by Mark McKay
‘You see,’ he said, grinning. ‘Best security in the world. You can come out now. They won’t eat you while I’m around.’
It was late that same day when the backlash came. They’d just finished dinner. Magda had put Alix and Marielle to work in the greenhouses, they were watering plants and picking tomatoes. The work had taken Marielle’s mind off Louisa’s plight to a certain extent. She was relaxed enough to take an active part in the dinner conversation, and even laughed sometimes. They were just about to retire upstairs and leave Heinrich and Magda alone, when Max got the call.
‘Hello, Derek.’
It was one-sided for a few minutes after that. Conway was venting about something at great length. Eventually he ran out of steam.
‘OK, Derek,’ said Max. ‘I’m sorry, but it was necessary. Don’t give him my number, we’ll call him. First thing tomorrow. Just repeat those details for me, will you?’ He gesticulated for a pen and paper. Shortly afterwards he hung up and turned to the curious faces at the dinner table.
‘Didn’t take him long,’ he said to Nick. ‘Dubrovsky tested a sample of the drugs you delivered and found out they were vitamin C tablets. He contacted Conway, who promptly told him we must have switched them. Now Conway has the tape, he has no intention of replacing the vitamin C with another £300,000 worth of the real drug. And that’s what he told Dubrovsky.’
‘How did Dubrovsky take it?’
‘He wanted to talk to you, but fortunately Derek had the presence of mind to say he didn’t know how to contact us. He gave me the number Dubrovsky was using, though.’
‘That exhibition runs for a week, so perhaps he’ll stay in London. It seems like we’ve found a weak spot. If he wants the drugs badly enough, then he’ll trade Louisa for them. And this time, we’ll make damn sure it’s her.’
There was a village 20 minutes’ drive away from the estate. The following morning, Nick drove down there, in search of a pay phone. He found one in the post office. He dialled the number Max had given him. A woman answered.
‘Svetlana,’ she said. Then followed up with something in Russian, which went straight over his head.
‘Is Yulian Dubrovsky available?’
‘Ah, English. Who’s calling?’
‘Tell him I was at his exhibition the other night. I met a young woman there who gave me something.’
‘Yes, that was me. And you gave me nothing. So what do you want, now?’
‘It would be easier if I told him.’
‘Wait, please.’
He waited, for quite a while it seemed. Then Dubrovsky came on the line. There was no preamble.
‘I want the drugs I was promised,’ he said. ‘Is that why you’re calling? Have you reconsidered your position, perhaps?’
‘What do you think my position is?’
‘Very unstable. You took something that wasn’t yours to take. It’s in your best interests to return it.’
‘I want to return it,’ said Nick. ‘But I want something, too.’
‘Yes?’
‘I want Ms Bach’s daughter. And the remaining tapes. This time, we do it in public, no deception on your part. No goons to shut us up, afterwards. That’s what I want.’
Dubrovsky sighed. ‘If it was that simple, I would have given you the girl the first time. But as I told Ms Bach, there is too much media interest. Perhaps in a year from now it will be different. As for the tapes, I can offer you those in return for the drugs.’
‘No, not good enough. You have influence. Get her out.’
‘Mr Severance, I really can’t help you. But to make this as painless as possible, I’ll give you 250,000 euros, which was my original offer to Max. But this time for the drugs. I urge you to accept it.’
‘We don’t want money. I’ve told you what we want. Think about it. I’ll call you back tomorrow.’
‘That would be pointless. You just threw away your last option. If you won’t take the money, then the consequences rest with you. I’ll give you a day to think about it. If I hear nothing, I’ll make my own arrangements.’ He hung up.
Nick went back to the car. That didn’t go as planned, he thought. And how the hell did he know my name?
Chapter 11
‘He won’t do it,’ Nick told the group, when he got back to the house.
The four of them were in the upstairs reception room. Marielle was clearly upset.
‘Why not? I thought these drugs were important to him.’
‘He doesn’t have the influence. Same reasons he offered in Frankfurt. The best he can do is offer us money.’
