by Conrad Jones
“Hmm,” Alec shook his head. “I could tell him that but I don’t think he would too happy about the fat arse comment. Maybe we should just get an action plan together and send him that instead.” Annie ignored the joke. Alec clenched his jaw and gave her a chance to cool off. Turning the radio up a touch, he nodded slowly as he drove. Birdy was singing ‘Skinny Love’ in her mournful tone. Alec wondered how someone so young and pretty could produce such a world weary voice. “I love this track,” he said changing the subject.
“It’s not a floor-filler,” Annie said looking at the Anglican cathedral. Her anger was spent, her frustration vented. She was exhausted. Alec was the last person that she wanted to shout at.
As they neared Annie’s house he turned the radio off and spoke to her softly. “I think you should start at the beginning and tell me exactly what has happened.” He held up his finger to his lips and smiled. “But wait until we are at your house and we have a drink in our hand. By that time you should have calmed down.”
“Hmm,” Annie crossed her arms. “Don’t count on it,” she joked. They spent the rest of the short journey in a comfortable silence. Their mutual respect made it easy to discuss the job calmly. Annie was stressed but not with Alec. Never with Alec.
Alec parked up in the driveway and they walked to the front door, their feet crunched on the gravel. The clouds parted and Alec caught the glint of a silver orb from the upstairs windows. It would be the full moon the next day and the estuary would be full of big fish, although he didn’t think that he was going to have much time to get his rods out. He could hear his late wife’s voice in his mind, ‘Fishing? When are you going to go fishing? I hardly see you as it is, and you’re planning to spend what little time we have fishing. You don’t even eat fish!’ She hadn’t understood that it was his way of escaping the world for a few hours. Alec hadn’t understood that Gail didn’t think that she should be escaped from and therein lay a problem that dogged their marriage through the later years.
“Do you want coffee?” Annie asked as they climbed the stairs to the living room. The architect had put two bedrooms and a garage on the ground floor to make the most of the views from the upper rooms of the house. “I’m going to have something stronger to knock me out. I need to sleep tonight.” Annie added. She tried not to make it sound as if she was apologising for having a drink but it did. The truth was that she found it much easier to switch off her brain after a couple of glasses of brandy. Sometimes she added Baileys’ and ice cubes made from black coffee. That was her favourite at the moment. Remembering to make the coffee ice cubes was the key.
“Coffee would be good,” Alec called after her. He sat on an L-shaped leather settee and looked around. It was tastefully furnished, laminate flooring and IKEA shelving units. There was no sign of anyone else sharing the house. “Did you have any luck finding a lodger?”
“Not really,” she answered from the kitchen. “One woman asked if the house was carbon neutral and the other one wouldn’t stop staring at my prosthetic. She hardly said a word and then didn’t get back in touch. I think it freaked her out.” Alec could hear the kettle boiling and cups clinking. “I’m going to put my cosies on I’m afraid; I won’t be two minutes.”
“No problem.” He heard her padding down the stairs, doors opening and closing, the toilet flushed and then in less than five minutes, she was back. “That was quick.”
“There’s a trail of clothes behind me but it has to be done when I get in. Clothes off, cosies on.” Annie smiled. She had changed into grey flannel track suit pants and a matching top. “I don’t really need a lodger and I’m not sure that I want one. I just thought the money would come in handy and it might be nice to see the lights on when I get home after work.”
“That, I can identify with,” Alec agreed. “I still get home and see the house in darkness and wonder where Gail is.”
Annie popped her head around the door. “How long has it been now?”
“Three years.”
“Bloody hell,” Annie sighed. “They say it gets easier with time.”
“They say a lot of things. Most of it is bullshit.”
Annie smiled and went back into the kitchen. She reappeared with a cup in one hand and a tumbler in the other. “Coffee for you and brandy and Baileys’ for me.”
“Cheers,” Alec said raising his cup. He sat back and sipped his brew. “Right then, start at the beginning.”
