“Who?” she said.
“His name’s Harold Reedman,” he replied, tossing a buff folder onto the desk between them.
Raven picked it up and flicked through the photos inside of a podgy middle aged man with receding grey hair and big bug eyes.
“Make it look natural,” he added. “And quick and painless. He’s a nuisance but I have no wish for him to suffer.”
She nodded. “Has he any pre-existing medical conditions?”
“He’s had two heart attacks in the last four years, so a third won’t raise any eyebrows.”
“Understood,” she said, getting to her feet.
“One more thing,” he said.
“And what’s that?” she sighed, retaking her seat, assuming he was going to ask her out to dinner again. He’d asked several times but she’d always refused, she didn’t think such an arrangement would be professional and because she was married. The fact that she rarely saw her husband didn’t make much difference to her. She was surprised Patrick had asked her in the first place, he liked to keep his personal and professional lives separate but he did find her intriguing. Plus he was a man used to getting what he wanted and the fact that she’d turned him down only made him want her more.
“Aidan,” he said.
Raven went absolutely still, eyes wide and unblinking, doing her best to reveal no emotion, aware of Patrick’s icy gaze boring into her, studying her for a reaction. Her errant husband was the only thing that could upset her and Patrick loved to see her disconcerted, if only to prove she was actually human.
She recovered herself, forcing her muscles to relax and she leaned back in her chair, casually crossing one leg over the other. “Where?” was all she said.
“Ibiza.”
Her lip curled with disdain. “What’s he doing in that shithole?”
“That’s rather harsh. It does have its nice parts. He’s been causing trouble, which should come as no surprise as that seems to be his favourite thing to do.”
“How do you know what he’s been up to all the way in Spain?”
“A business acquaintance of mine was holidaying there recently.”
Patrick didn’t have friends. Raven had only ever heard him describe people who weren’t blood family as acquaintances. He didn’t like anyone getting close to him.
“From the description he gave,” he continued. “I guessed it was Aidan immediately. There aren’t many men with hawks tattooed on their necks. Further enquiries I made confirmed the fact.”
“What happened?”
“He got involved in a barroom brawl, which quickly escalated into a pitched battle involving tourists, locals and police. I would have intervened on your behalf but it seems your husband has some powerful friends as his bail was paid and the charges dropped. Then he left Spain.”
“Where did he go?”
“Belize, before dropping off the radar again. He’s very good at that.”
Patrick watched with interest as Raven’s shoulders slumped, her dark eyes filling with sadness.
“Yes he is,” she said.
He was disappointed when the shutters came down on her emotions and she got to her feet.
“I’ll let you know when the job’s done,” she said.
“Thank you Raven. Let’s hope this job goes more smoothly than the last one you attempted to do for me.” He smiled inwardly when her jaw tensed with annoyance. He’d sent her on a similar errand three months ago, only someone else got there first and killed the mark before she’d had the opportunity. It had also happened when she’d taken on a contract for a local gangster and for the first time, her reputation was taking a knock.
The sadness fled from her eyes, replaced with ice. “I’ll make sure it will,” she said before stalking out, leaving him to lean back in his chair with a grin. He loved it when he managed to get her to show her feelings.
Raven sat in her car, which she’d parked outside the massive glass and steel edifice that housed Patrick’s empire, staring at the steering wheel as she considered the information he’d given her. She’d been married to Aidan Gallagher for eight years. They’d spent less than half of that physically together. Their relationship was passionate and consuming. When she was with him the rest of the world didn’t exist. But if they spent too long in each other’s company bad things happened. Whereas she was so cautious, Aidan was the opposite, leaping at any chance for excitement and danger. When she was with him she found herself doing the same, throwing her usual caution to the wind and several times she’d got herself into hot water thanks to her husband. Once she’d almost died and that was when Aidan had decided it would be better for her if he stayed away, he’d been unable to cope with the guilt. She remembered him telling her while she was in her hospital bed, fighting for her life that if she died he’d kill himself. However she’d pulled through, so he hadn’t been bound to carry out his threat. Ever since then he’d returned home sporadically, only to vanish again when things became too wild, leaving her with a shattered heart. She’d lost count of the amount of times she’d had to put herself back together because of him.
