A Fatal Façade

by Linda M. James

  But it wasn’t only the lack of time to organize the op that was making Jack edgy; Bianca hadn’t been in contact about her whereabouts after her initial phone call. Something had happened. He tried not to think of the worst scenarios. He should never have allowed her to become involved. What was he thinking of? These guys were drug dealers; she was a nightclub singer. How could she know the depths to which drug dealers could sink? But even as he was thinking such thoughts, he knew he was being disingenuous. How could he have got any information about the dealers from Rico without her? He thought of all the kids he had seen dying from overdoses. He didn’t have any choice, did he? If Bianca hadn’t become involved, they would have killed Rico and Jack would never have flushed them out. But he could have made contact with the gang himself, couldn’t he? He could have done it without her. His thoughts were driving him mad. It was the waiting that was a killer; it was always like this before an op. Bianca wanted to help Rico, he reasoned. It wasn’t his fault she was involved. She could have said no. He didn’t force her. God, you’re doing it again – trying to justify involving an innocent person.

  He turned to look at Lucy. She was very pale; he couldn’t tell in the lamplight whether she was nervous for him or it was caused by her illness. He went over and sat beside her wheelchair and held her hand.

  Mary peered over her reading glasses at them and got up. ‘I’m going to make some tea. Like some, Jack?’

  ‘No, thanks. I’ve got to go out soon to see someone.’ He gave her the same reassuring smile he’d given to Tom. It seemed to work. She smiled at him before going into the kitchen.

  ‘I’m working with the best team the Met has, Luc. You know that, so there’s nothing to worry about.’

  youre speaking 2 me not tom she typed

  ‘Sorry. You know the nightclub singer I told you about? Since she rang me to say that one of the gang contacted her, she’s not been in contact again. They want to meet me at a pub near Cellini’s apartment. I asked her if she was okay and she sounded odd. Christ knows what they’re doing to her or planning for the team. But I’m the one with the trump card, Luc. They won’t get to the drugs without me. I’ve not told her a thing.’

  is she wired Lucy typed.

  ‘Too dangerous. I hope to God she’s okay. You know what they’re…’ Jack didn’t need to finish the sentence. Lucy had worked long enough at the Met to know what drug dealers did to people who crossed them. ‘I’ve got to leave, Luc. Everyone is getting into positions by 20.00 hours.’

  They both looked at the clock over the desk. It was 6.30 p.m.

  ‘I’ll withdraw a grand from the bank before Tom gets home.’ His joke fell flat as she typed.

  luv u

  He kissed her quickly; then walked out before he broke down.

  The pub was half empty when he arrived. Jack was surprised, then realized that people were still probably hung-over from New Year’s Eve. He glanced over at the three members of the team playing a game of pool in the corner and went over to the bar. His eyes were focused on the front door; he was desperate to see if Bianca was okay. He looked at his watch and glanced at the guys at the pool table; one of them glanced over towards him briefly. Jack tried to slow his heart rate; he had to remain very calm.

  ‘You’re holding up the queue, mate!’

  Jack looked at the man behind him who pointed at the barman, waiting to take Jack’s order. ‘Sorry, small lemonade, please.’ He had to order something, but couldn’t drink before an op.

  The door of the pub opened bringing in a flurry of wind and freezing air.

  ‘Close the bleedin’ door!’ someone shouted. Bianca walked in with a short squat man. The man closed the door carefully. Jack looked at the terrified expression on Bianca’s face as they walked over and joined him.

  ‘Are you okay?’ he said to Bianca as they all sat down at a small table.

  She nodded briefly without looking at him. Her eye make-up was smeared as if she’d been crying. Jack breathed slowly and looked at the thug with her.

  ‘Where is it?’ The squat man gave him a look that Jack had last seen on one of the faces in Tom’s comic book; it was evil.

  ‘If you follow me. I’ll show you. It’s not far away.’ They all got up from the table. The man held Bianca’s arm in a vice-like grip. Jack resisted the urge to chop down on it hard and break it. He had practised aikido for many years and could have done it easily.

  ‘Don’t play any games with me,’ the man said, giving Jack a look that spoke volumes. He was much shorter than Jack, but there was no doubting that he was capable of killing him.

