by Tania Carver
May flashed his warrant card once more. ‘The captain around?’
‘Got a warrant?’
‘Don’t need one.’ May pushed past him, made his way to the bridge.
The captain was waiting for them. Face calm but looking warmer than the night air would have suggested.
May explained who he was, why he was there. ‘We have reason to believe two of my officers have been kidnapped and are being held on this ship. We’d like your permission to search.’
‘You need a warrant for that.’
‘Or your co-operation. Probable cause.’
The captain shrugged. ‘We’re preparing to sail on the morning tide. Get a warrant.’ His voice displaying studied disinterest.
May was about to speak, but Mickey stepped in. ‘Listen, mate,’ he said, ‘it’s the middle of the night and we can’t get a warrant until morning, as well you know. During which time you’ll have sailed away and left us to it. Well, we can’t let you do that. We’ll make sure you’re delayed here for as long as necessary. Could take us days to get a warrant. And all the while you’re going nowhere. And losing money. You want that?’
That got his attention. ‘You don’t know who owns this ship.’
‘I do know who owns this ship. And we’re not leaving until we’ve searched it.’
The police officers stood their ground. The captain had no choice but to allow them access. He gave a small, defeated wave.
‘Thank you,’ said May. ‘Now let me see the ship’s manifest.’
The captain reluctantly handed it over.
‘Right.’ May looked at Mickey. ‘You and DC Hepburn take the stern.’
‘That’s the back, right?’ said Anni.
‘Correct.’ He divided up the rest of his team into port and starboard.
‘All the terms,’ said Anni, impressed.
‘Grew up on a narrowboat outside Harlow,’ said May. ‘Right. I’ll take the pointy end. Let’s go.’
Mickey and Anni made their way towards the back of the ship. It was quite bright due to the overhead pier lights, but Mickey still swung a torch left and right. They stood before a stack of containers and looked up. He held the torch on them. They were piled so high, the beam died.
‘Great,’ said Anni. She put her hand on the first one. ‘Let’s start here, shall we?’
She worked the handle, swung the door open. Mickey shone the torch inside. The beam picked out stacked cardboard boxes.
‘Something going outbound,’ he said, then turned to her. ‘Hey, that’s a thought.’
‘What?’
‘Well, it might be worth checking that list—’
‘The manifest,’ said Anni.
‘Yeah,’ said Mickey. ‘I’m betting most of these are going out empty.’
‘Why?’
‘Because we hardly make anything any more. We import. So we check the empty ones first.’
‘Good idea.’
‘Right, let’s—’
A noise from the other side of the container stack. Like someone had been listening, was trying to get away.
Mickey and Anni shared a glance. Mickey gestured with his eyes; Anni nodded. They divided up either side of the container, began to creep round.
Another sound before they had got halfway. Someone moving away quickly.
Mickey sprinted to the corner. A figure was running towards the middle of the ship. Male, tall, well dressed. Suede jacket. He turned back to face them. Mickey recognised him. He had last seen him sitting in the back of a police car in Aldeburgh.
Calling himself Stuart Milton.
‘Come on,’ he shouted to Anni, and gave chase.
110
‘No. Definitely not.’
Marina stopped walking, not believing what she had just heard. ‘No? What d’you mean, no?’
Franks stopped walking also, turned, came back to her. ‘I mean no.’
They were in the corridor outside the interview room. Stuart Milton had been left to sleep while they went about putting the circus together to ride on Wrabness. Or at least Marina had thought that was what they were doing.
‘But that’s not fair. After what I’ve just done … Gary, that’s my daughter out there. I’ve got to come. No question.’
‘I’m sorry, Marina, but you’re not. It’s my decision. I listened to your arguments and let you in there and you did a damned good job. But you’re a psychologist. Your presence on a police field operation could be detrimental to its success. So I’m sorry, but no.’
Marina didn’t know what to say, how to reply.
Franks’s features softened. ‘I’m sorry, Marina, I really am. If there was a way you could be there, I would let you.’
She said nothing.
