Errand of Mercy: How far do you run, and where do you hide?

by William Walker

  “For the record, Ms. Amudsen, would you define the relationship? This man is now a fugitive.”

  “I had a…I guess you could say a romantic involvement.”

  “And how long did this involvement last?”

  “Just one night.”

  The men shifted in their seats. Mumbled comments came from the bench. The men peered at Lucy.

  She took a breath and blurted, “It wasn’t…we weren’t…we didn’t…”

  Nevins removed his glasses. “What exactly are you trying to say, Miss Amudsen?”

  “I’m trying to say that we kissed and hugged a lot one night, but we didn’t actually do it.” Lucy folded her arms and pushed out her jaw. “Is that enough?”

  A wash of suppressed laughter headed toward Nevins. He reddened.

  “We just want to establish that there was no contributory activity accessory to the crime,” the Chief Constable replied with a straight face.

  Lucy said, “The point is that when I got close to him I found that he was weird and dangerous, and I never trusted him again.”

  “You were right on that score, I’m afraid. Whoever this man is, his blood type is O-Negative. Extremely rare. Only seven percent of the population carries that type. We found the blood on the tissues he used to clean his leg wound as he cleared customs. Ordinarily, the rubbish would’ve been taken away, but owing to the weekend no one emptied the bins.”

  “That’s why you needed our blood types,” O’Brien said.

  Nevins nodded. “The blood stains found on Ms. Pimsell’s knees—she’s the poor lady who was murdered—was also O-Negative, the same as this mystery man named Starr. Evidently she kicked at her assailant in her death struggle.” He positioned his glasses on the table. “Needless to say, the evidence from the video and the blood stains rule out both of you as suspects in the crime.”

  Lucy let out a yelp and raised her hand to O’Brien. He hi-fived.

  Nevins glanced at Lloyd. “We’ll get to the discharge procedures in a moment, but I’d like to ask the pilots a few more questions if you don’t mind.”

  Lloyd replied, “As long as they don’t incriminate my clients in some manner.”

  “So why are they chasing you?” Nevins asked. He looked at O’Brien. “We’re curious. We’ve all seen the videos in the airport and train station. It’s pretty obvious they’re after you for some reason.”

  O’Brien went over the suspicions about the hidden cargo from Brazil, the mechanical problems in Liberia, and lastly the bout of sickness that Lucy endured.

  “And because we delayed the airplane’s departure several days and thereby the cocaine shipment, they wanted to teach us a lesson. Best guess,” O’Brien concluded. “One of the thugs named Cottingham told me as much.”

  “And this airplane?”

  “Is no longer here,” Lloyd broke in.

  “Well,” the Chief Constable announced after a long pause. He slowly folded his glasses and surveyed his associates to the left and right. “If you see this Murdock fellow again, please give Inspector Sudbury a call at the Brighton number. You’ll get his card. And incidentally, the big man in that group of criminals goes by the name of Udo Kerschner, a German. Interpol has a laundry list of crimes he’s committed and we’re not sure how he got into the country.”

  The Chief Inspector stood and the others did the same. “I’ll leave you in the care of Inspector Sudbury and your solicitor.” He glanced again at the other men and seemed to arrive at a decision. “I’m not at liberty to discuss ongoing criminal investigations, but your experiences could provide answers to some very important questions we’ve been asking ourselves. It’s possible that you’ve stumbled onto one tentacle of a cartel. You might say a very deadly octopus. Be careful while you’re here.”

  23

  Murdock worked a toothpick back and forth in a lazy manner in his mouth. A bit of beef occasionally popped out from between his teeth and he nibbled at the larger pieces. The smaller ones he spit onto the beige leather interior of the car.

  “Is time yet?” Udo asked from the rear seat.

  The last rays of the western sun were reflecting orange in the topmost windows of the surrounding buildings. At street level the light was rapidly fading.

  He scowled and turned his head toward the others. “We have all night. The Conductor said not to move until it gets nice and dark. We wait some more.”

  Sudbury returned their passports and cell phones. O’Brien’s wallet went back into his pants pocket, and Lucy retrieved her purse.

