‘I don’t know what to think,’ she said despondent. But she conceded to herself that the detective’s story did make a lot of sense.
‘And if they’ve gone to all that trouble, then we must assume that they still want it,’ he said slowly and softly. ‘I think you are in danger, Ella. I think that whoever has the painting now may be in danger too.’
‘Darren!’ Ella gasped, she looked up at the detective with her mouth open. The detective smiled wryly, then coughed and composed himself. Ella was too worried to notice.
‘I recommend we pick up the painting and take it to the station for safe keeping,’ DC Pepper proposed. ‘Just until my team can work out what’s going on. My car is outside, we should get going as soon as possible.’ Expectantly the detective looked to Ella for a decision.
Despite her reservations, Ella knew she could not risk putting Darren in danger. She felt terrible already. Nodding agreement, she pulled out her mobile phone. ‘Okay, let’s go,’ she said. ‘I’ll call the museum now.’
Chapter 15
1359hrs – Cambridge
Darren agreed to meet Ella and the detective at the museum immediately. Ella knew Darren had noted the poorly concealed panic in her voice. She was comforted by thought of meeting her friend, but, frustratingly, the journey took much longer than she had judged. The afternoon traffic crawled along the crammed streets of Cambridge at a frustrating pace, as they waited in queue after queue hoards of cyclists sped past them. The stench of stale smoke from the detective made Ella feel ill. The car was a mess too; old tissues and chocolate bar wrappers were strewn all over the floor and seats. Ella couldn’t wait to get out into the fresh air.
‘It’s just up there, on the left,’ Ella hurriedly pointed out as they approached.
After narrowly missing a careless cyclist, DC Pepper hauled the car onto the side of the road and parked, illegally, on the roadside by the Fitzwilliam museum. Ella undid her seatbelt and climbed out of the car as fast as she could, she noticed that the detective hadn’t bothered with his own seat belt. He stayed in the car a few moments longer tapping away on his phone. Ella left him and shot up the steps. A moment later the detective followed behind, he slid his phone into his pocket.
In the reception hall, Darren was already there waiting, the painting was in his hand. When she saw him, Ella smiled for the first time that afternoon and rushed over to greet him with a hug.
‘What’s going on babes?’ Darren asked, squeezing her tightly. ‘Are you okay?’
‘I’m fine now. Columbo’s on the case,’ she whispered quietly and sarcastically into Darren’s ear. She explained everything to Darren; the burglary, the stolen laptop and DC Pepper’s theory on the case.
‘Is this what the copper wanted?’ Darren handed Ella the framed painting.
Ella took it and frowned. It looked different somehow. Francis Perryvall was still there holding the gold book, but something wasn’t right. She looked at Darren questioningly, but he just winked at her and said nothing as the detective approached.
‘Is that the painting?’ DC Pepper wheezed. He reached out to inspect the evidence.
‘Yeah,’ Darren replied coldly before Ella could answer. ‘What are you going to do with it? We can secure it here no problem if that’s the issue. The vaults are secure enough to store multi-million pound masterpieces. We use them all the time.’ Darren directed the last sentence towards Ella.
‘I’m sure you do. But best that it comes to the station along with Ms Moore, just until we can guarantee her safety,’ DC Pepper explained. ‘They will both be in safe hands.’ He gestured to the exit, indicating to Ella that it was time to go.
‘Did you manage to find anything more out about it?’ Ella asked Darren, ignoring the detective’s impatience.
‘A bit,’ he put his arm around Ella and spoke quietly so only she could hear. ‘It’s oil on canvas, probably painted in the late eighteenth-century. But I still don’t know who the artist was. As for Mr Perryvall, I couldn’t find anyone by that name. There’s no other paintings or sculptures of him. But it’s early days, I’ll see what else I can find out in the meantime.’
The detective coughed impatiently. He raised his eyebrows at Ella.
‘Thanks, Darren. I’ll call you later,’ Ella said reluctantly and made a move to the exit.
‘I’ll be waiting for your release back into the community,’ Darren joked.