Annie took a long gulp of her drink before she started. It took her over an hour, three glasses of brandy and Baileys’ and two cups of coffee to explain the day’s events. Ten minutes after Alec had left she was already in a deep sleep.
CHAPTER 38
3am
Toni Barrat was asleep. Not a deep sleep but a fitful, nightmare filled doze. Kayla was calling to her from the window of a burning house. The flames were creeping higher and higher. The smoke was becoming darker and thicker. Her cries were becoming louder and more frantic. The heat was becoming more intense every second but she couldn’t move an inch. The flames snaked along the ground towards Toni. Kayla’s face began to melt and her arms flailed wildly. Her nightmare mingled with her memories of Bonfire Night, many years before. The stench of burning human flesh filled her senses. She looked down and watched her own skin blister and peel and then suddenly the flames were gone and she was standing in a silent black void. Alone and frightened, she called to Kayla but there was no reply.
When she felt a gentle tap on her shoulder, she twitched violently and opened her eyes but it took a few seconds for her to realise where she was. It was a relief to be out of her nightmares but she knew that she would have to return to them later on. People look forward to their slumber, but for Toni sleep was the place where her demons gathered to taunt her. She always had to return to them and she knew that she always would. The harsh light made her blink and the smell of stale sweat masked by disinfectant told her that she was still deep within the bowels of the Police Headquarters. She didn’t feel rested at all. Her eyes were sore and her head felt like it was full of cotton wool. She felt sick to the stomach with worry. She had stayed awake as long as she possibly could but exhaustion had caught up with her. Waiting for Kayla to come out of surgery was torture. She felt guilty for sleeping when her partner was seriously injured. She wanted to be there with her but the DI was adamant that she would take her there as soon as Kayla came out of surgery. It made sense. One waiting room was pretty much like another and if she was honest, she was very scared of the men who had hurt Kayla and then broken into their home. They had broken into their house while she was under police protection. That showed a ruthless disregard for the law. They had no fear. They could get to her if they really wanted to; they wouldn’t think twice about trying to get to her in the hospital. The DI was right; it was safer to wait at the station. She felt a hand shake her gently once more.
“Wake up, Toni. We need to get you to the Royal,” Stirling’s voice was vaguely familiar to her. “I’m taking you to see Kayla.”
“Kayla?” Toni snapped awake. She could see that it was still pitch black outside. It was the middle of the night. “Is she okay?”
Stirling shook his head slowly, “She’s out of surgery but she’s taken a turn for the worse. We’re going to take you to her. Quickly, get your bag. We need to leave now.”
“Oh my God,” Toni whispered. “She’s dead isn’t she?”
“No,” Stirling touched her arm gently. “I would tell you if she was. She’s alive but she might not make it through the night, Toni. Best that we get there as fast as we can so you can spend some time with her. I need you to put this on underneath your coat,” Stirling said handing her a bulletproof vest.
“Underneath?” Toni asked. Stirling had donned one earlier. His was sitting above his other clothes. She was groggy and confused. “Yours is on top of your clothes?”
“They won’t be shooting at me because I’m not the target,” Stirling replied gruffly. “If they see that you’re wearing a ve
st, they’ll shoot you in the head instead to make sure that you’re dead. Now put it on quickly. We need to go.” Toni nodded timidly in agreement although she felt as if she had been punched in the stomach. The thought of being shot in the head had rattled her. She let Stirling guide her to the lift where they were met by two armed officers. They exchanged a few brief words that Toni heard but didn’t compute. As they descended to the car park, she looked at their holstered weapons. They were officers from an elite unit highly trained in the use of firearms but for some reason, she didn’t feel in the slightest bit safe.