‘You can stay here. Or you can go home. But you can’t come with us. I’m sorry. We’ll call you as soon as we can.’ He gave a tight smile. ‘With good news, I hope.’
She felt like she was about to explode. ‘I’m not some fucking grieving relative, Gary. I’m one of the team. A valued member. Or I thought I was.’
Franks’s eyes widened. Clearly unhappy with women swearing. ‘You are,’ he said. ‘Of course you are.’
‘Yeah,’ said Marina. ‘Right.’ She turned away from him, strode off down the corridor towards the reception area. Keyed in the pass code, slammed through the door. To find her brother sitting in reception. She stopped walking, looked at him.
‘What are you doing here?’ she asked.
‘Waiting for you,’ he said. ‘Fuckers let me go. Couldn’t hold me.’
She looked at him. He looked like she felt. Dirty, dishevelled. His sweats and trainers filthy.
‘What’s happened?’ he asked.
Marina opened her mouth to tell him, closed it again. She looked round. Checked no one was in earshot.
‘Where’s your car?’
‘Outside. They brought it here. Why?’
She thought. ‘Got anything planned for the rest of the night?’
Sandro, his face lined and tired, gave her a suspicious look. ‘I have a feelin’ the right answer isn’t “Goin’ home to bed”.’
‘Dead right,’ she said. ‘We’re going to Wrabness. To get my daughter back.’
111
A my kept trying to squeeze the trigger, but her hand was shaking too much to complete the action. Dee could see how unhinged she was, so she tried to play for time until the Golem arrived. Kept talking. ‘What exactly did you think you were going to achieve?’ she said. ‘With all this.’
‘You know what I was going to achieve,’ said Amy. ‘Get what was mine. What’s owed to me. It’s what I deserve.’
‘So why haven’t you tried to do it before? Why now?’
She lowered the gun slightly, concentrating on her words, focusing her anger. ‘I did try. A few times. But it costs money, doesn’t it? And when you’re a non-person, when you don’t exist, you don’t have any, do you? Not that you would know.’
Dee said nothing. Her previous life flashed through her mind. She ignored it.
‘Who would believe a madwoman? No one. That’s who.’
‘But a madwoman with a convicted murderer — that’d work … ’ Dee almost smiled at her own words, knowing they would just enrage Amy further.
‘Shut up! Shut up! You know that’s not true … And we could have proved it. Graham and me. That was the plan. That’s why he fell out with Michael. Over me. Graham hated what Michael had done to me. Hated it. Oh, he was all for it at first. He was with us. One of us. He helped put the blame on Stuart, get him sent down for the killings. But he hated what Michael had done to me. And then when you came along … ’
‘He left.’
Amy smiled. ‘Yes. He hated you as much as he hated Michael. And when Michael wouldn’t give him or me any money, we came up with the plan.’
‘This plan.’
‘Yes. Graham had kept a copy of the will, after all these years. The one my father made just before he died. The one that included
Stuart. All we had to do was wait until Stuart was released, have him declared sane, show that he didn’t do the killings and him and me could be cut in. Michael wouldn’t let that happen, of course. Came after us.’
‘And did a pretty good job.’
Amy didn’t reply with words. She just growled.
‘It was foolproof. Get that psychologist back, the one who said the right things about him at the time. Because she’s made quite a name for herself. She’s high profile now.’ Amy sighed. ‘Foolproof. That’s what Graham said.’ Her eyes became wet.
‘How wrong he was.’ Dee could sense Amy weakening. When the Golem appeared, that would be the end of it. Then she could join Michael and say hello to a new life. But she couldn’t resist one last gloat. ‘You failed,’ she said. ‘Failed.’
‘Shut up! Shut up!’
‘Failed.’
Amy brought the gun up once more, levelled it. Dee stopped talking, thought she had actually gone too far this time. But then she felt rather than saw movement at her side. A shadow flowed, became corporeal. The Golem appeared.
Dee smiled. Her confidence returned. ‘As I said. You failed.’