  ‘I’ve no intention of playing any games.’ Jack glanced at Bianca, but she wouldn’t look at him.

  The three of them went out into the icy night and walked towards the Palladian Mansions. The man turned to him in surprise. ‘We’ve searched Cellini’s apartment.’

  ‘It’s not in his apartment,’ Jack said, looking carefully around the street; he knew that they were being watched by the gang, but he couldn’t see them; they were good, he thought.

  ‘Where, then?’ The man tightened his hold on Bianca’s arm. She winced in pain.

  Jack couldn’t stall any longer. ‘It’s in the basement.’

  ‘Where’s the exit?’

  Jack hesitated for a second.

  ‘Don’t be stupid, Mr. Bradley.’

  ‘Drive around the corner, there’s a small entrance around the back of the Mansions.’

  ‘Did you get all that?’ The man said into his wire. ‘Move in positions now.’

  They walked in the foyer of the mansion block. One of the SCD7 team was sitting there, dressed immaculately as a concierge. He looked at them suspiciously. ‘Who are you going to see?’

  ‘Mrs. Montgomery. 5th floor,’ Jack said. He’d worked with this man on the last drug haul. ‘Just say it’s Jack Bradley and friends.’ He’d already told Mrs. M that a new concierge would be ringing up, but he wouldn’t be arriving. He’d explain later.

  They walked over to the lift and got in. Jack pressed the button for the basement and they descended.

  The man looked at Jack.’ Where’s the back exit?’

  ‘In the basement,’ Jack said impassively.

  The man’s eyes narrowed as he gave Jack a chilling stare. ‘I told you – don’t play games with me. Show me,’ he said as they got out of the lift. ‘We’re walking over to the back exit,’ he said into his wire, then looked at Jack. ‘Open it.’

  The large exit door had three bolts; Jack glanced at Bianca as he opened the bolts, but she seemed too frozen to notice what was happening. The SCD7 team was waiting in readiness, but he needed to know how many of the gang would be coming through the door. Suddenly, the room was full of people in grotesque masks holding Kel-Tec P11’s and Glock 17’s; small, neat guns that were easily concealed. Jesus Christ, Jack thought; he hadn’t expected so many of them would be armed. He glanced at Bianca; she was on the point of collapse. The small squat man stared at him.

  ‘Show us.’

  Some of the masked men ran around the basement, checking that all the rooms only had stored items in them, not realizing that the team had discovered many ingenious places to hide. Jack strolled over to Cellini’s store-room, needing time to work out exactly when to give the signal. He had to get it right this time.

  One of the masked men hit him over the back. ‘Stop fucking around! Move!’ he screamed at Jack.

  Jack winced against the pain and opened the door of the store room. The masked people crowded into the room and stared at the empty crate, then stared at Jack. One of them cocked back the hammer of his Glock with his thumb and pointed it at Jack. Jack exhaled deeply before he pulled back the board in the crate he’d removed earlier and exposed the cocaine. There was a loud whoop as they saw a life’s dream of wealth in front of them. Within seconds, the men were ripping the crate apart; Jack was forgotten in the excitement of the find, except by one man in a mask that reminded Jack of the Elephant Man. He was holding
Bianca in front of him; one arm tight across her throat. The man’s gun and eyes were totally focused on him, while Bianca stood frozen with shock beside the remnants of the crate. Jack stood helpless in the gun’s focus while the gang loaded up the bags they’d brought until all the cocaine had been removed. The men were striding towards the exit. Elephant Man glanced over to them and walked backwards with Bianca, not taking his eyes off Jack. If he gave the signal now he was likely to get killed, but he couldn’t wait much longer.

  ‘Now!’ he shouted.

  The store-room doors burst open and the basement was suddenly full of the SCD7 team and the sound of gunfire. Jack dived as Elephant Man fired his Glock at him. He hardly registered the pain in his arm as he rolled over bringing up his SIG in a single movement and firing into the man’s chest. Elephant Man collapsed onto the concrete, cork-screwing his mask into grotesque shapes. The team raced off after the masked men and Jack heard a rapid succession of shots outside the exit. He glanced at Bianca; she was slumped on the concrete, moaning softly.

