“No way.” She shook her head. “I’m your wi … ex-wife. If PSD are looking into you, they’ll have my workstation and log-ins flagged. Everything I do will be watched, checked and verified. If I so much as sneeze in the office they’ll know about it. And if the Russians are as deep inside our systems as you say they are, they’ll know the second we do. I have no doubt they have their own flags set up.”
“Shit. I can’t go walking around the city looking for him, I’ll get spotted and nicked.”
“Then Jimmy was right.”
“How so?”
“You need to go in and straighten it out.”
“No way.”
“What other option is there?” She stood and began to pace, picking off points on her fingers as she talked. “You can’t be seen in public, you’ve got no resources to work with and the longer it takes you to get this resolved, the more chance there is of the Russians finding Harrison and getting away. You want justice for your brother’s murder? Do it the right way.”
I stared at the floor. She had a point, or several if I was being honest, but I didn’t like it. Handing myself over to PSD just wasn’t in my nature. I wanted a more visceral revenge than just watching the people responsible getting arrested. Or did I? I’d be throwing my whole life away for something that didn’t matter to Jake anymore, and wouldn’t matter at all to Dad as he’d never know. No, the only person I was trying to satisfy was myself, and that realisation was like a lightbulb coming on.
“Fuck.”
“Fuck?” Sally tilted her head to one side expectantly.
“I’m such a selfish prick sometimes.”
“You’ve only just figured that out?”
“Thanks. OK, we’ll do it your way, mostly.”
“What do you mean, mostly?” she asked with narrowed eyes.
“Well I’ll hand myself in, but not to PSD. Do me a favour? Call in and find out what extension the NCA are using at John Street. If I’m going to do this, there’s someone I need to speak to first.”
She nodded and made the call, stepping out into the hallway while I sat impatiently, hoping that I was doing the right thing.
I’d almost convinced myself when Sally came back in and held out her phone.
“It’s someone called Tony Patterson. They put me through, he wants to speak to you.”
“Tony,” I said putting the phone to my ear. “This is Gareth Bell.”
“You’re a hard man to keep track of.” His soft Manchester accent had an underlying tension that hadn’t been there before. “Why are you calling me?”
“Because I can get you Harrison, and the flash drive you’re after, but I need a guarantee that PSD won’t hang me out to dry.”
“That’s a lot to ask. We don’t get involved in local police matters.”
“Bullshit. This nets you actionable intelligence on someone involved in your current case. You should be chewing my arm off for it. Why aren’t you?”
“Honestly? Because I think you’re a liability. Your next demand will be that you stay involved in the investigation. You just saw your brother killed right in front of you, which you have my condolences for, by the way. If that was me, I’d want blood, and I can’t have someone working with me who might go off the rails.”
“Then use me in the office,” his assumption was right, that was going to be my next demand, and the fact that he’d worked it out further convinced me I’d made the right choice. “I’m an intelligence officer and I know the city. I might spot something your guys wouldn’t.”
I could hear him breathing as he thought it through.
“Tell you what,” he said finally. “I’ll do you a deal. I’ll get PSD to agree to a statement under caution, and as long as you don’t disclose anything criminal, I’ll twist their arm not to discipline you. In return, you come to me first and give me everything you’ve got. Sound fair?”
“And what about remaining on the investigation?”
“Let’s see what you’ve got to tell me first.”
It was my turn to hesitate. I wanted more assurances, but he had me over a barrel and we both knew it. I could take his deal or wait until PSD caught up with me. The very least they would do was have me up on dereliction of duty charges, or whatever equivalent they could find, but if I agreed to Patterson’s terms I should walk away with nothing but another black mark in my file to go with all the others.
“Fine. Shall I come to you?”
“Christ no. Every time you pop your head up something bad happens. I’ll send a car. Where are you?”
I gave him the address and he rang off with a clear warning to stay where I was and wait for his officers. I handed the phone back to Sally and we waited in silence for a while, neither of us quite sure what to say.
“Thank you. For everything,” I said finally.
She smiled shyly and shrugged. “No bother. It’s not completely horrible to see you again, truth be told.”
“Same. Would now be a good time to say I’m sorry?”
“What for?”
“Everything, I guess.”
“Maybe you could apologise properly over a glass of wine when this is all done with?” The smile turned into a grin that I remembered well, and my heart began to beat faster.
“I’d love to.” An answering grin bloomed on my own face. “And I promise to clean up first.”
“You need to.” She sniffed the air pointedly. “You’re, uh, piquant.”
“Like I said, it’s been a hard few days.”
The doorbell rang, cutting off whatever she was about to say.
“That was quick,” she said instead, disappearing into the hallway to answer the door.
Her words set off an alarm bell in my head. Looking down at her phone, I blinked. Swallowed. It was a Samsung X60, the same type Sussex Police issued to everyone as a work phone.
“Shit, Sally!” I ran into the hallway just as she opened the door, too late to do more than shout a warning. The two men from Maggie’s burst through, one wielding a club-like taser while the other levelled a pistol at us.