Amy stared at the two of them.
And laughed.
112
Mickey ran. The other man ran faster. He seemed to know his way around better too, weaving in and out of the container stacks and negotiating on-deck obstacles that Mickey had difficulty seeing until he was on them. Coils of rope. Storage chests. The man jumped and dodged, avoiding them. Or deliberately taking a route that would slow Mickey down.
Mickey began to see where his quarry was headed. The ramp. The pier. Then off and away.
He couldn’t let that happen, had to stop him from reaching it.
The figure broke cover, came running out from behind another container stack, heading away from Mickey. Mickey gave chase, jumping over a coil of rope in his path.
The fleeing man looked backwards, checked that Mickey was still with him. Mickey ran harder, gaining on him. The man turned, ducked behind another container stack. Mickey, still running, followed him.
And felt an immediate pain in his chest.
He dropped to the deck, sore and winded. When he opened his eyes, the well-dressed man was standing over him, a length of metal in his hand. Mickey’s hand went to his chest. He gave a practice breath. It hurt. A lot.
The man gave a quick look round, then brought the metal bar down once more.
Mickey managed to roll out of the way, letting his shoulder take most of the blow that had been intended for his torso. He felt something crack as he did so. Pain shot down the length of his arm. He tried to pick his arm up, move it. Couldn’t.
He was out of it.
He could only watch as the man dropped the bar, looked round quickly to see if any other police officers were in sight. There weren’t. He looked down at Mickey again. Smiled.
‘Terribly sorry, old chum. Must dash.’
Mickey tried to rise, grab him, stop him from leaving. Felt a web of pain anchor him to the deck, pull him back down again.
He gasped, groaned. Tried to get his two-way radio out of his pocket, tell May what was happening. But it hurt too much. Couldn’t even manage that. His arm dropped down again. He sighed. He could only watch as the well-spoken, well-dressed man turned, walked away.
And immediately crashed face forward on to the deck.
Anni emerged from behind a stack of containers swinging a length of wood in her hand. She dropped it, bent over the man, brought his arm sharply round, cuffed him.
‘Gotcha,’ she said. ‘You’re nicked, mate.’
‘Oh, very good … ’ The man was wriggling, trying to get up. Hurting himself even more in the process, but not stopping. ‘Just you wait, bitch … Do you know who I am?’
‘No sir, I don’t,’ said Anni. ‘But we’ll find out soon enough.’
‘I own this ship … and when I get up … I’ll take out your fucking eyeballs with my fingers … ’
‘Whatever.’
‘Bite your tongue out … ’ He wriggled some more. ‘Let … me … go … ’
Anni looked over at Mickey. ‘Give DI May a call, will you?’
‘You are in so much fucking trouble … ’ Fire burned in the man’s eyes. An ugly, twisted rage. ‘I’ll have your fucking jobs … I’ll take your fucking life … ’
‘That’s all well and good, sir,’ said Anni, tightening her grip on him. ‘Now can you tell us why two police officers have been kidnapped, brought on board and detained against their will?’
The man fell silent. Stopped moving.
‘I want my lawyer.’
Damn, thought Anni. The magic words. The custody clock had started ticking. She looked over at Mickey, who was still lying on the ground. ‘You OK?’
Mickey tried to sit up. Couldn’t. Flopped back down again. Winced from the pain. ‘What … d’you think?’
‘Chuck me your radio.’
It took a great deal of painful effort, but Mickey managed to send his radio sliding along the deck towards Anni. She picked it up and spoke into it without loosening her grip on Michael Sloane.
‘DI May, DC Hepburn here. We’ve apprehended a suspect who’s attacked DS Philips. He needs medical attention.’
DI May’s voice crackled back. ‘Good work, DC Hepburn. We’ll get that to him. And I was just about to call you,’ he said. ‘We’ve found them. Jessie and Deepak plus Helen Hibbert.’
‘They OK?’
‘They’ll need looking over by the paramedics too. They say it was the Sloanes who did this to them. Michael and Dee Sloane.’