So she’d remained in their lonely house on the Yorkshire moors, where he could always find her when he was ready to come home. Sometimes she got the overwhelming urge to divorce him and move on, find a place to live that didn’t constantly remind her of him. But when it came time to go through with it, she found she couldn’t do it. Despite everything, she loved him deeply and always would. No other man could make her feel what Aidan did. When they were together and at their best it was mind-blowing, not just the sex but their entire relationship. It was just how he affected her, so she put up with him vanishing because no one else would be able to satisfy her like he could, in every single way.
She took out the ring she wore on a chain around her neck, the same one he’d placed on her finger eight years ago on a beach in Belize. It had cut her deep when Patrick had said that was where Aidan had run to, she had so many fond memories of that place…
Raven shook herself out of it and started the engine, stomping thoughts of Aidan deep down inside herself. She had someone to kill before her mysterious stalker got there first and took her money as well as a piece of her reputation.
CHAPTER 3
Patrick, in the folder he’d given Raven, had indicated that the best time to hit Harold Reedman was while he was at a charity fundraiser at a hotel in Leeds city centre. Plenty of people were due to attend, consequently she could move about unnoticed.
In order to blend in, she’d donned the white blouse and black trousers of a waitress. There were plenty of them moving about the vast room carrying trays, serving drinks and collecting the empties. So she wouldn’t be recognised, she wore a blond wig and had put in blue contact lenses.
There were almost five hundred people in attendance, all very affluent. The fact it was a charity event to raise money for the needy hadn’t prevented them all from donning their most expensive clothes and jewellery, the sparkle from countless diamonds dazzling. This event wasn’t just about raising money for a worthy cause, it was also a huge opportunity to show off their wealth and success to those they called friends but were in fact mostly enemies. The hypocrisy of it all made Raven loathe the human race even more.
It had been easy to locate Harold Reedman in the crowd. He was a corpulent, florid-faced man with a booming voice that rang out loud and clear. He looked horribly unhealthy, so a third heart attack would surprise no one. The magic potion in the syringe secreted in her pocket would go unnoticed. With his medical history no one was going to be doing a toxicology report.
She meandered around the room, handing out glasses of champagne from the silver tray she carried. No one had challenged her or asked her what she was doing here, not even the other serving staff. Because she wore black trousers and a white shirt they’d all assumed she was a waitress and had a right to be here.
A leering city boy in a pinstripe shirt and braces snatched a glass from her tray and it was onl
y Raven’s quick reflexes that prevented the entire thing from tipping over. He grinned at her before smacking her on the bottom. Raven took a deep breath, forcing away the urge to punch him in the face. She had a job to do and she would allow no one to distract her, especially not a wanker like that.
Without so much as a glance she strode past him, circulating the room in an ever-narrowing arc, getting closer to Harold, who was holding court to a group of guffawing suits. He was just the type of person Patrick loathed - boorish, obnoxiously loud and not in rigid control of himself. Still, he must have a good brain in his sizeable head if he was managing to cause someone as wily as Patrick Bryce trouble.
She was distracted from the mark by a figure who was likewise circulating the room, similarly dressed as a waiter. He was tall and strong-looking and wore thick black-framed glasses. His hair was short and dark and the slightly unnatural way it sat on top of his head told her it was a wig. His face was chubby but the glasses and wig indicated this was more than likely padding. She’d seen this face before, seconds before she’d been ready to shoot a gang boss in the head on the order of another gang boss. In the end she hadn’t taken the shot as this person had got there first, stealing her contract right from under her nose before shooting at her to chase her off. He’d also taken the last contract Patrick had given her. Well not again.
It appeared he hadn’t spotted her but she couldn’t be certain of that, although her disguise was a good one. No doubt he knew she must be here. What bothered her was how he knew about her contracts. She told no one else and Patrick and the gang boss had both sworn blind they hadn’t told him. If he was following her about she would have noticed. How the hell was he doing it?
