‘What crook?’
‘Inspector Peter Savage of the Metropolitan Police. I worked with him for most of my fifteen years on the force. We never really got on. Well, I say we never really got on – we hated each other. He was one of the main reasons I quit. He’s a bully and a cheat. He doesn’t care how he gets his convictions. He’ll intimidate witnesses to get them to say whatever he needs, and then if that doesn’t work he simply plants his own evidence.’
‘If he was so corrupt, wouldn’t someone find him out?’ said Anna.
The elevator reached the thirty-eighth floor and Roscoe led them down the hallway.
‘I did. But the high-ups didn’t want to hear it. Peter Savage delivers convictions so he’s worth his weight in gold, whatever the collateral damage.’
Roscoe used his access pass to open the main door to the Presidential Suite. Stepping inside, he felt warm spring air blow through the room from the open balcony door. How different to the horrors that had taken place only a few minutes before, he thought. But as the curtains billowed into the room, his heart dropped as he saw their pure-white fabric had been daubed in blood.
Reluctantly, Anna followed Roscoe out onto the balcony, where she saw the remains of the rope the killer had used to hang his hostage from the balcony frame. Seeing the blood sprayed across the balcony floor, she knew she didn’t want to see any more and stepped back into the suite. Thinking of the horror Jackson Harlington had suffered, she walked through into the suite’s dining room, where she found beer bottles scattered across the table and a half-eaten supermarket sandwich sitting in the middle of a Royal Doulton china dinner plate.
‘Jon,’ she called as Roscoe made his way into the suite’s main bedroom. ‘In here.’
‘Looks like he made himself at home,’ said Roscoe, picking up the sandwich bag before dropping it back onto the table. ‘Must have been here a while before he struck.’
‘Shouldn’t we wait for the police now?’ asked Anna.
‘Yes, he should,’ said a voice at the suite door. Roscoe had been expecting it. ‘I’d have thought retired inspector Jon Roscoe would have known better than to tamper with the evidence at a crime scene – unless, of course, he has something to hide.’
The last time Roscoe had seen Peter Savage had been on the day he’d resigned from the police force. The final case they’d worked on together had seen a casino security guard accused of assault and attempted murder. From the outset, Savage was certain the security guard was guilty. To him it was an obvious fit. A steroid-pumped security guard was an easy target to tailor for a conviction.
But Roscoe wasn’t so certain.
Surveillance cameras both inside and outside the casino offered no conclusive evidence. For Savage, however, this meant a perpetrator who knew how to avoid being seen. It was simply a case of finding the evidence to convict his man and he ignored the fact that the two victims had been involved in a fight in a nearby pub earlier in the day.
No DNA evidence against the security guard existed until Savage was left alone to carry out a second sweep.
Suddenly the evidence materialised.
A conviction followed that Roscoe knew in his heart was dirty.
He raised an internal investigation with his superiors but it was swept away. The day the Internal Investigation Unit delivered its report was Roscoe’s last day as a member of the Metropolitan Police. He resigned that day and never returned.
‘Is this lovely lady checking in for the night?’ said Savage, looking at Anna Conquest. ‘You here to carry her bags, Roscoe? Sorry I’m not here for a longer stay myself or you could have checked me in as well – earned yourself a nice tip.’
‘Don’t start, Savage,’ replied Roscoe, not putting any effort into hiding his dislike of the man. ‘We’ve got one dead man and another one badly injured.’
‘And a third man who has no jurisdiction, so butt out. I want you back down in the lobby right now.’
As they rode the elevator back down, Savage turned to Roscoe. ‘You look bloody horrendous. What have you been doing?’
‘Trying to catch a killer – while you were taking your time getting here.’
When the elevator doors opened on the lobby, Savage looked across at Stanley, still lying on the floor receiving treatment from the paramedics.
‘What happened to the big man?’
Roscoe bristled at Savage’s goading but Anna put her hand on his arm.
‘He was stabbed in pursuit of the killer,’ Roscoe said.
