Król, who he could now clearly see driving the car, swung it round in a wide arc and pulled it to a halt several yards from where Jake stood before turning off the engine and extinguishing the headlights.
For a moment, nothing happened. Then Arthur Khan, in a dark roll neck and a black crombie coat, opened the rear passenger door and climbed out. He walked perhaps ten or fifteen paces in front of the car and stopped around fifteen feet away from Jake. Then, unbelievably, Peter Bearing got out of the front passenger side and strolled casually up next to Khan. He was wearing a grey suit and looked impeccable, as if he was going on from there to a cocktail party. Jake stood facing them, in a jumper, jeans and hiking boots. This was the only party he would be attending tonight. He just hoped it wouldn’t turn into a wake.
“I trust you have brought my diamonds, Mister Sawyer?” Bearing shouted.
“You’ve brought Lizzie?” Jake shouted back.
“We have.”
“Let me see her.”
Bearing nodded to Khan who then glanced back at the Range Rover and shouted, “Król, he wants to see the girl!”
Fabian Król opened the driver’s door of the vehicle and stepped out, then he went round to the boot and pulled Lizzie out, leaving Anya’s bagged-up corpse where it lay, concealed from Bearing’s sight.
With his butterfly knife, Król cut Lizzie’s ankles free but left her hands tied securely behind her back. She looked bruised and tired but otherwise alright and Jake breathed a huge sigh of relief.
Król pushed her roughly up to where Bearing and Khan stood midway between Jake and the Range Rover. “Hey, Limey,” she said rather croakily, her eyes full of emotion.
“You okay, Lizzie?” Jake called. “Have they hurt you?”
“I’m fine, Jake. I am, really. I’m not hurt–”
“I’m sorry to break up the happy reunion,” Bearing interjected. “But, please, Mister Sawyer, we’ve shown you ours, as they say, now let us see yours.”
Jake hesitated a moment longer. “Now.” Khan growled. We haven’t got all night.”
“Please, Arthur,” Bearing said. “I’m sure Mister Sawyer grasps the gravity of the situation, don’t you?” He looked at Jake. “So please, you’ve made us wait long enough and you’ve played a very good game. But now the time for games is over. Show me the diamonds, Mister Sawyer or, as they say in the movies, your girlfriend gets it.”
Jake shrugged off the rucksack and put it on the floor in front of him. He then opened it and pulled out the case of diamonds which he placed on the muddy ground, next to the empty rucksack. He snapped open the clasps, lifted the lid and turned it round to face Bearing and Khan. However, the diamonds were still in their individual compartments, within their velvet bags.
“Show us properly, Sawyer,” said Khan. “Stop stalling.”
Jake pulled open a compartment and lifted out a small velvet pouch. He tugged open the drawstring fastening and emptied a small amount of stones into the palm of his hand. They glistened and sparkled enticingly and Khan physically had to stop himself from licking his lips. Even Król was briefly mesmerised by the enticing glitter of the stones as they twinkled hypnotically in the moonlight.
“Satisfied?” Jake asked.
“Almost,” replied Bearing. “How many are missing?”
“Pardon?”
“Come now, Mister Sawyer. You’ve flown several times around the world, stayed in the best hotels, lived on a paradise island in an exclusive resort - even bought a Maserati, I understand. I take it none of that was free of charge. So I ask again, how many of my diamonds are missing, Mister Sawyer?”
“Fourteen,” Jake replied. “Just fourteen small ones, that’s all.”
“Fourteen. That’s all,” Bearing repeated. “How very frugal of you. How very thoughtful of you.”
Jake said nothing.
“Please - pass the case to Mister Król, would you?” Bearing said. Jake packed the diamonds back into the case and closed the lid, then said, “First, give me Lizzie.”
“No. Mister Sawyer. First you give Mister Król the case so we can check the merchandise properly. Then and only then, if everything is in order, will I return Elizabeth to you.”
“No,” Jake said. “Lizzie first, then the diamonds.”
