The Disciple

by Steven Dunne

  ‘A few nasty bacteria stirred into my curry when he was in the toilet. He always finishes my meals when we’re on expenses.

  Is that all?’

  Brook peeled off his gloves to cool his hands. ‘Yesterday, interviewing Ottoman, you asked him why he didn’t kill Jason, but you were actually looking at me, asking me.’

  Grant smiled at him. ‘It was the right question. Do you have an answer?’ Brook said nothing. ‘Anything else?’

  ‘I suppose your uncanny ability to move the case forward rankled – that brainwave with the rope and the trapdoor for instance.’

  Grant chuckled, her cold eyes boring into him. ‘Maybe you couldn’t accept that I was a better detective than you.’

  Brook smiled. ‘Actually, I think I had accepted it until our walk in the Peaks.’

  ‘What did I say? I really tried to be careful.’

  ‘You were, Laura. But you can’t stifle muscle memory. You crossed that bridge to take the short cut to Alstonefield before me. Without a map, only a local would know that path.’ Brook patted for his cigarettes and reached into a pocket. Grant produced a small revolver. It didn’t seem natural in her hand.

  She held his eyes but lowered the gun when Brook took out his cigarettes and lit up. Grant indicated the sofa with a dart of her eyes. Brook moved over and sat.

  ‘Someone raised in Ashbourne, say.’

  Grant’s eyes widened and her hand seemed to stiffen around the gun. ‘That was careless.’

  ‘Hardly that, Laura. Or should I call you Nicole?’

  She was wrong-footed for a second, then smiled faintly. ‘Now I see why you’re so highly rated. I’m impressed.’

  ‘Don’t be. Your partner gave me a copy of his book. It’s all in there if you know how to read between the lines.’

  Grant’s smile faded. She looked towards the copy of Drexler’s book on the bureau. ‘Agent Drexler? Did he?’

  Brook could see confusion in her face. Perhaps in giving him the book, Drexler had overstepped the mark. There were private things in there. Brook decided to press home this small advantage.

  ‘I must say none of the pictures look like you.’

  ‘It’s not hard to alter your appearance in California, Damen.’ She looked out of the window for a moment. ‘My life as Nicole Bailey was over. Caleb and Billy Ashwell killed her.’

  ‘And yet you’re the body even the FBI couldn’t find.’

  Nicole smiled at that. ‘Thank God Uncle Vic found me first.’

  Uncle Vic. Brook flinched at the phrase he’d first heard uttered by Sorenson’s niece, Vicky, two years earlier. Like it or not, Brook couldn’t deny the unswerving loyalty and affection the professor inspired in others. He took a deep pull on his cigarette. It tasted bitter.

  Nicole looked down at the floor then hard at Brook. ‘He saved me, Damen. He saved me from those monsters and he saved countless future victims.’

  Brook nodded. There it was. ‘SAVED’ – The Reaper’s mantra buried deep inside her.

  ‘I was half-dead and out of my mind in that cabin. Small windowless room. The smell. So hard to breathe. So claustrophobic. You can’t imagine. I … we were in hell. Every time that door was unbolted I was ready for death. A few days earlier … my sister…’ Her face crumpled for a moment but she blinked away the tears and stared back at Brook defiantly. ‘But one night there was Uncle Vic, my dad’s friend. Covered in the blood of Caleb Ashwell. The most beautiful sight I’ve ever seen.’

  She laughed coldly. ‘Funny, when he saw me from the door he didn’t move at first – just stood there with a strange look on his face. He hadn’t expected survivors. It threw him. I was too young to know, I couldn’t realise what he was thinking, not until later. It’s what I’m thinking now.’

  Brook smiled. He was now a living witness. ‘Trust.’

  ‘The very word. Could he trust me with his life? He must have known he could never be sure, not for definite, I was just a kid. But he saved me anyway, risked everything he’d worked for, not knowing if one day I’d give him away. The professor was a great man. Instead of protecting himself he took me to his house and hired someone to nurse me back to health.

  ‘You know what? If he’d killed me I would’ve understood. I could have died happily knowing my family’s killers had been executed. But he took a leap of faith. I’ve spent the rest of my life repaying that faith, Damen.

  ‘And later, when he explained how he’d found the Ashwells and how he found … other families, suddenly I knew how to make that payment. Ridding the world of those who prey on others.’