‘Pretty slow pursuit’s my guess,’ Savage laughed. ‘We’ll need to speak to him before you take him away,’ he continued, speaking directly to the two paramedics.
‘Afraid we have to get him out of here as soon as he’s stabilised,’ replied the lead paramedic. ‘He won’t be speaking to anybody right now.’
‘I can tell you what happened,’ said Roscoe, standing beside the inspector. ‘The killer was wearing a ski mask so we don’t have a description. Stanley tackled him on the stairs, the killer pulled a knife and Stanley got stabbed. After that, the killer headed back up into the hotel.’
‘So we’re saying we’ve got this crazy guy running around somewhere upstairs but we have no real idea where?’
‘Would seem like it,’ Roscoe agreed.
Roscoe watched as Savage drew himself up, filling out his chest, as he readied himself to take control. He’d seen it a thousand times before.
‘Then I want everyone in the building brought down to the lobby and they remain here until I say otherwise. Starting with you, Roscoe.’
CHAPTER 8
ROSCOE STEPPED ASIDE as, refusing to answer any questions, Savage and his team issued instructions to everyone in the lobby. No one was to leave the area. Confusion continued to reign and all those who only a few minutes before had appeared so eager to come inside the hotel now suddenly felt trapped.
Were they in danger or were they under suspicion? All of them were to be interviewed as witnesses and could not leave the building until statements had been taken. Roscoe knew that Savage would be determined not to be the one to let a killer slip through his fingers.
Voices began to be raised as guests expecting a four-course lunch accompanied by some of Europe’s finest wines found themselves imprisoned inside the hotel, and the rising discontent became an audible aggression when a blanket ban on the use of all mobile phones was issued. How were they to report live on the developing story to the outside world, especially one they now found themselves at the centre of? Roscoe watched tempers becoming increasingly frayed as Savage made threats of arrest in an attempt to gain control of the situation.
Roscoe was standing next to Anna Conquest as the phone on her lobby desk started to ring. She stepped across and picked up the handset. A hollow voice came on the line, and Roscoe heard it demand to speak to whoever was in charge. As she was trained to do, Anna politely asked who was calling but she and Roscoe already knew.
It was the killer.
She quickly beckoned to Roscoe, who moved across towards her but as he did so Savage jumped forward and attempted to snatch the phone from Anna’s hand. Too quick for him, she moved the phone from one hand to the other and spoke to both men.
‘He says he wants to speak to whoever is in charge.’
‘Then that would be me, wouldn’t it, Ms Conquest?’ said Savage.
Roscoe nodded in the direction of Savage, indicating to Anna she should give him the phone.
‘This is Inspector Savage of the Metropolitan Police. I’m the person in charge here.’
‘I think you’ll find, Inspector, I’m the person in charge now,’ said the voice on the phone.
‘Who is this?’ asked Savage, anger rising in his voice.
‘I’m the new hotel manager. I wanted to call you personally to remind you how much we pride ourselves in the special individual treatment each one of our very honoured guests receives here at Tribeca Luxury Hotels. Please rest assured today will be no exception.’
�
��I don’t know who you are, but you should give yourself up while you have the chance. I have armed men entering the building as we speak. Walk down the stairs and enter the lobby with your hands placed behind your head.’
‘Inspector, please. Raised voices are not part of the Tribeca ethos. We are so very happy you were able to join us here today. As with all Tribeca guests, you should want for nothing during your stay. If there is anything you need, please don’t hesitate to contact me personally.’
Unable to control his growing anger, Savage’s voice continued to rise. ‘I want you to know the hotel is being placed into lockdown. There will be no way in and no way out,’ he shouted. ‘We will search the building floor by floor until we have you cornered. You should take the opportunity to give yourself up while you can.’
But the voice on the phone remained calm. ‘As hotel manager, I have to say how sorry I am Jackson Harlington had to cut short his stay. The last thing we ever want is a dissatisfied guest. Hopefully we went some way towards making his stay a memorable one.’
There was a pause.