  “Would you like to see your visitor?” he asked. “He’s in the waiting area.” Sudbury led them across the entrance foyer and through a smoked-glass door.

  The visitor lobby had the stale look of an unused conference room. Worn lounge chairs were scattered over a bare linoleum floor that needed cleaning. In one corner an older couple sat motionless with grim, sad-eyed expressions, as if waiting for word of a failed heart transplant. Lucy’s brother was standing with arms crossed in front of a series of frayed, black and white wanted posters taped to the wall. He shifted his weight up and down on the balls of his feet.

  “Eric!” Lucy cried.

  The man turned a large, blond face toward his sister and smiled widely as he opened his arms. “My sister the felon.”

  “You Yanks certainly appear to be getting taller and larger,” Sudbury remarked.

  “It’s the fast food,” O’Brien said as he watched the two embrace in a bear hug. “I’ve heard they put hormones in the beef.” He was beginning to believe it himself. Lucy’s brother was a giant, a nightmare tackle from a football game. He stood at least six feet, five inches. His chest wall looked like a slab of concrete.

  Sudbury shook his head. “I’d want him on my side in a scrum.”

  “He’d be a tough rugby player,” O’Brien agreed. “But he’s a pilot like his sister. He flies for FedEx.”

  Lucy tugged her brother toward them and O’Brien reached out and shook a strong hand connected to a stronger arm. The blond giant looked down at a slight angle with a pair of friendly, intelligent eyes. His forehead had furrows of concern.

  “Lucy’s lost weight,” he said. He grabbed her shoulders with paws the size of salad plates and gave her a shake.

  “So it’s the hormones, is it?” The inspector shook his head with wonder.

  “This is Inspector Sudbury,” Lucy said. “He’s one of the good guys.”

  “Well, right,” Sudbury replied. His hand disappeared in the larger man’s grasp. “As I said, we’re all good guys here.”

  “Don’t break his fingers,” Lucy laughed. She punched her brother on the shoulder.

  O’Brien coughed politely after a few minutes. “Are we free to go then?”

  Sudbury nodded. “You’ve got my card, and my chaps will give you a ride back to Brighton.”

  “I can drive them, Inspector,” Eric said. “I’ve got a company car and I’d like to spend some time catching up on things.”

  “That’s fine...and sorry about the ordeal today. It’s the government. Everything takes longer than it should.” He put a firm tone in his voice. “Remember, these men are dangerous. We know they’re killers now, and it appears that you’ve somehow hit the outside margins of a large, criminal organization. Be careful.” He gave them a parting wave and retreated through the glass doorway of the lobby.

  “I’ve got to call Gina,” O’Brien said. “Give me a minute.” He stepped a few feet away, flipped his cell phone open and punched in the number of the rental unit. Four ring tones sounded through the small device.

  “Hello.” It was a single word with a musical up-tick on the last syllable, and the sound quickened his breathing.

  “Gina, it’s me, Daniel. We’re free.”

  “I know who you are,” she burst out. “God, I’ve been so worried about you. Where are you?”

  Her voice had a soft sliding sound, like a whisper in his ear. He thought of other things, holding her. Maybe Lucy was right about the
two of them.

  “Daniel?”

  “I’m here. I was just caught up in your voice for a second. You sound so good.”

  “Mmm, tell me about it.” Then, “So you guys are free to leave? It’s been a long day for you.””

  “Yeah, they’ve got Starr and the others on a video camera. One of those guys, and probably Starr, murdered that poor old lady.”

  “Why? It doesn’t—”

  “I don’t think they really know why, but I’ll explain everything when we get there. The police have no idea who Starr really is. They say the real Gary Starr died four years ago in Austin, Texas. Maybe he was murdered. Who knows?” He glanced at Lucy wheeling her fingers into a speed-up sign. “Anyway, we’re leaving Crawley now and should be at the flat in about forty-five minutes. Lucy’s brother is here. He’ll be coming too.”

  “Okay. Jenny and Charlie left hours ago...and Daniel?”

  “Yeah?”