‘Perhaps we should take his money. I could pay a lawyer to represent Louisa.’
‘If Dubrovsky can’t get her released, I don’t give much for your lawyer’s chances.’
Marielle looked crestfallen.
‘I’m sorry,’ said Nick. ‘He threatened me, too. If we don’t agree to the money in 24 hours there will be consequences.’
‘What consequences?’ asked Alix.
‘All it means is that he will try and recover the drugs. But as he doesn’t know where we are, he won’t be able to.’
‘The drugs are useless to us,’ said Max. ‘At least with the money we can still give the legal process a shot.’
‘There’s only one problem with that,’ said Alix. ‘How much did he offer you?’
‘Same as the first time. 250,000 euros.’
‘I looked into his assets. He doesn’t own property. And his salary isn’t huge by western standards. He has two bank accounts containing around $50,000, we think. His sculptures sell, but not for high prices. And he certainly isn’t an oligarch with millions stashed away somewhere. So where’s the money coming from?’
‘He could get it from the people on the tapes. But there isn’t time for that. Apart from Conway, nobody’s been contacted.’
‘If you’re right, then there isn’t any money,’ said Nick. ‘He’ll lure us into another Frankfurt situation. We already know we can’t trust the man. Did you find anything else we could use against him?’
Alix shook her head. ‘Not yet. There were plenty of women before Elena, but none since. From what we can glean, he dotes on her.’
‘Keep digging. Maybe he has other vices. Right now, looks like we’re at a dead end. I’ll wait a couple of days, then call his bluff. If the drugs really are that important to him, he’ll find a way to give us what we want.’
Nick waited the two days, hoping Alix would find something. Dubrovsky’s life in Archangel, before he moved to Moscow, would be hard to unravel. There were probably no skeletons in that particular cupboard. As a student in Moscow though, he might have done something rash. If he had, Alix didn’t know about it yet. They needed some kind of resolution. He could hardly go to Siberia and get Louisa by himself or recover the tapes from wherever they were; presumably Moscow. They had to strike a deal of some kind. So that at the very least, Max, Alix and Marielle could go back to their ordinary lives. After what Yuri had tried to do in Frankfurt though, he knew it was unlikely. Dubrovsky wouldn’t stop till everyone who knew he was a murderer had been eliminated. Perhaps it was time to stop reacting and take the offensive. He would make that decision after talking to Dubrovsky, tomorrow morning.
That night, around 2am, something woke him. He came out of a deep sleep to find himself sitting up in bed, fully alert. For a moment he couldn’t understand it, and then he clicked. There were people outside, he sensed it. Then he heard the dogs bark. He ran to the window, but couldn’t see anything. He was in the midst of getting dressed when he heard the first shot, followed closely by several others. He grabbed his gun and went out into the hall.
He banged on bedroom doors. Max emerged from his bedroom, gun in hand. When the two women opened up, he told them to stay where they were.
‘Lock your doors and keep the lights off,’ said Nick. He didn’t wait for an acknowledgement. He and Max rushed to the top of the stairs. After the shots, there was nothing now but an eerie silence.
They descended, slowly. There’d been no sound of anyone entering the house, as yet. Nick knew that the housekeeper, cook and a groundsman lived in a flat behind the main house. He hoped they had the presence of mind to stay where they were. Magda and Heinrich’s quarters were on the next floor down. They must have heard the commotion.
‘I’ll go and check on the von Essens,’ said Nick. ‘Don’t go outside.’
Max nodded and took up a position that afforded him some cover and a view of the front door. Nick ran across the hall and down the corridor. He was almost at their hosts’ bedroom door, when a voice sounded ahead of him.
‘Halt.’
It was Heinrich. He had a shotgun aimed at Nick. When he realised who it was, he slowly lowered it.
‘What’s going on?’
‘I don’t know. Where’s Magda?’
‘Inside. The door is locked.’
‘Just stay where you are. If anyone you don’t know comes this way, shoot them.’
‘With pleasure,’ replied Heinrich.