CHAPTER 39
Late at night when the traffic has gone, Alder Hey Children’s Hospital is a ten minute drive east from the Royal Liverpool Hospital. It is a huge facility with over two thousand staff, treating hundreds of thousands of children from all over the UK every year. Because of the nature of its patients, it functions twenty-four hours a day. Parents are allowed to stay with their children around the clock and at night, when their offspring are sleeping they can use the time to take a break from the wards. Some of the shops and restaurants stay open. Andris Markevica walked into the reception area and checked the floor plan of the hospital. He made a mental note of the layout in his head before walking into Cafe Nero and buying a large latte. The barista was young, firm and Asian. She was attractive and had he not been in such a rush, he would have asked her out for a drink. She would have said no but then they always did. She would refuse because he was too old, then he would have bullied her into dating him regardless. No was a word that just didn’t compute in his head. Andris wasn’t as handsome as his brother Ivor, nor was he as intelligent. His brother had the looks and the charm. Andris both admired and envied his brother. Women found his brother irresistible but they found Andris intimidating. He had lost the bottom half of his left ear in a bar fight and his nose had been broken badly and was crooked and bent but it wasn’t his facial features that scared them, it was his demeanour. His eyes were piercing and undressed them indiscreetly, his smile was a sneer and his language was from the sewer. Women were sexual objects to be abused mentally and physically. To most females he was intimidating; to the rest he was just plain frightening. Andris had no awareness of the fact that he made women recoil, quite the opposite. In his mind women wanted him and if they said no it was because they were playing hard to get. Either that or they were lesbians.
“Large latte,” the young barista, whose badge identified her as Leah, said as she handed him his drink. She had all the enthusiasm of a teenager who had drawn the late shift for the third day on the trot. “Anything else?”
Andris opened his leather jacket and nodded down towards his belt. Leah reluctantly looked down. She really hoped that it wasn’t his penis that he was gesturing to. She didn’t want to look down but she couldn’t help herself. The butt of a black pistol protruded from his waistband. She had never seen a semiautomatic before but it looked real enough to strike fear through her. In hindsight, his penis would have been less frightening. Her face drained of colour.
“You can give me all the notes from the till,” he grinned. The girl nodded and opened the till. She snatched at the notes and handed them to him with shaking hands. “Very good. Well done. Now go and phone the police and tell them that you have been robbed by a man with a big gun.” He leaned over the counter and stroked her chin. She froze like a statue. “Make sure that you tell them it was a very big gun.”
She nodded timidly, her teeth chattered with fear. He picked up his coffee, turned and walked out. There were a handful of dumbstruck customers watching but none of them fitted into the hero bracket. No one made eye contact with him and no one dared to use their mobile while he was in the near vicinity. Andris smiled at them as he left the coffee shop and walked back into the foyer. They looked at each other in disbelief. To his right was the main entrance door where he had entered; to his left was the information desk that doubled as the reception. He headed towards the desk and sipped his latte as he went. The reception was manned by a female civilian employee and an aging male security guard, who eyed him suspiciously as he approached. Andris took another noisy slurp of his coffee, which left a milky moustache on his lip.
“Good evening,” Andris smiled and raised his cup in greeting.
“What can we do for you?”
“I need you to tell the police that there’s a madman running around the hospital shooting at people.”
The receptionist frowned and looked at the security guard. They rolled their eyes towards the ceiling. “Now, why would we do that?”
Andris took out his gun and showed it to them. It had barely registered as being real before Andris pointed it at the clock on the wall and fired. The clock face exploded into a dozen shards and the casing dropped onto the desk beneath it with a deafening clatter. “Tell them that I intend to shoot as many kids as I can before they get me. Understand?”
The security guard nodded silently and picked up the phone. Andris waited for him to dial the emergency number before he walked off towards the wards.
CHAPTER 40
Letva Lapsa was at the rear of King David’s School. It was a prestigious boarding school that accommodated children of the Jewish faith from all over the world. The building was built from granite in a mock castle style with turrets and crenulations topped with a dark slate roof. There were a handful of lights still burning and he could see the reflection of a television flickering on the ceiling of a room on the second floor. That was the room that he needed. It would be perfect. He sighed and checked his watch. It was time. He dialled 999 from his mobile.