She had to act fast and get to Harold before he had the chance. She would not allow him to do this to her a third time.
She walked straight towards Harold, careful to keep her pace casual, sighing with impatience when a woman stopped her to take a champagne glass from her tray. Smiling politely at the woman she swiftly moved on, fighting the urge to break into a run, keeping one eye on the male waiter, who was further from Harold than she was. The mark was too engrossed in regaling his fawning audience with anecdotes to notice her, all of them drunk. Their eyes were closed to everything going on around them, thinking they were the centre of the universe.
Balancing the tray on one hand, she slid her right hand into her trouser pocket. The syringe was small. In her closed fist it would be unnoticeable. Looking across the room she saw the male waiter had been forced to stop by a man wanting a glass of champagne. He appeared relaxed, as though he had all the time in the world. Inwardly she smiled. His arrogance was going to be his downfall.
Raven circled the group of men gathered around Harold, the syringe in one hand. Just another ten feet and she would be directly behind the mark. Glancing at the male waiter it came as a shock to see he was looking directly at her, a smile on his lips. She watched as he raised his right hand, something clutched in it…
She stopped dead when all the lights went out.
The room was plunged into blackness. There were murmurs of confusion and shouts for the lights to be turned back on. It was so dark she couldn’t see two feet in front of her. Harold was somewhere to her left and she could just about make out a figure she thought might be him but she was taking no chances. The last thing she wanted to do was kill the wrong person.
Immediately to her right was a table and she slid the tray of drinks onto it, looking to where her rival had been standing but in the darkness and confusion she had no idea whether he was still there or not. He must have turned out the lights, that was what the device he’d held in his hand was for. But if she couldn’t see the mark then neither could he.
Someone had the foresight to throw open the thick velvet curtains covering the large window to the right, revealing the orange glow of the streetlights. In that light she spied an odd reflection move across the room, right to left, as the light bounced off plastic. Acting on instinct, she moved towards it and as her eyes adjusted to the gloom she realised it was someone wearing night vision goggles. And they were heading straight for Harold.
“Oh no you don’t you bastard,” she muttered, rushing forwards.
But it was too late. His hand shot out and Harold staggered forward slightly.
“You okay mate?” said his friend, putting a hand on his shoulder to steady him.
“I don’t know,” she heard his confused voice say before he dropped.
“Help,” cried his friend. “He’s having a heart attack.”
These words yelled in the dark panicked the other guests, who all tried to rush towards the source of the voice, stumbling over each other while others tried to run away.
Raven leapt back against the wall, racing round the edge of the room as the bastard who had stolen another of her contracts sped for the fire exit.
The door shut behind him and seconds later Raven burst through it. The lights were still on in the stairwell. She made chase when she saw him heading downstairs, aiming for the door that led into the underground car park.
Raven leapt over the railing, landing on him before he could escape. To her surprise she was immediately flung backwards and she ducked, avoiding the fist that was swung at her.
“Who are you?” she demanded, kicking out, catching him in the upper left thigh, sending him staggering back a few steps.
“Your replacement,” he retorted in a strong Yorkshire accent.
So he was a local boy, unless that was part of his disguise too? She couldn’t afford to take anything for granted.
“There’s not enough work for two of us,” he added, attempting to punch her again and missing.
“So leave then,” she said, blocking his follow-up punch and slamming her fist into the left side of his face.
“Bitch,” he hissed, drawing a knife from the back of his trousers.
“You’re going to need more than that to get rid of me,” she said, leaping backwards when he swiped at her with the blade. She hadn’t brought any weapons, thinking they would be very hard to explain if she was caught with them. High ranking police officers had been invited to the charity dinner. Sometimes she wished she wasn’t so cautious.
The door to the car park burst open and they both leapt aside when two paramedics ran through it, bags slung over their shoulders, maneouvering a stretcher between them. Her rival took the opportunity to slip out the door. Once the paramedics were out of the way Raven ran after him, coming to a halt in the middle of the car park, scanning the area for him but he was nowhere to be seen.
