She concentrated on going with the current and swimming at a steady pace. When she looked behind, the light from the chamber had already grown much smaller and faint, indicating the water must be running fast. She strained for the echo of voices to show the men had returned and she heard nothing except the lapping of the water along the sides of the tunnel and the splash of her own strokes. In the dark, a terror started to take root that she’d never make it. It grew quickly, its tendrils infiltrating like an infection. If this tunnel went all the way to the east side of London to the treatment plants, she’d drown from exhaustion way before she got there.
She must conserve her energy. So she stopped swimming and instead kept afloat, moving along by the force of the current. She removed her shoes, jumper and trousers - their weight would fatigue her faster than anything. After, she trailed her left hand along the wall. She could feel the texture of the bricks and the rough joints and realised that the level of the water no longer rose because her hand kept along the same row of bricks and her speed seemed to have slowed. She could only cover one wall because the tunnel was too wide to trail her opposing hand at the same time, but if there were any side tunnels or changes in the brickwork to signal an escape on this side, she would be able to feel them.
The water had already sucked all the heat from her body. Kal alternated floating on her back and then on her front. She wracked her brain for information on London's sewer system - built in the Victorian era, before its construction, the Thames had been an open sewer and parliament, sitting right on the bank of the Thames, had to practically close down during the summer of the 'Great Stink'. She felt a change in the current, as if the tunnel branched and just then her fingers caught on something. She stopped, working against the flow and bringing both hands to examine the wall where she located four, smooth cables running parallel along the length of the tunnel. She vaguely remembered a news item about a fibre optic company running their cabling system in the sewers. Which meant there’d be maintenance access to the cables.
She tried not to think that it might not be for several miles. Her fingers were numb and she couldn’t feel her feet. But the four cables offered a chance.
She had no idea how long she swam in the dark. There were several changes in the current to indicate junctions off to the right, but she always stayed with the four cables on the left hand wall. Her mind clung to the broken silver ear-ring and the orange fragment. Those images kept her going.
After an age, as the hope of finding an escape dwindled, only a few thoughts remained. What had happened to Marty? Was she dead? The scrap of material showed Alesha had been in the chamber. Were they both dead? The same torment of questions circled around and around, unanswered and unanswerable, like a ring of vultures closing in on their failing victim.
The life got sucked out of the jewellery until she could no longer recall the real shape of the ear-ring. Exhaustion beckoned, turning her mind to mush. The orange lingered on as a haze. She’d swim for an eternity to grasp that scrap from her mother’s dress. As if she were reaching for her mother’s hand. As if she could grasp her mother and pull her back from whatever abyss she teetered on. Or was it Alesha reaching out to her, to save her from drowning?
When she had no more strength, a faint, insidious undertow tugged at her legs. With a splosh, her hand fell from the cables. It startled her, jolting her back to the present. She inched along the wall, groping for those four lines of hope. They'd disappeared.
Clawing against the brickwork, Kal dragged herself back one brick at a time. One brick. Then one brick more. Then one more. She wouldn't be able to continue. She wanted to give up. Her head went under and she took in a lungful and fought spluttering to the surface. Her legs like lead. She was going under. One brick more. Then her fingers found the smooth plastic of the cables and she realised why she'd lost track of them - it was because they took a turn upwards.
She clung to the bricks with her fingers, her nails, searching, pressing her cheek against the rough surface. It was her elbow which hit something first. Something hard jutting out of the surface of the wall. She clung to it like the lifeline it was and hauled herself onto that first rung of the ladder. Then up, up, in the pitch black. Her body felt like a dead weight. Her arms and legs shook and above her she could see a faint something which, as she climbed higher, turned into the merest crescent of a sliver of light.
When she finally reached the man hole cover, it took her several heaves to push aside the hatch, and when she eventually managed, she crawled out and collapsed on a suburban roadside.
Chapter Fifty-two
It was a deserted housing estate, with lamp posts illuminating a line of parked cars. Kal lay on the ground, and when she had enough strength, she pushed the man hole cover back in place with her legs. The last thing she wanted was her captors finding their way to her.
She wondered if she passed out, because next time she looked up, a middle aged couple approached. They were hesitant at first, then as they came nearer, they picked up their pace and ran. She felt cold. So very cold.
“What the hell happened!” asked the man.
“Have you been assaulted? Trevor, call the police!” The woman’s voice was full of alarm. “And call an ambulance!”
There was a trace of alcohol on the man’s breath, and judging by the woman's dress, they'd been at a dinner party.
“I'm all right, there's no need, it’s not like it looks.”
Kal got to her knees and tried pushing up to stand and didn't make it. The man took off his jacket and placed it around her shoulders. He pulled her up, then held her steady.
“You’re freezing. Take it easy now,” he said.
“I know something dreadful has happened,” said the woman. “You don’t need to tell us what but I’m calling the police and we need to get you somewhere safe and warm and dry. You can come back with us, can't she Trevor?”
“Of course she can, come on love, we don't live far and I'm not letting you walk around in a state like this.”
Her teeth were chattering. “That's very kind only what I need right now is to get to my friends and family. It's an emergency.”