“I’m sorry, Mister Sawyer, you seem to misunderstand. That was not a request.” Bearing then turned again to Khan. “Arthur, if you would be so kind.”
Khan then reached into his coat and pulled out his huge chrome Magnum, which he pointed at Jake. Król also pulled out a pistol and aimed it in the same direction.
“Now, Mister Sawyer,” said Bearing, “If you would be so kind?”
Faced with no other choice, Jake held out the case. Król walked the short distance to him, leaving Lizzie with Khan. He smiled evilly at Jake as he took the case from him. “You not escape so easily now, I think.” Król whispered. And Jake guessed that he could be right.
Król carried the case back and gave it to Bearing, who took it over to the Range Rover and placed it on the bonnet. He opened the lid and began checking random compartments and bags.
“They’re all there. I swear it.” Jake called.
“Wrong, Mister Sawyer!” Bearing flared, spinning to face Jake once more, his normally calm composure replaced by sudden anger. “They are not all here, are they. The case is fourteen diamonds short, you have admitted it yourself. Fourteen, Mister Sawyer! Fourteen pieces of my property which you stole from me, which I will never get back.”
Jake was suddenly very fearful, sensing what was about to happen, he stared into Lizzie’s frightened eyes as he spoke again to Bearing. “I’m sorry, I know there are some missing but please, you have killed my wife, my children - you have taken Lizzie’s brother and father from her - we have both paid a terrible price for those diamonds. Please just take the case and let us go.”
Arthur Khan was smiling as Bearing replied, “You think that was payment?”
Jake said nothing.
“Yes,” Bearing continued, “Arthur here did kill your family. But it was not as payment. It was because you stole from us Mister Sawyer. And yes, I framed Jonathan Wallace but that had nothing to do with the diamonds - that was just business. He was a hindrance - an annoyance that had to be removed and I did what was needed to be done. For The Company. So do not tell me you have already paid Mister Sawyer, because I assure you that you have not.” Bearing looked almost insane as he finished, drunk on his own power, high on his own importance.
“I have nothing more to give you,” Jake said. “There is nothing more I own. Please, just take the diamonds and let us go.”
“Oh, I will take the diamonds, thank you, Mister Sawyer. But you will not be let go. As I said, you owe me a debt and I fully intend to make you pay.” For a final time he glanced over at Khan and said, “Arthur, kill them for me, would you? There’s a good fellow.”
Chapter 46
Six hours earlier, Dave Eckhart was standing in the toilets at New Scotland Yard, studying his worry worn face in the mirror. He was twenty-eight but felt much older. The last months had been a living hell with the guilt of betraying his mentor, Roper Coyle, weighing heavily on his mind. Coyle was a man Eckhart not only trusted above all others but also regarded as a good friend. However, the simple fact was that Dave was desperate for money and he thought that solving his financial problems would be the key to saving his crumbling marriage. So he stupidly reached out to Peter Bearing.
But he had been a misguided fool. Dave knew now that his marriage could not be saved no matter how much money he had and certainly not by betraying his friends, colleagues and his own highly prized principles.
His wife, Lucy, was leaving him and taking their daughter, Gemma with her. That was now, unfortunately, an inevitable fact and Dave had at last realised it was not the money that had been the problem, it was just him and Lucy
. They had married far too young, before either of them had really done any living and now they had out grown each other.
Dave had tried to save the marriage by gambling what little money they did have in a last ditch attempt to generate more but it had been a hopelessly flawed strategy which had ultimately landed him in more debt. The drinking, too, which briefly eased the stress, left him further out of pocket and desperate to get out from under the immense pressure being put on him, he had made an even worse decision.
Dave realised what an idiot he had been in accepting Peter Bearing’s money. He hated himself for phoning Bearing to tell him about the evidence that Aaron Sumpter had gathered on him and Arthur Khan which was kept at Sumpter’s home in Hampstead. Dave had found this intelligence out from Roper who had received a confidential call from the elusive Jake Sawyer, telling Coyle all about it. Eckhart’s information had been instrumental in the destruction of this vital evidence and now because of his selfishness, Bearing and Khan could quite literally get away with murder.