Nick made his way back, looking through the windows as he went. It was too dark to see anything. He heard the sound of glass shattering somewhere in the distance. When he reached the hallway, Max wasn’t there. He must have gone to investigate. It seemed as though the sound had come from the direction of the kitchen, one level down. The problem was that this was a big house, with numerous potential entry points. And he didn’t know how many men there were out there. He crossed the hall and went down the other corridor, which led to the dining room. He crouched down at a window, hoping his night vision had adjusted enough to see more clearly now. Then everything happened at once.
The outside lights came on. He heard shots from downstairs. And there was a small explosion, followed by the sound of the front door crashing to the floor. He heard footsteps rush into the house and go straight up the stairs. Two men, he thought. He sprinted back to the hall. When he got there it was just in time to see someone come out of the door that led down to the kitchen.
It was a man, dressed completely in black, head covered by a balaclava. Carrying what looked like an automatic pistol. He registered Nick’s presence, but by then it was too late. Nick fired twice, one in the chest and another in the head. The man staggered backwards like some faceless, drunken black wraith, and collapsed. There was no sign of Max.
‘Shit,’ breathed Nick, his heart racing. He tried to sense the presence of anyone else nearby, but couldn’t. So he went up the stairs, two at a time, gun poised. There was nobody at the top, or in the hallway. He heard the sound of raised voices coming from Alix’s room. She sounded almost hysterical. He moved forward as quietly as he could, towards her room. But as he was about to pass his bedroom, he heard someone moving around inside. The door was ajar and as he came level with it, the sounds of movement ceased. Before he could decide what to do, the door opened.
He was confronted by another black-clad figure wearing a balaclava. They were practically in each other’s faces and Nick saw the eyes behind the mask widen in alarm. It lasted a milli-second, before they narrowed again and the man raised his gun. Nick blocked the movement, while stepping to the right. It was enough to take him out of the firing line. The man pulled the trigger almost simultaneously, but he was off target. Nick lashed out with his free hand, driving the heel of his palm into his opponent’s nose. The man staggered back and before he could collect himself, Nick fired two shots into his chest. He didn’t need a third, the intruder hit the floor and stayed there. He had a carrier-bag still clutched in one hand, the contents of which were now strewn around him. Lots of bottles labelled as vitamin C tablets.
Nick walked over to the body, just to make sure there were no signs of life. At that moment there was another shot. Then the sound of someone sprinting past his room. He rushed back to the hallway, just in time to see another black-suited figure at the top of the stairs. Before Nick could fire the man was on his way down. Nick gave chase. He’d only taken a few steps when the sound of a shotgun blast rang out below. He reached the stairs and looked down. The man’s crumpled body lay at the bottom. He heard the sound of a gun-barrel snapping into place and then Heinrich came into view, shotgun raised.
‘It’s me,’ hissed Nick, withdrawing slightly in self-defence.
‘Are there more?’ asked Heinrich.
‘I don’t know. I doubt it, though. We’d have met them by now. Can you check the kitchen for me? Max went that way. And be careful.’
Heinrich nodded and moved away. Nick went back down the hall, listening. He was sure only two men had come up here. He knocked gently on Marielle’s door.
‘Marielle, it’s Nick. You OK? They’ve gone.’
She opened the door a crack. ‘Are you sure?’ There was shock on her face and fear in her eyes. ‘Where’s Alix?’
The door to Alix’s room was open. She was lying on the floor, on her back. There was a lot of blood coming from somewhere, but she was alive. He knelt down next to her.
‘Alix?’ He held her hand. Her eyes opened to look at him, and he could see they were focused more on the next world than this one. She was slipping away.
‘Sorry,’ she whispered. ‘They came to the library. They were going to kill Papa. They wanted to know who you were…’
Marielle arrived, gasped and then knelt down, too. She stroked Alix’s forehead and spoke soft and gentle words to her, in her own language.
‘Shh, Alix. Alles ist in Ordnung, mach dir keine Sorgen.’