  ‘It’s okay, Bianca. It’s okay. It’s over.’ He looked down, surprised to see blood pouring down his arm. As he did, the small squat man moved out of the shadows, his gun pointed at Jack.

  ‘Throw the SIG towards me,’ he said in a quiet voice as he dragged Bianca up off the floor and held her in front of him.

  Jack’s head snapped up. The man in the pub. Jesus – he’d forgotten him.

  ‘I won’t tell you again, Mr. Bradley. I haven’t got a lot of patience.’

  The man’s voice sounded ominous in its stillness and far more educated than before. Jack threw his gun towards him and groaned silently; he’d cocked up another operation.

  ‘Now I want you to tell the SCD7 team to back off. Do that now.’ The man pulled Bianca towards the exit, his gun pointed at her head.

  Jack fell to his knees, wondering how much blood he was losing. He kept hearing gunshots outside. ‘Coop? Can you hear me?’ Jack shouted into his wire. More gunshots in the distance, then a crackle.

  ‘What’s happening?’ Bob Cooper’s voice was faint.

  ‘A hostage situation in here. You need to back off.’

  Jack heard Coop’s voice shouting to the team in the distance. The gunfire stopped.

  ‘Thank you, Mr. Bradley. You’ve been very helpful.’ The squat man smiled as he pointed his gun at Bianca. ‘It would have been interesting getting to know you, but there’s never enough time to do every—’

  A single shot sliced the air; Bianca was thrown aside as the man collapsed onto his stomach. Jack lay on the concrete, looking up at the ceiling. Not the best place to die, he thought as a fuzzy face hovered over him and he lost consciousness.

  CHAPTER 44

  5th February 2013

  The newspapers had been awash with accolades for the Metropolitan police for weeks after their dramatic capture of one of the biggest drug-smuggling rings in Europe. Chief Superintendent Ian Dunmore had issued numerous press statements praising the superlative teamwork of DCI Jack Bradley and DCI Bob Cooper’s team at the Serious and Organized Crime Command. He deeply regretted the deaths of two members of the squad during a barrage of gun fire, but he would personally ensure that the deceased’s families would be well looked after. The public had been fascinated by the fact that everyone in the drug-smuggling ring had thought that the leader of the gang was called Capote. No one suspected he was, in fact, a short squat man who posed as the messenger boy. Not one member of the gang even knew his name. Sir Barnaby Morgan-Hughes, the police commissioner, awarded a commendation for bravery to DS Jamila Soyinka who shot the leader of the gang and saved the life of DCI Bradley by her quick thinking. The ACPO National Drugs Committee Award was going to be given jointly to DCI Bradley and DCI Bob Cooper.

  Everyone told Jack how lucky he’d been. If DS Soyinka hadn’t put a tourniquet on his arm quickly he’d be dead; the bullet had hit his brachial artery. He had felt lucky. After a short stay in hospital he’d made a quick recovery because of his fitness and was recuperating at home. During his convalescence, Jack, Lucy and Tom had searched avidly on the internet and had eventually discovered that the leader of the gang had gone to primary school with Paulo Cellini in the East End of London before Cellini’s father had become wealthy and moved Paolo to a public school and had paid for Paolo’s friend to go too. So that’s why the man had been able to move from East End slang to educated English so easily, Jack thought.

  There was a ring of the doorbell and Tom raced out of the study. He had been transformed by Jack’s recovery. All his resentment and anger against his father after Lucy’s illness had gone. Jack turned to look at Lucy, as usual shocked by her deteri-oration; both he and Tom pretended it wasn’t happening.

  They’d been having a steady stream of visitors since Jack had been shot and Tom had become a good host. They could hear him in the lounge talking to someone and went to join him. Jamila smiled as Jack and Lucy came in, but she couldn’t hide her shock quickly enough as she registered the change in Lucy. She went over to kiss her.

  ‘Ah, the lady with the lamp returns,’ Jack quipped.

  ‘Dad, that’s so not funny.’ Tom made a face at his father. ‘Do you want a drink, Jamila?’

  ‘Coffee would be great, Tom.’

  He bounded out of the room. Jamila and Jack glanced at each other briefly as Lucy’s labored breathing filled the room.