Sally yelled in surprise, but even with the shock she was already moving. In our years together she’d started training with me, determined never to let herself be a victim again after what Davey had done to her. It seemed she hadn’t forgotten what she’d learned.
Grabbing the outstretched pistol she twisted hard, forcing the man’s arm against his chest. Before he could recover she brought her knee up into his groin, folding him like a wet rag. What she would have done next I wasn’t sure, because that was the moment the man with the taser clipped her behind the ear with it.
Electricity buzzed and she jolted, slamming back against the wall before sliding down to the carpet.
Roaring my anger, I flew down the hallway towards him but he was ready for me. Sidestepping my punches, he tapped one of my outstretched hands with the taser.
Fifty thousand volts hit me like a steam train and I flew backwards, hitting the wall next to Sally and collapsing on top of her.
I was still conscious, but my body wouldn’t move. All I could do was watch as the men pulled syringes from a case that one of them produced and stabbed needles into our arms. I don’t know what was in it, but within seconds my body went numb. One of them kicked me to make sure it was working, then they searched us and dragged us outside into the back of their waiting car.
Chapter 36
I don’t know how long we drove for, but they hit me twice with the taser during the journey. I suspected they were just doing it for fun. The second time I almost passed out, but even awake I couldn’t see more than a slice of the back seat.
One of the men sat with us in the back while the other sat with the driver, passing occasional comments in Russian that usually ended in dirty laughter. I didn’t understand what they were saying, but the tone of voice and the timbre of their laughter told me it was something to do with Sally, who was lying half on top of me, face down.
I let it feed the anger bubbling inside me,
hoping it would help me regain control of my body, but my fingers wouldn’t do more than twitch.
I was still straining when the car stopped. One of the men got out and I heard the scrape of metal on concrete, then we started moving again slowly. The light coming into the car changed, going from bright sunlight to dim electric glare. We stopped again and the doors opened, then we were dragged out into what looked like an underground car park.
They hauled us across cold concrete that smelled faintly of petrol and old rubber, then made a meal of hoisting us up onto their shoulders to carry us up a set of stairs.
The wound in my side began to hurt at the rough treatment, and I thought I could feel blood trickling down my ribs, although it was hard to tell for sure. Inside I was raging, screaming at the top of my voice, but I couldn’t make more than a guttural choking sound out loud.
I didn’t care so much about myself, it was my fault I was here, but I was terrified at the thought of what they might do to her, and in that terror I saw my weakness. Had it just been me I could have goaded them until they beat me unconscious, but I couldn’t bear to see her hurt.
The stairs opened out into a corridor of whitewashed breezeblocks on either side of a thin brown carpet, with nothing that told me where we might be. I couldn’t hear anything other than the footfalls and occasional grunts of our captors as they carried us along, and the only thing I could smell was the body odour from the man whose shoulder I rested on.
We carried on for perhaps thirty seconds before taking a right turn, then we were hauled through a door and dumped into a pair of orange plastic chairs.
One man held us in place while another cable tied our hands to the small oval hole in the back of the chair, a process that involved much shoving and sliding before we were secure.
That done, they backed away and left, shutting the door and leaving us in darkness.
We sat there for what could have been hours, aware but unable to move. I spent the entire time cursing silently and struggling to regain control of my body. It was only when I finally stopped fighting that I heard Sally shift on her chair.
“Graggghh,” I said, which was meant to be ‘are you ok?’
“Fuck.” Her voice was thick but the word was clear. I redoubled my efforts and managed to work my tongue a little to get some saliva in my mouth.
“OK?” I forced out after several tries.
“No.”
“Fuck.”
“Yeah.”
I gave it a few minutes and tried again with a little more success.
“Are you hurt?” I asked, sounding out the words carefully.
“Scraped up.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Saying that a lot today.”
“I know. Any idea where we are?”
“No, couldn’t see anything. How did they find us, were you followed?”
“No, your work phone. They were listening in on airwave, wasn’t sure about the phones. Guess we know now.”
“How?”
It was getting easier to talk. “Come on, you know as well as I do that work have the facility to listen in on our calls. Russians must have used the system and tagged the phone of everyone I might talk to. Bastards.”
“What happens now?” She sounded scared, and rightly so.
“No idea, but if they wanted us dead they would have done it at the house, which means they need us for something. My guess is to find that bloody flash drive.”
“Do you know why they want it so badly?”
“No, no one does. I’ve got no clue what’s on there, but it’s worth killing for so it must be valuable.”
As if on cue the door swung open and the lights came on. I blinked rapidly, my eyes tearing at the sudden change. When I could focus, I saw the woman who’d knifed me the day before, flanked by the same two men. This time she was dressed in jeans and a casual sweater, which looked strangely out of place on someone I knew to be a cold-blooded killer.
She walked into the room, which I could now see was just large enough for half a dozen chairs and a couple of tables. There were clusters of power points on the floor and white trunking on the walls at waist height with phone and internet ports in it. The walls themselves the same white breezeblocks and the carpet still thin, brown and heavily worn in places.
