get in.”
“I’ll drive.”
“Like hell you will.”
Jeremiah held up an arm. “You cuffed me on the wrong wrist then.”
Hope realised he was right, but there was no way he was letting Jeremiah drive his car. “I’ll manage.”
“You’ll manage. But I’ll be bent over. My arm will be pretty much in your lap.”
“I’ll manage,” Hope repeated sternly. But he wished he had thought through the cuffing a little better.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Lin was waiting for them when they pulled up before the office building. There was no sign of Sam, so Hope assumed Lin had somehow made it to her DCI and back already. He had no idea where Operation WetFish was based – it was something his research had never been able to uncover – but unless they were here, there and everywhere he could not see how she had been so speedy. Unless her DCI really didn’t trust any of them and was himself hanging around in a car somewhere.
“What took you so long?” she asked.
“No need to be facetious, Sue.”
“Who’s being facetious?”
“Let’s just get on with this shall we?” Jeremiah asked. “Since there’s only the three of us we may as well go in together. We can’t really bluff our way in, since no one should be entering this building this close to midnight. It’s not a twenty-four hour building so there won’t be any security here, which is a plus.”
“I take it we’re not using the lift,” Hope said. “Twelve floors is going to be fun.”
Jeremiah looked at him oddly. “You’re complaining about twelve flights of stairs? How do you usually catch criminals? Ask them nicely to pop down the station so you can slap some cuffs on them?”
“Speaking of which,” Lin said, “I’m glad you got over that silliness with the handcuffs. If we’re going to get these guy we’re going to need to work together.”
“Handcuffs?” Hope asked, but Jeremiah cleared his throat loudly and started outlying his plan. Lin had meant something, but Hope could not fathom what she was talking about. Yet the more he thought about it, the more he was remembering something. Something to do with handcuffs. Whatever it was, he was sure it did not matter, and he focused on what Jeremiah was saying. Lin was right: they needed to work together on this.
Entering the building did not prove difficult. Jeremiah got the two of them to keep an eye out; then did something neither of them saw and the door was suddenly open. Hope was finding the man stranger and stranger the more time he spent with him, but if he could speed things along like that he wasn’t going to complain. The door opened to a lobby, which was empty, and it was as they started on the stairs that Hope asked, “How much backup do we have coming?”
“Backup?” Jeremiah asked. “I thought you two were my backup?”
Hope stopped walking. “You mean it’s just us? Are you nuts?”
Ahead of them, Lin had also stopped, and was frowning in horror at them both. “I thought you’d arranged reinforcements, Jon.”
“I thought you had.”
“We don’t need any reinforcements,” Jeremiah said in distaste. “Honestly, people, it’s like you need help tying your shoes.”
“Laces,” Hope said. “You don’t tie your shoes, you tie your laces.”
“Is there a point to such pedantry?”
“Is there anyone who actually uses the word pedantry?”
Jeremiah shot him a look of stone.
“My point,” Hope said, “is that even with the easiest tasks, one little mistake can trip you up. And when you’re dealing with a floor filled with criminals one little mistake could get you killed.”
“There is no way that’s what you meant,” Jeremiah said. “You’ve just made that up because you didn’t think I’d call you a pedant.”
“Sue, how do you put up with this guy?”
“At times like these, Jon, I’m wondering why I’m on this stairwell with either of you. Jeremiah,” she said seriously, “what are we doing here? We can’t take on these people by ourselves.”
“I was quite happily going to take them on by myself before the two of you insisted on tagging along. I could have had the entire thing sown up by now and be handing Samantha back to her parents.”
“Are you even armed?” Hope asked.
“No,” Jeremiah said, holding up his hands, palms out. He clenched his fists. “But now I am.”
Hope blinked, knowing one of them had gone insane in the last few minutes and not quite certain which it was. “Hold on, I’m calling this in.”
Jeremiah seemed genuinely impatient. “Fine. The two of you stay here and wait for someone to bring you some mittens. I’ll be upstairs beating in some heads.”
“That’s all this is to you, isn’t it?” Hope asked. “An exercise in assaulting people. Because if you hit enough people someone sooner or later is going to tell you what you want to know.”