‘In Heidelberg,’ said Alix. ‘When we were there, I…’ Her voice trailed away. She shuddered, and died.
Marielle looked up at Nick. A blank, uncomprehending look. ‘Why would anyone do this?’ She began to cry.
He said nothing, just put his arms around her and pulled her close. She cradled her head against his shoulder, quietly sobbing.
He heard footsteps approaching, then Heinrich’s voice.
‘Nick, where are you?’
‘In here.’
Heinrich came in, still holding the shotgun. His face, already grim, darkened even more when he saw Alix.
‘Bastards. How dare they come into my house and do this. Still, I think we got them all. Come with me, Nick.’
Nick gently prised himself away from Marielle.
‘Stay here,’ he said. ‘Look after her.’
He went downstairs with Heinrich, fearing the worst. Heinrich said nothing, just led the way to the kitchen. There he found Max, face down in pool of blood. Nick turned him over, with Heinrich’s help. It was obvious that Max Blackwood was beyond any earthly assistance, now. His broad face, with its easy charm, was disfigured by a neat hole through the forehead. Nick sat next to the man he’d come to regard as a friend and rested his hand on his chest.
‘Sorry, Max.’ He looked up at Heinrich. ‘I was supposed to look after him.’
‘Don’t blame yourself. They would have killed us all. I must go to Magda, now. Then I must make sure the staff are OK.’
Nick got up. ‘I’m going outside.’
He didn’t go out the front door. He used the kitchen door, so he could walk around to the side of the house and approach the front of it indirectly. There could still be someone out there, just waiting. But he knew his radar would have sensed them by now. He trod carefully, anyway. He found the three dogs just out of range of the outside lights. They were lying dead, a few yards away from each other. But they’d done their job. A fourth intruder lay semi-upright with his back against a tree, not far from the dogs. His throat had been torn out. Nick shivered. He went back to the house. Heinrich was in the entrance hall, talking to his staff. He had his arm around a shocked Magda. He watched Nick approach.
‘The dogs?’
Nick shook his head. ‘Shot. Not before they killed one man, though.’
‘I should call the police. What will we tell them?’
‘Wait an hour or two. I’m going back to Marielle, then we
’ll talk.’
He went back up the stairs, his steps and his heart both heavy with loss.
They moved Max’s body back to his room. He was laid on the bed and then Nick covered him with a blanket. They did the same for Alix. Marielle was with Magda in the dining room. The cook and the housekeeper were cleaning up the kitchen, while the groundsman did his best to get the front door back on its hinges. The bodies of their uninvited guests were left where they had fallen. The cook was insisting on making a meal, though no one had an appetite. Heinrich and Nick finished upstairs and went to the dining room.
Marielle was distraught. When Nick had told her about Max, she had gone deathly quiet. No tears, just a look of pure despair. Now she was kneeling on the floor, with Magda sat facing her. The two of them held hands while Marielle rocked back and forth, repeating something Nick couldn’t catch. She looked up as Nick came in.
‘I did this,’ she said. ‘I did this.’
Magda looked at him, then. He saw both sadness and anger in her look.
‘I’m sorry,’ he said.
She ignored him and turned back to Marielle. Heinrich came over, holding a glass of what looked like whisky.
‘Give her this,’ he said.
Nick took the glass, but before he could give it to Marielle, Magda had taken it from him. She held it up to Marielle and said something in German that sounded almost like a command. Then she held the glass to Marielle's lips. Marielle did as she was told, sipping the whisky like a child taking medicine.
Heinrich had poured one for each of them. He and Nick sat away from the women, at the dining table.
‘How did they find us?’ asked Heinrich.
‘I don’t know,’ lied Nick. ‘I have to take Marielle away from here. And you should ask for police protection for a while.’
‘I still don’t know what I’m going to tell the police.’
‘Just tell them the truth. Four men tried to break in and kill you. You don’t know why, but it had something to do with your guests. You acted in self-defence. Your guests were killed as they tried to defend themselves. Say nothing about Marielle and me.’