Anni looked at the prone man, who had reacted to the name. ‘I think we’ve got Mr Sloane here.’
‘Don’t let him get away, DC Hepburn.’
She gave an extra squeeze. He wasn’t happy about it. ‘He’s not going anywhere, don’t worry.’
She cut the connection, looked over at Mickey. Smiled. ‘We make a good team, don’t we?’
Mickey managed to return the smile. ‘Yeah … ’
113
‘That it?’ Sandro peered through the windscreen. ‘Looks like it’s falling into the river.’
‘Looks like the river’s sucking it down,’ said Marina.
They had driven along the narrow road Marina had walked two days earlier. She found it hard to believe that it was only two days ago. So much had happened in such a small space of time. She parked in front of the house, turning her lights off as she made the approach. There were two cars there already. One that matched the kind of clunker Sandro would buy, the other a small, expensive sports car.
No police. They had managed to get there first. But they wouldn’t be far behind, so every second had to count.
Marina killed the engine, made to get out. Sandro placed a restraining hand on her arm. She looked at him, irritated to be held up. His eyes showed nothing but concern.
‘You sure about this? You don’t want to wait for your lot to arrive? There’s people there already. Might get a bit hairy.’
Marina closed her eyes tight, shook her head. ‘No, I can’t. Can’t wait. Josephina’s in there. We can’t wait any longer. We have to get her out straight away.’
Sandro nodded. ‘Fair enough. I’m coming with you.’
Marina didn’t answer. She just wanted to close her eyes, go to sleep. Make it all go away. Have a normal life again. She didn’t want to walk into a haunted-looking house to get her daughter back from a psychopath. She felt tears squeezing their way out of the corners of her eyes. Put her fists there to stop them.
‘Hey … ’ Sandro made to hug her.
‘Don’t,’ she said, pulling away. ‘If you do that, I’ll crumble. And if I crumble, I won’t want to go in there … ’
Sandro nodded, moved away from her. ‘OK. But don’t worry. I’ve got you, sis. We’re good.’
She squeezed his hand. Gave another nod.
They got out of the car. Made their way cautiously but quickly toward
s the house.
114
‘What’s so funny?’ asked Dee.
Amy shook her head. ‘Nothing. Nothing.’ She laughed again, as if she had just heard a great joke and was savouring the punchline.
Despite the reassuring presence of the Golem at her side, the laughter was starting to unnerve Dee. ‘I said, what’s so funny?’ she asked again, her voice louder, higher this time.
Amy straightened up. Retrained the gun on Dee. ‘You are.’
‘Me.’
‘Yes. You. You’re so sure of yourself, aren’t you? Always right. And even if you’re not, you’ve got enough money to convince everyone that you are. My money.’
Dee said nothing. Just waited. Let her say her piece, she thought. Then the Golem can deal with her and we can be gone.
‘So,’ said Amy, circling the gun, looking down the sights, smiling still, ‘what d’you think you’re going to do now?’
‘Me?’ said Dee. ‘Nothing. Not a thing.’ She gestured with her thumb towards the Golem, who had moved close beside her. Almost behind her. ‘He is.’
Amy kept the smile on her face, the gun pointed. She looked like she was struggling not to laugh.
Mad bitch, thought Dee. Time to finish this. ‘We can’t have you around any longer. Making accusations. Planning and plotting against us. Getting in the way … We’ve had enough. Time for it to stop.’
Amy giggled. It infuriated Dee.
‘You played a long game this time. And it failed. There’s no prize for second place.’
‘Oh,’ said Amy, ‘you’re so right. So right.’ She moved her attention from Dee to the Golem. Addressed him directly. ‘Remember our agreement?’ she said, her eyes suddenly unclouded by madness, just vicious, businesslike. ‘The money? The shares?’
The Golem nodded.
‘Good. Get on with it.’
Dee felt the Golem’s hand encircle her throat. She had no time to shout out, to plead for mercy. She had no time to prepare herself for death.
He snapped.
She only had time to die.