  “I intended to sleep in your bed tonight, even though I didn’t think you’d be here.”

  He was silent.

  “I still intend to. See you in a little while, love.” She rang off.

  Udo shifted his bulk with a heavy jarring motion, and the stationary BMW swayed on its suspension. He was agitated, ready to fight, to push against something, to release all of the energy swirling around in his muscle cells. He wanted to move. “Is dark now,” he said to the Briton. “Is very dark.” He could see nothing on the street that wasn’t illuminated by artificial light.

  Murdock glanced at the dashboard clock. The blue digital numbers read 8:25. He nodded sharply to the others. “Udo is correct. It is time.” He flicked the unlock switch on the doors.

  Udo swung open the rear door and pulled himself out onto the concrete curb. He stretched, swung his arms and slapped his heavy shoes against the pavement in a little hop. His leg hurt, but not so badly anymore.

  Starr exited the car quietly and moved toward the front of the vehicle.

  “Remember.” The Briton drew back his lips in a grin. “We make the doctor practice medicine on his female colleague until we get the diamonds.” He kept his attention on Starr. “Hopefully you’ll do a better job this time.”

  Udo spoke slowly to Murdock, “You have said about die Fraulein.”

  “Yes, perhaps you can play with her,” Murdock said. He spit in the street. “But only after we have the diamonds. Klar?”

  “Ja, klar, ” Udo mumbled with excitement. Blood surged lower down as he focused on the back window of the third-floor apartment.

  Lucy took the back seat of the Toyota Land Cruiser. “Hey, Eric. What’s this over the back seat?”

  “That’s my uniform, Sis. I was going to have it pressed today, but I wanted to make sure I was around in case you guys needed me.”

  “I want one of these,” Lucy said. Her fingers slid over the gold wings pinned to the coat and the four captain stripes on the sleeves.

  “We’ll keep trying for FedEx, but I get the feeling they really don’t want close family members as pilots,” he said.

  “Now that we’ve been cleared of murder charges you can take a good shot at Virgin Airways,” O’Brien edged in. “We can get Sudbury to swear that you were a model prisoner.”

  “Fuck you, Daniel.”

  Eric navigated the vehicle from the police compound to the A-23 motorway through a series of circular roundabouts and bothersome intersections, all from the left side of the road.

  O’Brien was impressed. “You seem to know your way around pretty well.”

  “Actually, I layover in London quite often, but it’s the first time I’ve been to police headquarters. I guess meeting Lucy in, say, the coffee shop at Harrods, would have been too boring.”

  “To you both,” Lucy said. She kicked the back of the seat.

  “So what in the world is this whole thing all about?” Eric asked. “The police wouldn’t tell me much.”

  “You wouldn’t believe what your sister’s been up to,” Lucy said.

  Her brother accelerated the Land Cruiser onto a long straightaway. O’Brien had become familiar with the motorway, and from here the road ran straight into Brighton. Traffic did not seem to be a problem. He could count just a few headlights coming or going. On a Saturday night in the middle of the weekend one could figure that everyone was already where he or she wanted to be. He turned to Lucy’s brother. “How about a little more speed?”

  “We can do that.” The car shot forward with a surge of acceleration. O’Brien relaxed a small amount. At this rate they’d be at the rental apartment inside of thirty minutes.

  “Sis, you going to tell me what this whole thing’s about?” Eric repeated. He glanced back at Lucy through the rear- view mirror.

  “Well,” Lucy started, and slid into a peevish tone, as if her brother would never understand. “Daniel and I picked up an old 737 stuffed with cocaine in Fortaleza, Brazil. We flew that piece of crap to Liberia where the hydraulic system blew out. I got sick for a few days—I could’ve died, of course—and we ended up in this medical compound run by a psychopathic murderer.” She coughed. “I fell for him, naturally, and—”

  “Sis? What the hell?” Eric checked the mirror again with a look of disbelief. “Is this true?” He cut a glance at O’Brien.

  “I’m afraid it is,” O’Brien admitted as he took note of Eric’s short attention span at the wheel. He was comforted by the fact the road was straight.