Dave had always been a good copper. Police work was in his veins, it was what he lived for, but he had thrown it all away just for a few hundred lousy pounds. It was over; his marriage and his career. And now he was in much deeper than he had ever intended to be with the stakes rising with every passing hour.
* * *
Down the hall, Roper Coyle was sitting at his desk, wondering why he had not yet heard from Jake Sawyer. Jake had called him on his way back to England, and told him that he was going to retrieve some evidence from Sumpter’s house as soon as he arrived back. He also said that he would call Roper when he had it in his possession.
That call was supposed to have come this afternoon, as agreed. But as yet, Coyle had heard nothing.
Roper looked up to see Eckhart arriving back at his desk and thought that his young sergeant looked pale and unwell. Like death warmed up.
“You okay, Dave?” Roper asked.
But as Eckhart opened his mouth to speak, Coyle’s phone started ringing and he held up a hand to silence Dave as he lifted the handset. “Hello?” Roper said, still looking at Eckhart curiously. Something was clearly troubling him. But the older man’s focus now shifted to the telephone. “This is Detective Chief Inspector Coyle, can I help you?”
“Coyle, it’s me,” Jake said, “And you’d better tell me what the bloody hell is going on.”
Chapter 47
Arthur Khan still kept a tight hold on Lizzie, even though she struggled desperately to be free. He grinned widely as he took aim at Jake with the big shiny Desert Eagle. “You know, Sawyer,” he said, “Your son had the same look in his eyes when I killed him.”
Jake was about to respond, when suddenly, with dazzling white intensity, the building site was bathed in brilliant light as somebody switched on the huge halogen work lights which floodlit the immediate vicinity, making it seem like night had magically turned to day.
Khan, Król and Bearing were temporarily blinded as a mechanical voice spoke loudly to them through a megaphone. “This is the police.” Coyle said. “Drop your weapons you are surrounded.”
Then bedlam ensued as Król and Khan started shooting and the police marksmen, who had been hiding within the shadows of the complex, were forced to return fire. A multitude of police cars suddenly screamed into view with their blue lights flashing, from where they had been lurking just out of view in the underground parking facility.
Król was blasting wildly about him as he ran back towards the car for cover. Bearing, unarmed, followed suit, keeping low, trying to avoid being hit by Król.
“Lizzie, get down!” Jake shouted as he dived for cover behind an abandoned digger. But Khan held onto Lizzie tightly as he dragged her off towards a deserted part of the building. He was firing the Magnum in all directions as he rushed into the shadows behind a huge section of plastic sheeting that was secured to the scaffolding.
The crackle of gunfire continued as the police tactical unit, headed by Roper Coyle moved forward, from where they had been hiding out of sight, into the open muddy battle ground to take control of the situation. Coyle was wearing a kevlar vest as was Dave Eckhart who was behind him, keeping low.
“Coyle, quick!” Jake shouted. “Khan’s getting away - he ran into the building with Lizzie!”
Coyle heard and was about to go after Khan when a bullet buzzed past his ear and he was forced to dive for cover behind a squad car that had just skidded to a halt in front of him.
The young policeman driving the vehicle was not so lucky as Król’s next shot struck the officer directly between the eyes, killing him instantly.
Coyle, with Eckhart huddling beside him, returned fire, enraged by the terrible thing he had just witnessed but his anger had affected his aim and his first shot missed as Król continued to flee, shooting his semi-automatic wildly over his shoulder as he ran.
Slowly, Roper took aim and fired again. This time though he did not miss. He brought Król down just short of the Range Rover with a bullet to the leg.
Jake, still fearing for Lizzie, saw Król fall but was astounded as the Polish assassin continued firing, seemingly immune to the pain of the wound which was pissing blood, like oil from a pierced barrel.
A shot narrowly missed Coyle, keeping him pinned down, but Eckhart leapt free of the cover and rushed forward, growling like some insane beast, firing his police issue pistol at the injured, yet still extremely dangerous Pole, some distance away.