‘And Inspector, please do be assured you’ll be hearing from me again once you’ve had a chance to fully settle in and acquaint yourself with our luxurious surroundings. I like to ensure as many of our guests as possible receive my own very special attention.’
CHAPTER 9
ROSCOE WATCHED AS Savage slammed down the phone before turning to face him.
‘We’re dealing with a madman. He’s completely insane.’
‘Any specific demands?’
‘Nothing. We’re not going to be able to negotiate. He thinks he’s running the hotel. Said he hoped I would enjoy my stay. Total nut job. We’ve got to close this place down, no one in, no one out. In the end he’ll be left with nowhere to hide.’
But Roscoe was concerned at the thought of keeping over a hundred people trapped in the hotel.
‘I think you’re wrong. We need to start getting these people out of here. They’re not safe. Any one of them could be the next target.’ He softened his tone, remembering the best way to get Savage on side was to flatter his oversized ego. ‘Peter, nobody can run this kind of operation the way you can. You’ve already established a dialogue. Wherever he was phoning from we know it wasn’t this lobby, which means it’s safe for you to make the call and start getting people evacuated.’
‘That always was your problem – looking for the easy option,’ said Savage. ‘Any one of these people could be involved. They might even be working in conjunction with our man on the phone.
‘I see it like this,’ he explained. ‘Our man kills Harlington on the thirty-eighth floor. Next thing we know, he’s stabbing your guy on the fourth floor. That sounds to me like he moves pretty quick. Who’s to say we aren’t dealing with more than one madman here? You’ve got to learn to take these things one step at a time, Roscoe. Slowly, slowly, catchee monkey – that’s the way to do things.’
He turned away from Roscoe to repeat his instruction that nobody was to enter or leave the building without his personal say-so.
Roscoe took a deep breath to control his anger.
‘Peter, this is a siege. We should be getting these people out of here. This isn’t a time for slowly, slowly.’
Savage walked across to Roscoe and leant into him.
‘I’m not going to argue about this. At the very least these people are witnesses. Why would I let them walk outside to do a string of media interviews? Any one of them could be linked to Jackson Harlington’s murder. A business deal gone bad? He was a rich man, wasn’t he? Any one of these folk could have come here for revenge.’ He paused and looked around the lobby. ‘Nobody leaves this building.’
‘I can’t listen to you any more,’ said Roscoe, stepping away.
But Savage refused to let him go.
‘When I say anyone here could have been involved, Roscoe, I’m including you. Any kind of security in this place to begin with, and I wouldn’t need to be here now to clean up your mess.’
Roscoe’s long-running disdain for the inspector boiled suddenly to the surface. Turning quickly, he shaped to hit him. But before he had the chance to throw his punch, Anna stepped in, taking hold of his arm, telling him Savage wasn’t worth it. Roscoe watched Savage smirk, knowing he had let the serving officer get under his skin.
‘Let me ask you this, Savage,’ Roscoe said, leaning in towards his former colleague. ‘Do you have any idea how many ways there are in and out of this building? No? I can tell you. There are sixteen. You’ve got what, six, eight men? You can’t hope to secure a building of this size. We need to act now or Jackson Harlington’s killer will be gone.’
Savage stepped back, intimidated as much by Roscoe’s superior thinking as by his superior physique.
‘Trust me, Roscoe, he’s still here. I spoke to him. I’m telling you, he’s going nowhere. And neither are you.’
Roscoe accepted that the one thing Savage was probably right about was the fact the killer was still in the hotel. It was impossible to know where, but after stabbing Stanley he had made his choice to stay in the building.
He looked across as the paramedics lifted Stanley onto a stretcher and prepared to wheel him out of the building. He turned to Savage.
‘Peter, this man needs to get to a hospital,’ he said. ‘If he’s to have any hope of recovery he can’t be held here a second longer.’
Savage stared at Roscoe, bringing his hand to his mouth but saying nothing.
Roscoe moved closer to him.
‘I said no one was to leave,’ repeated Savage.