Ella smiled and waved. Darren stood by the entrance and watched them drive off.
*
While they were stopped at traffic lights a few streets down, DC Pepper took out his mobile phone and made a call. Much to Ella’s shock, not only did he not wear his seatbelt, but he didn’t use a handsfree set either. The lights turned green and the detective accelerated away with the phone pushed to his ear. Ella shook her head and looked out of the passenger window.
‘We’re on our way now,’ DC Pepper said into the phone. ‘We have everything.’ He listened for a moment and then ended the call.
‘Where are we going?’ asked Ella.
‘To the station, it’s not that far from the town.’
‘Which station?’
‘The CID office in Capital Park. We’re not based in the main headquarters, we have an old converted house near the Fulbourn hospital. It’s a lovely place to work.’
From the landmarks they passed, Ella guessed that they were headed south out of Cambridge. After a few minutes they passed Addenbrooke’s hospital on their right, then took a left turn onto a minor road and headed towards Fulbourn. When they were free of the traffic lights and speed cameras, the detective sped up and they headed into the Cambridgeshire countryside.
Feeling uneasy, Ella had the urge to hear a friendly voice. She took out her phone and looked through the contacts.
‘Who are you calling,’ the detective asked sharply.
‘My mother,’ Ella replied defensively, unimpressed with his tone.
‘I don’t think you should do that. Best that she doesn’t know anything at the moment. For her safety as much as yours.’
‘That’s ridiculous,’ Ella said and continued to make the call.
‘I said don’t,’ the detective shouted and snatched the phone from Ella’s hand. ‘It’s too dangerous.’
Ella’s face flushed red, her eyes widened. ‘Give it back!’ she demanded. ‘You’ve no right, I’m not under arrest.’
‘Sit back and keep quiet,’ the detective ordered.
‘I’ve had enough of this. Stop the car and let me out. I’ll take my chances on my own thanks.’
To Ella’s surprise, the car slowed. The detective pulled the car over to the left hand side of the empty rural road and onto the grass verge. He stopped and pulled on the handbrake. Ella pulled on the door handle. It was locked. She turned to the detective to speak.
In one swift move he pulled a small revolver out of his concealed shoulder holster with his right hand. With his left hand he reached over and grabbed Ella by the back of her neck. He thrust the pistol into her mouth, pushing it in hard.
It happened too quickly for Ella to do anything. Her eyes opened wide as she felt the cold metal pressed into her mouth. She tried to push him away, but he was too strong and had the upper hand. The short barrel of the pistol hit the back of her throat and made her gag. The man’s firm grip around her neck was slowing blood flow, he pushed his thumb into her carotid vein, she felt faint and weak.
‘Mmmf, mmm, mmff,’ Ella squealed in terror. Saliva built up in her mouth, she could taste the cold metal when she swallowed.
‘Shut the fuck up, bitch,’ the detective shouted into her ear. Then his voice softened. ‘Listen, shhh, quiet now. Stop struggling or you are fucking dead. Understand?’
Ella dropped her hands by her side and froze. She nodded and stared wide eyed into his mad eyes petrified of what he might do next.
‘Do everything I tell you and you will be okay. I do not want to harm you, understand?’
Ella nodded vigorously
.
The detective looked into her wide, watery eyes. Slowly, the muzzle was withdrawn from her mouth. He kept the side of the cold weapon on her cheek. Slowly, he moved it downwards along her neck, then down onto her shoulder and down further to her chest. He paused.
Ella noticed his breathing was heavy and shaky. Her pulse raced, she began to feel cold. Stay with it, she told herself. She wasn’t going to allow herself to be a victim.
The detective snapped the gun back, sat back in his seat and sighed deeply. He took some deep breaths, then he picked up Ella’s phone from his lap and pulled the battery out of it.
‘Do exactly as you are told from now on,’ he ordered. ‘Do you understand? Don’t fuck with me girl, or you’ll regret it.’
Ella nodded and sniffed, she began to shiver. She wiped the tears from her face with her sleeve.