The couple looked doubtful. Kal put her hand on the woman’s arm. “Really, there's no need for the emergency services. Please, can I use your phone?”
“Course you can,” the woman said.
Kal managed to walk a few paces away. As she dialled, she checked the time on the screen. It was three o'clock in the morning.
Marty’s number rang and rang. The longer it rang, the more panic clawed at her. The next number she tried was LeeMing. He picked up straight away.
“It's me, it’s Kal.”
“I've been looking for you for hours and Spinks has got half the police in London out searching. Are you safe?”
“Yes, I need you to come and pick me up. They held me prisoner in the sewers.” Kal heard LeeMing hesitate. “Something terrible has happened, hasn't it? Please, LeeMing, just tell me straight.”
“They made a strike on the nursing home and the Triad warned them off,” LeeMing said, “there's no way they'll try that again, don’t worry, Nannie's safe and sound.”
There was more, she could sense it.
“We decided to post someone in Nannie’s room, a woman of course, and your grandmother found the whole thing exciting…”
That was a diversion, the happy news before the bad, she could hear it in his voice. LeeMing took an audible breath, exactly the same as she did when she needed to compose herself.
“… prepare yourself, I’ve got bad news…”
Her whole body started trembling.
“… they attacked Marty.”
Her knees buckled and the couple rushed over and propped her up. Kal pressed the phone to her ear.
“She's barely alive. She spent six hours in the operating theatre and the doctors don't know if she'll regain consciousness, and if she does, then there'll be the question of brain damage...”
Chapter Fif
ty-three
LeeMing's knuckles were tight on the steering wheel. “They beat the life out of her. Probably they intended to capture her and when she fought back they went for the kill, no question. It's her own skill that saved her. That, and the fact they must’ve decided a gun shot was too risky in a built-up area. They left her for dead. Good thing she had luck on her side - it was a man walking his dog who raised the alarm, and then he stemmed the worst of the bleeding until the ambulance arrived.”
The good people of London – reserved and yet Samaritans at heart. Like the couple who'd found her, who'd insisted on taking her back to their house for a hot shower and soup and dry clothes and then plied her with fish and chips whilst they waited for LeeMing to arrive.
Kal respected LeeMing’s honesty. He was a man of depths. She stared out of the window as the anguish shattered the last of her carefully built defences. No, no, not Marty. A desire for revenge arose from the depths. It screamed like a Valkyrie, drowning out everything else, and tearing her insides to shreds.
***
They made it back in less than half an hour. Located south-west of the Thames, in Tooting, St George’s Hospital had an international reputation, and was one of the most eminent hospitals in the capital.
The Staff Sister in Intensive Care welcomed them kindly. “Ms King's family are at her bedside at the moment, so if you wouldn't mind waiting, and there's a Detective Inspector Spinks in my office once you've finished.”
On the other side of the glass, Marty lay surrounded by machines. Multiple leads trailed from her body to monitors, and translucent lines ran from her arms to suspended bags of fluid. Kal’s gut twisted. Marty hung between life and death because of her. If Marty lived, she could spend the rest of her life like a vegetable.
Marty's mother sat with a bowed head and Kal guessed she was reciting prayers, since she knew her to be devoutly Christian. She couldn’t face Marty’s mother. No, she just didn’t have the courage. By the bed, she recognised Marty's older brother, Vince. He spotted her through the glass and exited the room, softly closing the door behind him.
The words jammed in her throat. Nothing but a small sound escaped, and when Vince embraced her, she burst into tears. After a few moments, she pulled back and Vince searched her face, holding her at arm’s length.
“If you've any idea who did this to Marty, you'd better tell me,” Vince said.
Kal wiped her eyes. The sudden tears had calmed her. She no longer wanted to scream and scream and weep.
LeeMing leaned against the glass pane and Vince switched his questioning gaze between them.
“You don't know anything? Not either of you?”
Kal shook her head.
“Well, I'll let Mum know you're here, it will be a great comfort to her.”
Once Vince left, Kal met LeeMing's eyes and a silent communication passed between them. Yes, they were two of a kind, she thought, and they would resolve this themselves. For Marty.
Chapter Fifty-four
Click. The dead bolts on Scott's front door smacked home behind Kal’s back. Scott wore immaculate, black, pressed trousers and a pristine, mottled grey shirt, looking as if he'd moments before stepped from an expensive, Saville Row tailor. Perhaps a visit to the barber had also formed part of his preparations, since Scott’s personal grooming appeared ever more meticulous. She judged this augured of a final confrontation. Good.
Senses on high alert and nerves taut like strings on a bow, her own stilettoes tapped incongruously loud as she walked down the hallway. The air smelled of firewood and very faintly of aftershave. In agreeing to come here, she knew Scott anticipated to kill her. Time itself seemed to slow, elongating each moment.
“Good evening,” Scott said, “you're as beautiful as ever in that dress.”
She'd chosen a gold, off-the-shoulder number, which hugged her legs to mid-thigh. One of her favourites. Wasn’t it always best to go down in style?
“I chose it to mark the occasion.”
Scott smiled, exposing his perfectly white teeth. On some level they both had the same understanding. This would be their last encounter, winner takes all.