“Emergency, which service?”
“Police.”
“Connecting you now.”
“Police emergency.”
“Hello, I am outside King David School, Childwall Road,” he looked at the school as he spoke.
“Okay, what is the emergency?”
“There are two men with rucksacks loitering near the rear of the school. They look very suspicious to me.”
“Where are they exactly?”
“They’re in a copse of trees and bushes near to the rear entrance on Childwall Road.”
“And they’re behaving suspiciously?”
“Yes, they’re crouched down behind the wall.”
“Can you describe them for me please?”
“They’re dark skinned, maybe Middle Eastern with long beards. I think they’re Muslims. One of them has a gun,” Letva said excitedly. “Quickly, get someone here. One of them is pointing a gun at the school!” He took the mobile from his ear and aimed his nine-millimetre at the window of the room that still had the lights on and squeezed the trigger three times.
CHAPTER 41
Ivor Markevica drove north along the dock roads. They had enjoyed a meal and a few drinks listening to a tribute band in a bar and now it was time for business. The traffic was negligible, mostly taxis, delivery vans of all sizes and Hackney cabs. Marika was sitting in the passenger seat; her beige leather mini-skirt had ridden up to expose her tanned thighs. Ivor glanced over at them each time the streetlights illuminated the vehicle. He allowed his hand to slip from the gearstick between her legs, stroking the soft flesh of her inner thigh with his fingertips. Her eyes filled with mischief and she allowed his fingers to linger there a second before gently moving them down to her knee.
“Enough! It tickles.” She looked out of the window, a sultry look on her face. The chemistry between them was still as strong as when they had first met. She used his desire for her to her advantage. He was a tough man with a strong character but when she could see desire in his eyes, she could wrap him up and tie him in knots. If she wanted something particular, she waited for the right moment to ask for it. He wanted her now. That was obvious. There would be time enough for their lovemaking once they had retrieved the zombie.
“Turn right,” she said pointing to a junction about a hundred metres further on. The GPS on her phone was guiding them to an address on the edge of the city centre. The
tracker in the briefcase was still active, the signal strong. Ivor turned and then five hundred metres on, she pointed to a turning on their left. “Down here. It’s the second close on the right, third house along.”
Ivor indicated and pulled the car to the kerb. “Give me the tracker,” he said checking around. The houses in the street were in darkness. “I’ll go on foot from here. If anyone pulls into the road, drive off and text me.” He leaned over and kissed her lips.
“Be careful,” Marika warned him.
“Always,” Ivor said as he opened the door and climbed out.
The air was cold and the breeze had a bite to it. Stars twinkled through an occasional gap in the clouds as they raced across the night sky. He could hear the city behind him in the distance; the sound of sirens blaring drifted from all directions. Despite the size of the city, there seemed to be a lot of sirens; too many. It made him feel uneasy. He had warned Letva and his brother not to attract any more attention and he hoped that they had listened. They had lost a lot of key men in a short space of time. It should have been a simple operation. Ivor had made plans to replace them quickly and to bolster their operation with more personnel. He could flood a European city with men in under forty-eight hours. Luckily, their businesses in London, Brighton and the south-west were well established and his employees were easily redeployed without effecting operations. He had made contingency plans already and would supervise the reorganisation of the hierarchy himself. Oleg had crossed the line by all accounts. Taking one of the Karpov’s senior men was bad enough but to allow him to be found on property that belonged to Three was unforgivable. If he had disappeared, so be it. The Karpovs would have had their suspicions but without a body, nothing could be proved. The way things had unfolded, not only did they know that he was dead, they knew who had done it and there would be a violent price to pay. It seemed obvious that Andris wasn’t capable of controlling things alone. He would have to appoint an advisor, who would report directly to Ivor. Hopefully Andris wouldn’t realise that he had been demoted. Letva was a different matter altogether.