With the pistol still in his hand, the detective switched the radio on and drove off up the road as if nothing had happened.
After a few miles, Ella realised that they had long passed the turn-off for Fulbourn. They were travelling even further south. On each side of the quiet country road was farmland. The fields were separated by hedges and the along the road on each side ran a dry stone wall topped with barbed wire.
Ella calmed herself with controlled breaths and tried to think clearly, logically. She wondered why he had taken the battery out of her phone rather than just confiscate it. He had lied to her about the location of the CID station. Was the burglary a lie too? Was he even a policeman? It seemed unlikely now. Anger brewed up in her, she stared straight ahead. She had never been a victim of crime before and it was looking bad. Very bad. She was completely at the mercy of this psychopath. What did he want, she wondered, the painting or her? Whatever it was he had proved he was willing to do anything to get it. Her thoughts wandered to the future. What would become of her when he had finished with her? She knew what the usual result was: news reports, searches in fields, appeals by the family and friends. There was no way she was going to allow herself to become a statistic. How dare he do this to her, she had her whole life ahead of her. She couldn’t allow it to happen. She wouldn’t allow it to happen. Her blood boiled. She resolved to take action.
As the car sped down the narrow road, Ella lurched to the side and grabbed the steering wheel. In one swift, sharp and firm movement she pulled down on it hard.
To the shock and disbelief of the detective the car instantly turned towards the left hand side of the road and headed at speed straight for the stone wall. For a very brief moment, a second at most, the detective struggled with the wheel trying to pull the car back on the road. But it was too little too late.
With a violent jolt, the car smashed into the raised grass verge. The contents of the car were thrown upwards. There was an almighty smash and everything surged forward with neck breaking force. The air bags exploded, the windscreen smashed. The car broke through the wall and rolled over and over into the field beyond.
The vehicle came to a halt upside down in the grassy field. Covered in clumps of grass and mud, the engine whined and the front wheels spun. When the engine stopped, all was quiet save for the birds that sung in the trees.
Chapter 16
0612hrs – Bedfordshire
The morning air was still, all that could be heard was the tweeting and chirping of the birds in the trees. Keeping himself hidden in the grass and shrubs on the opposite side of the main road, William watched the house. There had been no movement for the last hour.
A green Range Rover appeared from behind the house and the morning calmness was broken by the sound of gravel crunching under wheel. William took several close-ups of the car and driver. The blond man was behind the wheel, no one else was in the vehicle. At the T-junction, the car turned left and drove down the road that William had come from the previous day.
When the coast was clear, William crept over to the Portable Cell Site device and retrieved it. He returned to his car, checked the data it had captured and called Ollie.
‘I’ve just emailed you the IMEI number of a new target, Ollie’ William said. He was feeling slightly weary having failed to sleep properly and fantasized over a strong espresso and a bacon sandwich. ‘How quickly can you get it on the system?’
‘Hold on . . . Done,’ Ollie replied.
‘Good man. I’ve also emailed some pictures to you and Sarah. Let me know if you find out anything interesting from them.’
‘Bit early for Sarah. I’ll catch up with her when she’s in.’
‘She emailed me the results of her research on the mansion last night,’ William revealed. ‘She must have worked late on it. The place is called Rockcliffe Hall, owned by Sir Arthur Anthony Tempest, a wealthy aristocrat. The house is privately owned, built in the seventeenth-century. During the Second World War it was used as a training base for the Special Operations Executive.’
‘Impressive,’ Ollie said. The SOE was a fascination of his.
‘Police and intelligence checks on Sir Arthur himself revealed nothing other than an old allegation of insider share dealing that was unproven.’
‘I assume Sarah has also mapped all his bank accounts, his companies, phone calls and his trips abroad?’
‘Of course. But other than being enviably rich, there is nothing of intelligence interest. Well, almost nothing,’ William said.
‘Go on,’
Well, one of his many companies, TempestInvest, is located in the Gherkin.’