  ‘Caleb and Billy got what they deserved,’ replied Brook. ‘No argument.’

  ‘As did Sammy Elphick and Bobby Wallis. And of course Floyd Wrigley,’ she added with a tilt of the head.

  ‘Floyd Wrigley was a mistake. I’ve been trying to correct it ever since.’

  ‘Have you?’ Nicole shook her head. ‘Uncle Vic said you were a moral man. That’s why you were so right to be The Reaper. He never told me you were weak. In the early days, he’d tell me how he met you after Harlesden; how he knew you were the one, the one to take his work forward. He said you got so close that you were the only one who could’ve caught him; the only one capable of understanding what he was trying to do. He said you became friends.’ Brook looked away. ‘He was so happy to find Floyd Wrigley for you – to give you Laura Maples’s killer.

  ‘You were my hero, you know.’ She smiled. ‘I even think I had a crush on you. Then two years ago, after Uncle Vic left Jason Wallis for you to finish and you resisted, he wasn’t so sure. But he said we owed you another chance to come to your senses, to recognise the value of The Reaper’s work. It would’ve pained him to know that you failed him again.’

  ‘You really did expect me to kill Wallis.’

  ‘Why not? We killed Harvey-Ellis for you as a gift – to remind you. I trained for weeks to get in shape. It was quite difficult not to give it away, especially when I got back from sick leave. I had to play the delicate flower for a while.’

  Brook smiled. ‘The way you sprinted up that hill on the walk followed by all that fake panting – that was a nice touch. So it was you who ran Harvey-Ellis down and drugged him.’ Grant nodded. ‘How did it feel pushing him into the water?’

  No answer. ‘You wanted him dead, don’t bother to deny it,’ she said finally.

  ‘It doesn’t mean I would have killed him…’

  ‘Because you couldn’t, not after you’d assaulted him that time. We understood. So we did it for you. You owe us, Damen. And we made it easy for you. Was removing Jason Wallis so high a price to pay? You must know what a stain on the face of the earth he is.’

  ‘Maybe. But he’s not stupid. Wallis knew it was a trap.’

  ‘He didn’t know for sure, Damen. But you’re right. He would have suspected. So we were careful. We were confident he wouldn’t speak to the police, and if he didn’t turn up it wasn’t a problem. But he did turn up, Damen, because, thanks to John Ottoman, he thought he’d made a deal with The Reaper. I wish we’d known at the time. I’m willing to bet Jason would have held up his end and killed his friends if we’d just left him to it – maybe not the young boy or Mr and Mrs Dysfunctional, but the others, the ones who killed Annie Sewell. If we made it easy for him, he’d have done it. Just to get himself off the hook. He’s a very dangerous young man.’

  ‘Dangerous?’

  ‘You saw him in hospital. He didn’t give a shit that his friends were dead. And worse, thanks to you, he’s survived a visit from The Reaper twice. Now he thinks he’s untouchable.’

  ‘He’ll get what’s coming to him.’

  ‘Will he, Damen? I hope so, before others suffer. He’s got a taste for killing.’

  ‘And have you?’

  Nicole’s face hardened. ‘Don’t try that Lesson One psychology on me. What I do is valuable work. I take no pleasure. It’s clinical, like removing a tumour.’ Nicole, tired of standing, went to sit on the bed. Brook stood to s
tretch his legs. Nicole’s gun was still raised.

  ‘You know how to use that?’

  ‘I wouldn’t want you to test me.’

  ‘The strong woman in a man’s world?’

  ‘I’ve had to be.’

  ‘I’m sure … but stop waving it around, please. You won’t kill me no matter how much I get in the way.’

  She hesitated. ‘Why so confident?’

  ‘Because I’m just as exposed as you – Sorenson saw to that with Floyd. That’s why you could afford to hang around and film me in the hope I’d slit Jason’s throat.’

  ‘Which you nearly did, apparently.’

  ‘You weren’t there?’

  ‘I had to get back to the hotel.’

  ‘On the remaining bike,’ nodded Brook. ‘How’d Mike get away?’ Nicole stared hard at him. ‘You can tell me. Mike and I have an understanding.’

  Nicole narrowed her eyes. ‘Do you?’

  ‘We’re the good guys, remember. We’ve served. So have you. That’s your weakness. You call me weak but you sent me the film of Ottoman to clear him. Because he’s a civilian. You can’t stand by and watch him sink when he has no part in your war.’