  “Anyway,” Lucy continued, “I briefly fell for this murderous hack, but thank God we left after a while.” She paused for a breath. “There was a shootout at the airport as we tried to take off. A guy was machine-gunned to death next to Daniel and a Learjet crashed and burned on the runway. When we finally landed here in England we were chased by these thugs who murdered an old lady. We were arrested for the murder, but you know that part, and Daniel—the box of soap powder?”

  “Yeah,” he replied. “Tell him about it. A third of what’s in it belongs to you.”

  Lucy put both of her hands on the back of her brother’s seat. “Oh yeah, Eric, we’ve got about five million dollars’ worth of rough diamonds. That’s one of the reasons the thugs want us dead.” She sat back. “But fuck’em. They’re not going to get ’em.”

  “But that’s another story,” O’Brien added.

  Eric looked back again at his sister. His mouth hung slack and open. He tilted his head at O’Brien.

  “It’s true,” O’Brien said. “All of it.”

  “And I thought working for FedEx was exciting,” he mumbled. “All of those packages trying to get somewhere overnight...”

  No one spoke for several minutes. O’Brien opened his cell phone and just as quickly flipped it closed.

  “No service?” Lucy asked.

  “We’re in between coverage areas, I guess.”

  “We should be there in just a few minutes anyway,” Eric said.

  O’Brien studied Lucy’s brother in a sideways glance. The ability to react quickly might be important, along with intelligence and physical strength. He looked like he might have the qualities.

  “What?” Eric shot him a look.

  “Eric, let me explain about the men after us. They’re...” He searched for a word.

  “Trying to kill us,” Lucy broke in loudly.

  “Yeah. Lucy’s right. That’s the only way to put it. They’ve already tried once and I think they’ll keep at it.”

  “And tell him about Gina,” Lucy said. “He loves her, Eric.”

  “Lu, I haven’t said—”

  “Well, you do.”

  “I may need your help,” O’Brien said. “Lucy once told me you were a Black Belt. That true?” He caught the man’s nod. “What disciplines?”

  “Karate, kumite, some Muay Thai.”

  That was all good, although O’Brien didn’t relax. Muay Thai in its refined form emphasized kick boxing, but stripped from the formalities of ceremonial competition it was an excellent tool in street combat. “How far woul
d you be willing to go to defend Lucy, maybe give all of us a hand in the process?”

  “Are you kidding? I’ve been practicing for this all my life. I’d love to beat the shit out of anyone who’s been messing with my sister.”

  “I’ll accept that as a yes. But I want you to forget about the routine inside some neighborhood dojo, forget about any polite bullshit if we run across these men. They’ll try and kill you.” O’Brien watched his face. “There’s a certain...way that you have to look at things going in sometimes. That’s what I’m talking about. You have to be mentally prepared.”

  Eric nodded.

  “—to kill someone.”

  He nodded again, slower this time.

  “One of these guys is big, about your size. His face is all cut up. We saw him at the train station. He looks like he can take a lot of punishment. If you get close to him, try and kill him, because that’s what he’ll be trying to do to you.” O’Brien saw another nod. “The other two guys are not physical threats. One is a big bearded guy who caught a ricochet in his leg, so he’s not moving too well. But they may have weapons, so watch for them.”

  Lucy spoke up, “Daniel, I thought we weren’t particularly concerned about them finding us?”

  “I wasn’t, until all those cops confirmed what we thought all along, that we’ve bumped into some huge, criminal cartel. They mentioned it twice, so something’s going on here. If they’ve told us that much, think of what they haven’t told us. It could be the people who sent those killers after us already know our flight schedule out of here.”

  “How are you getting out of here?” Eric asked.

  “We’ve got reservations on Delta for Monday morning,” Lucy answered. “That’s all we could get.”

  “No way, Sis. You guys can come back with me tomorrow. I can guarantee you they can’t figure that one out.”

  “Can you get us on the flight?” O’Brien asked.

  Eric grinned. “I’m the captain. I’ll put you on the crew manifest.” He flicked a look at his sister in the mirror. “I’ll put Lucy in the crate with the lobsters.”