‘Okay, William, we’re in. Your new target is headed eastwards away from Rockcliffe Hall. Probably heading back to the A1,’ Ollie said. ‘And look here, I’ve traced the number. It’s a company phone registered to TempestInvest. There’s no GPS module in it so we only have the triangulation to work with.’
Keeping a reasonably safe distance from his target, William followed Ollie’s instructions. The target had taken the A1 south. The motorway was quiet, but would undoubtedly get increasingly busier with the morning rush. William knew that in light traffic he would be easily burned if he took any silly risks. He would only close the gap he kept when the target pulled off onto a town or city.
After half an hour it was clear the target was headed towards the city of Cambridge. The traffic levels had increased and provided decent cover for William. He followed the Range Rover closely through the streets of Cambridge.
Without performing any anti-surveillance tricks, the target navigated its way into a residential area and parked up on a quiet street. William found a suitable spot and pulled in. He sat and watched from a safe distance.
His phone buzzed, the caller ID informed him that Sarah was calling on a secure line. ‘Afternoon,’ he said sarcastically.
‘Very funny. Some of us have a life you know.’
‘So while I was up all night stuck in a mud filled, rat infested ditch, you were out on a date were you?’ William teased. ‘Who’s the lucky geek?’
‘Shut up, I don’t date geeks.’
‘So it was a date?’
‘It wasn’t a date,’ Sarah giggled. ‘And I’m sure there weren’t all that many rats. I thought you were used to it, soldier-boy. Getting soft in your old age?’
‘Old? Cheeky rapscallion!’
‘I have some information for you.’
‘Already? Did your boyfriend have to get up for school?’
Ignoring William’s puerile teasing, Sarah got to the point. ‘Listen, I’ve been researching the material you sent. It’s been quite revealing. There’s some interesting stuff from the registration number of one of the helicopters. It’s owned by an infamous Australian mining magnate called Carl Schoenberg.’
‘Never heard of him.’
‘Several of his companies have been investigated for corruption and suspected arms dealing. Worryingly, he was on an MI6 watch list for possible involvement in the smuggling of Uranium, but nothing was ever proven.’
‘A pleasant guy then.’
‘A notorious playboy by the looks of it, married severa
l times. News reports say that after losing millions in divorce number one, he forced each subsequent trophy wife to sign a pre-nuptial. The most recent scandal is from one ex who sold her story to the press, she talks of wild sex parties and secret societies.’
‘Sounds like fun. Can anyone join?’
‘I doubt it. Schoenberg’s silk-tongued lawyers had her branded as a bitter former drug addict who couldn’t be believed. The negative press got the better of her and one night, after a night of partying at a London club, she took a fatal overdose of cocaine and died in her hotel.’
‘So he had her killed,’ William stated. He knew how easy it was to kill a drug addict and make it look like an accident, a mere self inflicted overdose.
‘That would be my guess. Anyway, the owner of the mansion, Sir Arthur, is beginning to look interesting too. But I’ll update you on everything when you’re back in the office.’
‘Fair enough. No idea when I’ll be back, but everything is in good hands.’
‘For now,’ Sarah said then paused on the line. She debated whether she should tell him about Pinkerton.
‘Still there? Something bothering you?’
‘Look, William. Albert is taking a real interest in this and has demanded regular updates from me. He’s reiterated the importance of the circle of knowledge.’
William laughed.
‘He said that he will be authorising all further operations on this case and nothing is to be done without his knowledge,’ Sarah explained.
‘Of course. He wouldn’t want to miss out on anything that might get him his knighthood,’ William said cynically. ‘Look, I’ve got to go now. Speak later.’
William used his mirrors to look up and down the street. It was getting busy. He switched his phone to silent. He had a plan.
*
When the Russian disappeared into the flat across the street, William left his car and walked casually up to the side of the Range Rover. Squatting down, he pretended to tie his shoelace. After a quick glance up and down the pavement he placed a magnetic GPS beacon under the vehicle. After double checking the number on the door of the flat, he walked back to his own car and called Sarah.
The Secret of Hades' Eden Page 13