  Nicole nodded. ‘Our war, Damen. Don’t forget Floyd.’

  Brook pulled out another cigarette. ‘I’ll try not to. So what now?’

  She looked at her watch, then went to the doorway to look out. ‘We leave Derby tonight.’

  ‘And if I try to stop you?’

  ‘You won’t.’

  ‘A leap of faith?’

  She smiled. It was a distant, hopeless smile. ‘Far from it. Like you say, you’re exposed. I think you just want us gone.’ She checked her watch.

  ‘Where are you going?’

  Her lips tightened. ‘A place The Reaper is needed.’

  ‘And is this your life now, Nicole, planning the deaths of dysfunctional families?’

  ‘That word. Makes it sound like a bowel disorder. Everybody I held dear was killed by one of those families. Now Uncle Vic is dead. Even I’m dead. Nicole Bailey is dead. This work is all I have. But every day I question it, Damen, and every day I see my sister’s face and hear her screams. I don’t sleep at night, I have to walk. I have to keep moving like a shark. Maybe that’s why I have to hunt. But when I see the relief after The Reaper has paid a visit I know it’s all worthwhile. Those people on the Drayfin are just the first. Soon, on every estate, law-abiding residents will be thinking the same. In every school, teachers will…’

  Brook laughed. ‘Spare me. I heard this speech when you were still a carefree schoolkid.’

  ‘Playing with my carefree sister Sally,’ she responded bitterly.

  Brook lit his cigarette. ‘You can’t keep avenging her death.’

  ‘You think it’s personal. It’s not. After the first, it’s not personal. You forgot that with Floyd – he died so you could sleep without seeing Laura Maples’s rat-infested corpse. But after that your work is for others.’

  ‘Is that why you mocked up her little squat in the Wallis house, as a reminder?’

  ‘And why Victor chose to call me Laura. To remind you of what we do and why.’

  ‘Damn it, I haven’t forgotten, believe me, but it’s futile. Nothing changes. All the deaths are meaningless because there’s always someone else ready to step up. Don’t you see? The death of the Wallis family allowed the Ingham family to flourish. Now the Ingham family are gone another will take their place and so it goes…’

  ‘And somebody will come to remove them. It won’t be me but there are others. We’re not alone. The Reaper is not just an idea any more, Damen, it’s an organisation. There are so many police officers like me and you around the world, biding their time, waiting for the chance to make the world a better place.’ She smiled. ‘You’ll see that soon.’

  Brook shook his head. ‘It’s madness. It’ll destroy you like it destroyed Sorenson.’

  ‘That’s okay. Uncle Vic was a soldier. He gave his life right up to the end. What are you doing?’

  Brook took a deep breath and ran his fingers through his hair. He looked up and fixed her in his sights. ‘Then where’s the beauty?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘You’re the one who’s forgotten. I knew Sorenson better than you. It’s not just about wiping the scum off the earth. The professor had class. He gave them something before they died. He showed them beauty so they’d know what to look for if they ever found themselves in a better place. He made them see. What do you do? Destroy. What’s the point? That’s what your victims do, without thought for others, without the sensibility to know what they’re doing, how it damages them. Don’t you see? Victor showed them a better way, a shaft of light, of reason. A design for living that didn’t involve instant gratification, didn’t involve taking pleasure from the misery of others. Where was that for the Inghams? Where were the tears?’

  Nicole stood now, unable to look at him. She checked her watch again. A noise from the other room focused her attention. ‘In here,’ she shouted over her shoulder. She raised her gun to Brook. ‘Your phone please, Inspector.’

  Brook stood up. ‘I’ve told you. You won’t kill me. Sorenson would spin in his grave.’

  Nicole aimed the gun lower. ‘How would he react to a kneecap, do you think?’

  Brook held her gaze for a few seconds, then pulled out his phone. He took a huge pull on the last of his cigarette and threw the phone wide of her left hand. As she turned instinctively, he leapt for her gun hand and managed to knock the revolver up, then jammed the lit cigarette butt into her hand. She screamed and released the gun into Brook’s hand. She glared at him, nursing her hand.

  ‘Drop it, Damen!’

  Brook and Nicole Bailey turned to the doorway together.

  Brook’s heart sank. Mike Drexler stood, face set, eyes like pebbles, looking at him down the barrel of a gun.