Król’s attention was forced onto Eckhart as his charging figure sped towards him. As Król dragged himself backwards, his injured limb completely useless, Roper Coyle could see from his vantage point that the wounded man had the look about him of a trapped animal, still dangerous, still angry and clearly determined not to surrender. Król raised the semi-automatic as Dave Eckhart’s rushing form loomed above him and was rewarded to hear the click of the sergeant’s spent weapon as he desperately tried to fire off another round, all his others having somehow missed. Król smiled. This was too easy.
But as his finger closed around the trigger, Fabian Król’s fight finally ended as Coyle shot him dead. Blood pooled from the neat, round hole in the centre of Król’s chest as he slumped lifelessly into the mud, the shock in his eyes still clear to see.
Coyle rushed over to Król and kicked his firearm away before making certain that he was dead. Eckhart stood panting above the body, suddenly aware of how close to dying he had come.
“You were very brave there, Dave,” Roper said to him. “But not too bright.”
“Yep.” Eckhart said. He couldn’t have agreed more.
* * *
Peter Bearing scrambled madly over the uneven ground, his hand made Italian loafers slipping in the mud and the trousers of his immaculately cut suit all smeared with dirt.
Somehow he made it back to the Range Rover, where he cowered behind the open boot, sheltering from the hail of bullets that were buzzing like flies between Coyle and Król. One struck the brake light just above his head and ricocheted off, narrowly missing his temple, as the glass exploded over him, forcing him to cower even lower.
As he crouched behind the car, he glanced up into the open boot and saw the long black package, bound with brown parcel tape, that had the distinct shape of a body lying on its side with its knees up and Bearing inexplicably knew that’s what it was. With awakening fear, an instinctive feeling deep in the pit of his stomach also told him who it was and suddenly he was desperate to find out for sure.
Staying low, he reached up to the head of the package and tugged vigorously at the plastic which after some struggle, finally ripped open. Peter tore it wide apart to reveal a hole the size of a dinner plate and was horrified to be confronted by the gruesome image of Anya’s grey, lifeless face; her cold, vacant eyes staring straight at him from the hole in the plastic cocoon.
The vomit rose quickly in Bearing’s throat as he threw up be
hind the car, surprised by how much her death affected him or, indeed, at finally realising how much she had actually meant to him. They were kindred spirits, she and him, if Peter ever allowed himself to believe such overly emotional hogwash. However, at the back of his mind, he also felt strangely vindicated. He had never really accepted Król’s story about Anya not turning up at the mews house in Chelsea as agreed, or, indeed, Arthur’s theory that she had chosen to go shopping instead.
Anya was not prone to flights of fancy and when she set out to do something, she invariably did it.
As he contemplated Król’s role in all of this, Bearing wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, removing any last remnants of puke along with the brief moment of sentimentality he felt as a result of her passing.
Composing himself once more, he stared into the girl’s dead eyes. “Oh, Anya,” he said flatly, “You really were a nasty little girl, weren’t you? What did you do to make Król want to kill you?”
Only then did he become aware that the shooting had stopped and that several people were now surrounding him. He turned quickly hoping to make a run for it but immediately realised it would be futile as four armed policemen stood menacingly over him.
“Well, well, well,” said one big, kevlar-vested constable, “What exactly have we got here?”
Peter Bearing was still cowering behind the open boot as that same member of Coyle’s team slapped on the handcuffs.
* * *
Coyle searched about him, looking for Jake, but he was nowhere to be seen. “Gibson!” He shouted to the man cuffing Bearing, “Have you seen Sawyer?”
“Yes, Guv.” Said the officer. “He ran into the building after Khan - I think Sergeant Eckhart’s just gone in there too.”
Chapter 48
Arthur Khan was very nearly carrying Lizzie as he hurried into the deserted building. Dragging her roughly through the maze of construction debris, passed stacks of wood and piles of breeze block, passed cement mixers and scaffolding. Lizzie resisted as much as she could but Khan was strong and determined and her efforts were useless.
Finders Keepers Page 27