Another inch forward.
‘But okay, I’ll make an exception,’ said Savage. ‘He can go,’ he told the paramedics.
‘Thank you,’ spat Roscoe. ‘Always so humane.’
‘Don’t thank me, Roscoe. Your man looks like he’ll be dead by the time he reaches the emergency room.’
Roscoe ignored Savage and ran towards the exit, stopping the paramedics before they wheeled Stanley out of the building.
‘Hang in there, Stanley,’ he said. ‘You’re going to be okay, I know you are.’
Stanley opened his eyes.
‘You get him, boss. Get him for me.’
‘Don’t worry, I will.’ And before Roscoe could say any more the paramedics pushed Stanley through the door and out to the waiting ambulance.
From inside the lobby, Roscoe watched them carefully load him in the emergency vehicle before repeating to himself, ‘Don’t worry, Stanley, I will. Whatever it takes.’
CHAPTER 10
JON ROSCOE STOOD at the cathedral-like windows which poured light onto the marbled lobby of the Tribeca Luxury Hotel. He felt a physical pain as the ambulance accelerated away, lighting up its sirens as it went.
‘Where do I go next, Stanley?’ he asked himself.
‘He wanted to speak to us,’ he told himself, paging through the events of the last hour in his head. ‘He wanted to talk to whoever was in charge, wanted to taunt us, to show us he was in control. He might be crazy but he knows what he’s doing. And he’s not done yet, Stanley. But where is he? Where was he calling from? We know he must have been in the hotel.
‘Of course!’ he called out, causing those around him to turn and stare. He sprinted across the lobby. ‘Anna! Anna! Can you tell where he was calling from? The killer?’
Anna picked up the phone on her desk and clicked through the calls she’d received.
‘An internal phone on the twenty-fifth floor.’
‘You’re certain?’
‘Absolutely. This gives me a floor-by-floor breakdown.’
‘Can you see what room?’
‘It was a hallway phone.’
‘So why the twenty-fifth? What’s taken him there?’ Roscoe stood beside Anna’s desk while she clicked on her computer.
She turned to him, a look of dread on her face.
‘Jon, twenty-five – it’s where Jackson Harlington’s family are staying. The Royal Garden Suite.’
He handed Anna his security pass. ‘If you enter my details you’ll be able to access the cameras on twenty-five.’
Roscoe leant across to Anna’s desk as she typed in his passcode. In a split second an image of the hallway on the twenty-fifth floor appeared on Anna’s monitor. He flicked from one camera image to the next but all they could see was silence.
The hallway was deserted.
Nothing was out of place.
Roscoe took in a sharp breath. ‘I’ve got to get up there.’
Neither Roscoe nor Anna Conquest had noticed the approach of Peter Savage as they viewed the images.
‘Get up where?’ demanded Savage.
Roscoe said nothing.
‘Perhaps you’d like to be the one who shares, Ms Conquest?’
Anna looked up at Jon. He knew this wasn’t her battle to fight.
‘The twenty-fifth floor,’ said Roscoe. ‘We think it’s where he was calling from. And we know it’s where the Harlington family are staying.’
‘And you thought it was smart to keep that to yourself, did you, Rambo? This is a police investigation, not an opportunity for hotel security to play detective. I’ll take an armed unit up in the elevator. Roscoe, you can stay here and answer the phones.’
Savage called across two armed officers and quickly briefed them with a plan to access the twenty-fifth floor. The elevators would be unlocked and he would travel with them in the express elevator. On reaching the hallway, they would secure the space before accessing the three separate suites that covered the floor. They would start with the Royal Garden Suite, where Jackson Harlington had been staying with his wife and daughter.
Savage turned to Roscoe.
‘Unlock the elevators.’
Realising he had no choice, Roscoe walked across the lobby and keyed in the security code. Savage pressed the button to call the express elevator but as soon as he did the neighbouring elevator began a descent from the twenty-fifth floor.
The Hostage: BookShots (Hotel Series) Page 3