Scott led them to the lounge, and Kal studied the set of his shoulders and upper back. No tension, no stress, Scott walked with perfect confidence. A mirror of her own composure.
In the lounge, the fire blazed in the hearth with flames dancing red and orange. She scanned the room, her own body so reactive it played flashes of hot and cold across her back. Tonight Scott was going to display who he really was.
“You have the money ready I hope?” she said.
“Half in cash and the rest to be transferred to an account of your choice at the touch of a keyboard.”
He continued through to the kitchen, where he took two wine glasses. The glasses touched briefly and gave a bright ting, as Scott placed them on the counter top, right next to the black control unit.
“Before we go ahead with the transfer of funds, I’ve something you might want to see.”
Yes, there it was. He would expose his true nature. The menace in Scott’s voice had no effect on her, though for a moment it reminded her of the line she’d been forced to cross. She felt bold and sure, every inch of her David Khan’s daughter. The gun tapped lightly against her inside leg, strapped against her thigh. Of course, Scott’s arrogance meant he’d not searched her. Her act at being helpless had left its mark.
Scott uncorked a bottle of wine, and the red liquid gurgled as he poured it out. She thought of Spinks and his team - poised to move simultaneously on Assad's residence, on Vankova, Kealy, Greeves and DeVille, all she needed was one tiny bit of evidence to set the whole train in motion. If she needed more unconventional backup, LeeMing waited nearby. Again, she’d refused a hidden microphone, leaving the way open for her own choices. Kal accepted the wine and raised her glass.
“To success,” she said.
“To success and… absent friends.”
Her back flashed to burning hot. Rein it in, she told herself, wait for your moment.
She raised an eyebrow. “What is it you’d like me to see?”
“You've been quite smart, much cleverer than you look, in fact, but you're no match for me. You should have taken our original offer when you had the chance.”
Scott took a stool at the bar and Kal pulled out a chair at the dining table and sat down.
“I don't know what you mean,” she said.
“Oh, what a wonderful game player you are, it’s been so entertaining.” Scott sipped his wine. “You see, killing your grandfather was a great satisfaction to me, and I thought it would sate my desire for revenge. What I found was that, on the contrary, it increased my appetite for it. How curious life can be.”
“What's so clever about killing an innocent man?”
“He was guilty.” Scott’s voice racked up a notch. “He had the blood of my father on his hands. I was there the night my father's throat was cut. It was your grandfather, a mere servant, who stirred trouble and took it upon himself to decide my father’s fate. How dare he even have opened his mouth in my father’s presence!”
A fleck of spit flew from Scott's lips. The madness was beginning to show. Kal placed her glass carefully on the table.
“As I recall, your father was a paedophile.”
“You have such a narrow view of life - I despise you and everyone like you. My father was a great man. He made me his apprentice. In his bedroom, he kept a huge mahogany wardrobe – a wonderful, colonial masterpiece. I hid there to watch him enacting his whims on children. It was my initiation, my liberation from the boring, narrow confines of human sex. I think he became aware I observed him, though he never spoke of it. Occasionally, I felt he performed for my benefit. The agony and the subjugation of his subjects gave me a thrill beyond imagining, beyond any intoxicant. It was an elixir.”
Scott’s eyes took on a glassy intensity.
Her skin flashed cold.
“You're a hardened, child sex offender. A s
ick sadist. You need help.”
“No one can take this away from me, it's what I live for.” Frothy saliva collected at the corners of his mouth.
“So why continue sending death threats?”
“And why not? Like I said, I got a taste for it, and better to kill a whole family than simply one mediocre member, besides, it’s such fun observing how people cower when they know they’re being stalked, how people scuttle like insects for safety. One simple letter can cause years of torture and misery.”
“You’re insane. A perverted, remorseless killer.”
Scott leaned back and took another sip of wine. “David Khan was a nuisance. He got in the way of more than one attempt on your grandmother’s life, and on your mother’s, so I was glad his enemies finished him off. I wasn't complicit in his death, though I would’ve liked to have been, although after that, the snoopy detective who didn’t buy the story of David Khan’s ‘accident’ made things awkward. It meant I had to back off. So collecting all the little details about your tedious lives turned into a game. You can't imagine how delirious I was, the day fate brought your mother to ScottBioTec. Destiny crossed our bloodlines again. It was an opportunity begging for the taking.”
Emotion had over-taken Scott, ripping away the mask. His nostrils flared. “Now get up and lift aside this table.”
Scott indicated the dining table at which she sat, and at which the two of them had dined for the Indian banquet. My god, she’d searched the entire house and Scott had a compartment concealed underneath her feet. One hundred percent true to his twisted profile.
Kal moved her chair and helped lift the table away, exposing the stretch of parquet flooring.
“Be my guest,” Scott snarled, and he indicated she should crouch.
Uniform squares of wood made up the parquet. The squares were most likely made of oak because they’d worn extremely well, she had seen that on her first visit. If a seam existed, it had been expertly concealed. Kal swept her palm from side to side. Nothing. Was it possible Scott toyed with her? This time, she didn’t think so. She continued searching until her fingers detected the tiniest of imperfections.
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