Taking a chair, the woman sat just out of reach and gave me a stare that felt like it could strip the skin off my face.
“I was very clear when I told you not to speak to anyone.” Despite the glare, her tone was almost conversational.
“That was before you started killing people,” I spat, using the anger to hide my fear. “I think I still have the moral high ground.”
“Who’s talking about morals? We had an agreement. You find what I want and give it to me, or more people die. You’re running out of time.”
“Who the fuck are you?” I demanded. “This is England, you can’t just go around killing people and expect to get away with it!”
“We won’t be here long enough to worry about it. You give me the bag and I promise you’ll never see any of us again.”
“It wasn’t in the bag.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Then where is it?”
“I don’t know.”
She moved like a panther, uncurling from the chair and putting a knife to my throat before I could blink. Sally gasped but I didn’t dare make a sound. I knew how sharp that blade was.
“Don’t lie to me,” she hissed. “Tell me where.”
I glanced down at the knife and she moved it just enough that I could talk without cutting myself.
“It wasn’t in the bag. I assume Craig Harrison hid it in his room.”
“Or he still has it?”
“Maybe,” I admitted.
“Then you need to find him.”
“I don’t know how,” I lied.
“You’re a resourceful man, think of something.”
“You know I’m wanted, right? If I start stomping around Brighton someone will see me and I’ll end up in a cell. If that happens, I’m no use to you.”
“I can see you need motivation.” She moved away, then stopped as a phone began to ring in her pocket. Sighing, she pulled it out and put it to her ear.
“Yes?”
A voice came from the phone, tinny and indistinct but clearly that of a child. As she listened, her face softened slightly. She turned away to talk quietly into the phone.
“I know sweetheart, but mummy will be home soon. I’m working, you know that. It’s just a few days. How about when I get back we go shopping, just you and me? OK, Ya lyublyu tebya, darling.”
She put the phone in her pocket, straightened up and turned back to us.
“Now,” she looked us up and down. “Where was I? Oh yes, motivation.”
Without warning she stepped forward, pivoted and drove her knife into Sally’s thigh. Sally screamed as blood welled around the blade and I shot to my feet, chair and all, and charged at the woman.
“Get the fuck off her, you bitch!” I roared, trying to smash my forehead into her face. She sidestepped the clumsy attempt, leaving the knife in Sally’s leg, and casually swept my ankle with her foot.
I crashed to the hard floor, the carpet doing nothing to cushion my fall as I landed badly on the chair I was still bound to.
“I’m going to leave that knife there,” she said over Sally’s screams, “until you come back to me with the flash drive. You’d better hurry, because she’ll either bleed out and die or get blood poisoning from the blade and they’ll have to take her leg. Shame, she’s a pretty girl.”
“You fucking cunt,” I growled, struggling to get to my feet. “I’m going to rip you a new …”
She kicked me in the face, just hard enough to split my lip as my head snapped backwards.
“You’re wasting time,” she said calmly, as if this was just a usual day at the office for her. Perhaps it was. “Andrei will take you back to Brighton. Take this.”
She pulled another mob
ile phone out of her pocket and passed it to Andrei, the man she had indicated. He took it, then he and the second man took a firm grip on my arms and sliced through the cable ties binding me to the chair.
I looked over at Sally as they dragged me from the room.
“I’ll be back,” I called to her. “Stay strong, OK?”
I could see the pain in her eyes, see the effort it took for her to stop moaning and straighten up, and at that moment I fell in love with her all over again.
“Just be quick,” she said through gritted teeth, “this fucking stings.”
They pulled me clear of the door, then slapped a pair of handcuffs on my wrists, tightening them cruelly.
“You want my advice,” Andrei said in heavily accented English as they walked me back to the car, “don’t piss Svetlana off. Do what she says and you’ll get your woman back in one piece. If not?”
He drew one finger across his throat and his companion grinned.
Instead of replying I put my head down and tried my best to look like a beaten man. I wanted them to think me cowed, too scared to fight back. Because when I made my move, I vowed they wouldn’t see me coming until it was too late.
Chapter 37
If I’d thought the front seat of an Audi was bad, that’s because I’d never been shoved in the boot of a Vauxhall Insignia.
The drive back was long, uncomfortable and more than a little painful, and more than once I thanked my lucky stars that I wasn’t claustrophobic or I might have gone mad. As it was I felt like crying with relief when the car finally stopped and they let me out. I walked a few steps on shaky legs and had to lean against a wall to stop my head spinning from the heady combination of petrol fumes and my own CO2.
When I could breathe properly I looked around and immediately recognised my surroundings. They’d stopped in Queen’s Park, on the east side of Brighton and just a stone’s throw from the nick.
As soon as I straightened, Andrei handed me the phone.
“One number in there. You want us, you call it. We already listen, so no funny shit. You talk to the police, girl dies. Phone stops transmitting, girl dies. You get flash drive, girl lives and you all go home.” He patted me on the shoulder as if we were old friends. It was all I could do not to kill him there and then. Instead, I took a deep breath and forced a smile.
Closer Than Blood Page 15