  ‘Real careful.’

  After a pause, Brook bent slowly to place the revolver on the floor. For some reason, Nicole didn’t bolt over and pick it up. He looked over at her. She hadn’t moved. Her eyes were glued onto Drexler, waiting while she massaged her burned hand.

  ‘Good. Now kick it under the sofa.’

  Brook backheeled the weapon under the sofa. ‘Mike…’

  ‘Shut up.’

  ‘Agent Drexler. It’s been a while. Let’s see…’

  ‘Fifteen years, Nicole – 1995. Think I’d forget?’

  Nicole held his gaze, nodding in awe at the passing of time. ‘As long as that?’

  ‘Mike,’ said Brook, looking from one to the other, unsure of what else he would say.

  ‘Don’t talk, Damen,’ said Drexler insistently, a look of distaste on his face. ‘Get on the bed, Nicole. No, not on your ass, on your knees. You can keep your clothes on this time.’ Nicole slowly walked round the bed, then clambered onto the mattress.

  ‘Mike,’ tried Brook again. ‘You’ve got to…’

  Drexler trained the gun between Brook’s eyes to halt him. ‘Sorry to interrupt but I can’t listen to you. I actually believed you, you’re that good, Reaper man. Sorenson drilled you real well – and I ought to know.’ He adopted a sneering, British accent. ‘“I was young and in a bad place.” That was a good line. So imagine my surprise the next morning, looking out my window and seeing you with Nicole Bailey. All cosy – going for a walk and all. Now how careless is that, after all these years?’ He speared a glance at Nicole. ‘Did you think I wouldn’t recognise you after all this time, kid? Think I wouldn’t see past the hair colour and the cosmetic surgery?’

  Nicole shrugged, adopting a pose. ‘What do you think?’

  Drexler broke into a smile. ‘I think you look pretty damn good. For a dead girl.’

  Nicole nodded. ‘Better than my sister?’ Drexler squirmed and rearranged the gun in his hand. ‘Can you still see Sally’s face, Mike? I carry it with me every day.’

  ‘So do I,’ he replied, through gritted teeth.

  ‘Thank you for
that, Mike. I appreciate it. I’m just glad you can’t hear her screams like I do.’

  Drexler lowered his gun and turned to Nicole, a haunted look in his eye. ‘Cut it out.’

  ‘Do you ever dream, Mike?’

  ‘I said, cut it out.’ Drexler aimed the gun at Nicole. ‘Listen, kid, I dream about the things I’ve seen, sure, the things people do to other human beings. And I was on that estate after you took down that family.’ Brook tried to speak but was halted by a wave of the gun. ‘And no, they won’t be missed. And yes, people are even glad they’re gone. But Jesus, kid. A nine-year-old child?’ Drexler took a deep breath and his tone became more measured. ‘Look, I understand the impulse. And I’m not going to preach. You do whatever Sorenson wants; it’s none of my business.’ He lowered the gun. ‘Killing a rapist is one thing but I couldn’t shoot you any more than I could hang an unarmed kid. That’s not why I’ve been all round the country looking for you.’

  ‘Victor Sorenson is dead, Mike,’ said Nicole with lowered head.

  ‘So it’s true.’ Drexler looked at Brook.

  ‘Mike. You have to know something,’ began Brook.

  ‘Damen, give it up,’ said Nicole. ‘We had a good run. But Mike’s got us cold.’

  ‘But, Mike, wait…’

  ‘You heard. Give it up, Damen. I’ve been following you since I saw you together. See, you were my one link to Sorenson and The Reaper.’

  ‘That’s why you moved to Hartington.’

  ‘And right next door too. How lucky was that? And boy, you were good. I was almost convinced but then you slipped up. And here I am in your secret lair. Your Aladdin’s cave,’ he chuckled, looking around the room. ‘Sorenson was always so well organised. But like I said, I’m not trying to step on any toes. I’m here for one thing – to see my friend.’ There was silence for a moment. ‘Where is she?’

  ‘Right behind you, Mike.’

  A moment later Drexler’s grip relaxed and the gun lowered. ‘I can’t.’

  ‘Kill him,’ screamed Nicole, tearing towards Drexler.

  McQuarry stepped across her path and grabbed her flailing fists. She picked up the slight girl and threw her onto the bed where she stayed, sobbing into a pillow.