  Jamila got up and stood awkwardly in the center of the room. ‘I’ll come back another time when you’re not…’ Her voice trailed away.

  ‘I’m taking you to bed, Luc.’ He looked at Jamila. ‘No, stay and talk with Tom. It’ll take his mind off…’

  Neither of them seemed capable of finishing a sentence, Jack thought as he pushed Lucy’s wheelchair out of the room. Lucy was gasping for breath as he lifted her frail body into the bed and went to hook her up to the oxygen cylinder. She blinked at him twice. His hands shook as he put the oxygen mask over her mouth. She blinked at him twice again. Her eyes had always been so eloquent.

  Jack’s tears dripped onto her as he held her face. ‘I can’t, Luc. I haven’t got the courage. Forgive me. Please.’ He watched her painful breathing gradually become easier and soon she was asleep. Jack leaned his head against a wall and suddenly he was sliding down it. Seeing the silent desolation in Lucy’s eyes was infinitely more traumatic than facing a man with a gun.

  CHAPTER 45

  15th February 2013

  Tom’s hand was tight in Jack’s hand as they looked down at Lucy’s coffin. In his other hand he held a drawing of the bird table he’d made for his mother. He looked up at his father and Jack nodded. The mourners watched the drawing flutter down on top of the coffin. Neither Jack nor Tom had cried since her death; Jack knew that if they did, they might never stop. All evidence of Lucy’s illness had been removed from the house by Lucy’s parents; all that was left was evidence of the vibrant wife and mother she’d once been in her numerous photos, books and scientific journals. Jack hadn’t spoken to Lucy’s parents much since the night she had died. It was too painful for them all. Tom and he had started jogging together. They had a daily routine to keep them both fit. When they returned, hot and sweaty, one morning, they’d looked at Mary’s face as they entered the house and immediately knew.

  Jack had put his arm around Tom’s shoulder and they’d walked together into the bedroom. Lucy lay in bed with an expression on her face Jack hadn’t seen in three years; it was peaceful. All the pain had been removed and left his lovely girl behind. Mary had combed out her brown hair and dressed her in her favourite blue dress; the one she always wore when they were going to the theater. What a labor of maternal love, Jack thought. He and Tom stood looking at Lucy for a long time without speaking.

  Jack felt someone touch his shoulder. The vicar was looking at him expectedly. They were waiting for him to place something in the coffin. He opened his hand and he watched the pressed rose that Lucy had kept from the night of their engagement flutter down on to
p of her.

  The reception after the funeral was surreal. He watched everyone moving their mouths but had no idea what they were saying. It was like watching a black and white television screen with the sound turned off. He and Tom sat side by side on a settee without speaking to anyone; both buried in grief. For the first time in his adult life, Jack wished that he believed in the after-life; he wanted Lucy to be waiting for him somewhere.

  It was weeks later, when Jack was clearing out Lucy’s desk that he discovered that she had copied one of Keats’ poems into one of her notebooks.

  When I have fears that I may cease to be

  Before my pen has glean’d my teeming brain,

  Before high-piled books, in charactery,

  Hold like rich garners the full ripen’d grain;

  When I behold, upon the night’s starr’d face,

  Huge cloudy symbols of a high romance,

  And think that I may never live to trace

  Their shadows, with the magic hand of chance;

  And when I feel, fair creature of an hour,

  That I shall never look upon thee more,

  Never have relish in the faery power

  Of unreflecting love;-then on the shore

  Of the wide world I stand alone, and think

  Till love and fame to nothingness do sink.

  At last, Jack laid his head onto her desk and wept.

  CHAPTER 46

  14th June 2013

  Jack stared out of Mrs. M’s window at the tangle of ivy that was torturing the beech tree on the opposite side of the street. Ivy always reminded him of Alan. Everyone at the Met had cheered when they heard he’d been transferred to a back-water job in Norfolk. He was glad he’d gone back to work soon after Lucy’s funeral; his colleagues and work had helped him cope. He hoped that it had helped Tom to go back to school; at least he wasn’t embarrassed by his father’s job anymore. Thank God for Lucy’s parents, Jack thought. He couldn’t have coped with Tom without them.