“I am not a violent man, Detective Inspector Hope. But I’m not a pacifist either. The answers to all our problems lie twelve floors up. I’m going up. You can either come with me, or stay here and wait for your uniform and their loud sirens. Personally I would prefer that, but you do whatever you like.”
“This is stupid,” Hope said, but Jeremiah was already several steps ahead and turning the corner for the next flight of stairs. “Sue, tell him.”
But Detective Lin looked resigned and he could tell she had suffered this often enough to know how it always played out. With a silent shrug she followed him up the stairs.
Knowing he could not abandon either of them, Hope called in his position, said he needed immediate backup, and continued upwards.
It did not take long to walk twelve flights of stairs. Hope was probably not as fit as he believed, for he was winded and his legs were aching with the effort. He knew it would pass in a couple of minutes and could see Lin was suffering similarly. Annoyingly, Jeremiah did not appear to have even noticed he wasn’t standing on an escalator. The three of them had stopped at a wooden door sealed by an electronic reader. None of them had a card and, despite all his bizarre wizardry, he could not believe even Jeremiah could turn his fingers into magic security passes.
“Keep an eye on the stairs,” Jeremiah said.
“No.”
“Beg pardon?”
“I want to see what you do,” Hope said. “You got us through the front door of the building, and I want to see what you did. Maybe I can pick up a thing or two from the mighty Lone Ranger.”
“Lin, tell him.”
Lin held up her hands. “I’m staying out of this. God didn’t give me the right equipment to pee highest up the wall, so you two go for it.”
It was not quite what Hope had wanted from her, but at least she hadn’t immediately sided with her colleague.
Jeremiah looked more annoyed than angry, and Hope could tell he was never a man who liked to share anything. “Fine,” he said testily. “Then we go the silly way.”
Hope was about to ask what he meant when Jeremiah surprised him by knocking on the door.
“Pizza!”
Hope felt his stomach drop. “You have to be kidding me.”
Shouts came from the other side of the door and Jeremiah pushed his two colleagues back into the stairwell. Neither offered any complaint and raced to the thirteenth floor. Hope took his eyes from Jeremiah for a single moment, and when he looked again the man simply was no longer there. He had to have gone down to the eleventh level, it was the only thing which made sense, yet Hope knew at once the man had gained what he wanted. Jeremiah had intended to fight this fight alone, and now it seemed no one could do anything to stop him.
“That man of yours,” Hope hissed aside to Lin as the two of them crouched by the railing, “is going to be th
e death of us.”
“He’s not my man,” she replied a little more savagely than she needed to.
The door opened then and someone poked his face out. He looked confused, as though he had expected either the police or a pizza guy. Opening the door fully, he stepped out and peered first down and then up the stairs, but could see no one. Hope knew Jeremiah was about to strike and let the man have his moment. He wanted to see what Jeremiah could do and now was a good time to ...
Something dropped from the ceiling and the hood collapsed with a mild shriek. Hope jumped, for even he had not expected for Jeremiah to have been pressed to the ceiling. Why the hood had not noticed him there was strange, but Hope had learned long ago not to question bizarre things and simply to accept them and move on. The facts of the matter were that Jeremiah had engaged the enemy and needed help.
With the grace of a panther, Jeremiah sprang through the door and roared a primal scream which chilled Hope to his marrow. On his way through, he also kicked the door closed.
“That ...” Hope and Lin raced back to the door, but there was nothing they could do to budge it. Hope pounded upon the barrier. He could hear shouts on the other side, screams in fact, and knew Jeremiah was doing what Jeremiah did best. “Your friend has a lot of trust issues, Sue.”
“This guy’s out,” Lin said, setting the captured hood to one side. “Jon, we need to get through that door.”
“Then we’re back to where we were before.”
“Maybe not.” Lin held up a pass and Hope realised she had been doing more than just checking the pulse of the downed goon. She pressed the key to the lock and Hope pushed the door, wishing he had some kind of weapon.
The door opened to a scene of chaos. The entire floor was set out like an office, although the desks did not appear to have much use and none of them were personalised with photographs or mugs. It was a front, Hope knew. The entire floor was rented by bad people who met here to discuss bad things. There were several bodies upon the floor before him, and he could not see how Jeremiah had managed to plough so easily through the squad of goons who had congregated at the door.