There was the roar of an engine behind her and she threw herself aside as a black Ford Mondeo tore past her. She glimpsed her rival’s smug face through the windscreen as it sped past. Raven memorised the licence plate but she had the feeling that particular lead would get her nowhere.
Shoulders slumped, she headed out of the car park and walked two streets to the small silver Ford Fiesta she used when she wanted to be incognito. She climbed in and pulled off the wig, running her fingers through her hair. With a sigh, she took out her phone and called Patrick.
After just a couple of rings he answered, no doubt waiting for her to call.
“Well?” he said.
“It’s done.”
“Excellent. Any problems?”
“Yes. I didn’t do it.”
“Are you saying someone else got there first, again?”
“I am,” she sighed.
“I must say Raven, I’m deeply disappointed.”
“You’re not the only one.”
“Is the mark gone?”
At that moment the two paramedics brought out the stretcher carrying a sizeable lump covered in a red blanket. “I can’t confirm for sure but it looks like it.”
“Have you any idea who’s doing this?”
“I confronted him today. He pulled a knife on me. We fought. I’m confident that if we hadn’t been interrupted I would have beaten him.”
“But d
o you know who he is?”
“No.”
“This doesn’t fill me with joy Raven. You’re the best at what you do but this man is running rings around you.”
She fought the desperate urge to tell him to piss off. Right now she needed all the friends she could get. “You didn’t tell anyone else about this job?”
“Of course not. You’re the only one who knows. Are you sure you didn’t let it slip?”
“Of course I’m sure. I destroyed the file you gave me as soon as I read it, like I always do.”
“Destroyed how?”
“Fire. There wasn’t anything left.”
A tense, paranoid silence filled the line and it pleased Raven that Patrick was no doubt panicking that someone was somehow overhearing every word of his conversations, which in turn meant he couldn’t put the blame on her. Yet.
“Let me know what you find out,” he said. “I’ll pay you some recompense for your time but you don’t get the full fee.”
“Fair enough,” she replied before he hung up. She couldn’t complain, it was more than she’d expected.
Raven drove back to the barn, driving the car into the garage and locking it up before entering the house by the door connecting the garage to the kitchen. She drew the blackout blinds before turning on the lights. As the house was made of natural stone, without the lights showing her house became practically invisible at night. It would be impossible for anyone looking for it in the dark to pick it out from the main road, which was half a mile away.
Raven made herself a cup of green tea and sat at the kitchen table, sipping her drink while considering the evening’s events. She still knew practically nothing about her rival, except the fact that he was local. His accent had stayed exactly the same, even when they were fighting, convincing her it was real. However his disguise meant she still had no idea what he looked like. Tomorrow she would begin her inquiries. He had to be stopped and the sooner the better, before he destroyed her reputation completely.
After rinsing her mug under the tap, she ensured all the doors and windows were locked, set the alarm, switched off the lights and headed into her bedroom. She stripped off, dumping her clothes in the laundry basket and sat naked on the end of the bed, gazing at the photo of herself and Aidan together on their wedding day in Belize, arms wrapped around each other. There had been no big flouncy white wedding for them, just herself and Aidan on the beach with the boat captain who’d agreed to marry them and a couple of American tourists they’d got friendly with who acted as witnesses. They’d known each other two months, travelling together through the Mediterranean and into the Caribbean before arriving in Belize. Rather than the traditional reception, after they were wed they celebrated by repelling down a waterfall followed by a romantic cruise through the underground caves. They’d enjoyed a very hectic wedding night in a lodge in the jungle then taken a trip to the Mayan ruins of Xunantunich the next day. An English tourist had taken this photo of them together seconds before running off with Aidan’s camera, a decision he’d regretted when Aidan had easily caught up with him and made him give it back. After that they’d just kept travelling - Egypt, Vietnam, China, Japan, India. The first six months of their marriage had been blissful as they’d followed their hearts, travelling wherever they liked. Then they’d decided it was time to return to the UK and they’d bought this house together. Neither of them liked people, so the isolation was perfect.
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