In Deep Water

by Sam Blake

  But despite Givens’s age, he was fit and experienced. As Farrell writhed on the ground, crying out with pain, Givens was back on his feet, pausing for a second to get his bearings and assess the enemy before he lunged. It was all Cathy needed, catching her breath she blurted out, ‘I’m Cat, Sarah Jane is my friend.’ As soon as the words were out she saw his posture change a fraction. ‘Thank you.’ She meant it. He might have kidnapped Sarah Jane, but it seemed that he’d kept her safe and now he was making sure she would stay safe. It wasn’t the way Cathy would have done things, but he operated in a different world.

  ‘Help me! I need help. Oh my God.’ Their eyes locked, Cathy and Givens were oblivious to Farrell.

  ‘You’re the cop?’

  ‘Yes, and Richard Farrell’s got a lot of explaining to do, not just about Sarah Jane.’

  Givens glanced at Farrell. He’d suddenly gone quiet, his face drained of colour. Cathy couldn’t tell if he’d just passed out or . . . A movement in the Aston Martin distracted her for a split second as a small blond-haired boy appeared between the front seats from the rear of the car, his face tear stained, eyes wide.

  Seeing his chance, Givens moved fast. As Cathy made eye contact with Jacob, wasting precious seconds frantically gesturing for him to duck down in the car, Givens was behind the wheel of the Range Rover and gunning the powerful engine. Cathy spun around, her gun raised to take out the tyres, but the vehicle was already accelerating. It was moving too fast, she didn’t have a clear shot and couldn’t risk a ricochet that might hit the Aston Martin. The wheels showered loose tarmac as he accelerated around Farrell’s car, the sound of sirens coming from Blessington suddenly filling the night air. Back-up.

  His lights off, Givens swung a left away from the bridge and Cathy could hear him accelerating up the hill.

  ‘Feck it . . .’ Muttering under her breath Cathy ran to check on Farrell. There would be plenty of time later for her to beat herself up about how she could have handled this better, but the registration number of the Range Rover was clear in her mind. Since he didn’t change the plates he wouldn’t get far.

  Lying in the pool of light cast by the Aston Martin’s headlights, Farrell was motionless, his chest soaked in blood. Cathy could feel Jacob watching her silently from inside the car as she checked for a pulse.

  It was weak, but she could see a flutter as his chest moved. He was alive.

  Looking up, she grinned at Jacob and pulled out her phone.

  42

  ‘Can’t you keep out of trouble for more than two minutes, Cat?’

  O’Rourke materialised out of the darkness, and Cathy realised she’d never been more grateful to hear his voice. Every muscle in her body was taut, her senses still heightened. She would have given him a hug if she hadn’t been standing in a car park full of her colleagues and there hadn’t been a small boy wrapped around her leg.

  But he was here now, thank goodness. She couldn’t relax yet, not until they found Sarah Jane, but at least she felt like her safety net was back in place.

  O’Rourke had been the first person she’d called after she’d made sure Jacob was OK, although she knew her version of the events that had unfolded in the car park hadn’t been entirely coherent – the key piece of information, the Range Rover’s registration plate, was the only thing that had been completely clear. He’d gotten the gist of what had happened, though, his voice strained as he’d asked her if she was OK. Then she’d called Jacob’s mum.

  Now O’Rourke was glowering at Farrell’s car, his hands buried in his overcoat pockets.

  ‘You sure he didn’t give any hints as to where he was holding Sarah Jane?’ O’Rourke looked at her hard, his eyebrows raised. He wasn’t cross with her for not asking, she knew that; he was cross because she’d gone and landed herself in yet another situation that could have gone badly wrong, and she’d given him a fright. She shook her head.

  ‘We’ve got search teams with dogs mobilising to check every building in a ten-mile radius from here.’ He checked his watch, ‘They will have started by now. This is an out of the way place to pick for a rendezvous – let’s hope it’s because he was holding her fairly close by.’

  Jacob craned his head around Cathy’s leg to get a proper look at O’Rourke. He had been holding on to her since the first cars had arrived and wasn’t letting go. Cathy knew the noise and lights, all the activity were overwhelming. She’d been anxious to play down the shooting, had thought he’d be distressed at seeing his dad wounded, but then she’d remembered her brother Tomás saying something about kids on the spectrum being unable to empathise. And as Jacob had emerged from the back of the Aston Martin, she’d realised he wasn’t seeing Farrell’s injuries with the same eyes anyone else would.

  The car park was full now, three patrol cars and an ambulance, a tech bureau van and O’Rourke’s BMW filling the spaces normally occupied by tourists. The forensics team were just getting started, erecting arc lights and laying down markers on the tarmac indicating the trajectory of the bullet. Givens’s gun, a Glock 9, the dull black metal hard to see in the dark, was still lying where she had kicked it.

  Since they’d arrived, Jacob had been fascinated, watching the techs in their white forensic overalls, his stream of questions constant. Soon they would start work on the Aston Martin, lifting fibres from the interior while the others worked outside taking measurements. The flash from their cameras was already adding to the surreal, science-fiction-movie-set feel as they took preliminary shots

  Across the car park, the paramedics were loading Farrell into the back of the ambulance. They’d taken a while to stabilise him. Admittedly getting shot in the chest wasn’t on anyone’s bucket list but, as one of the Blessington lads had muttered as he’d passed Cathy, there was ‘no better man’ more deserving of it.

  The paramedics pulled the rear door of their vehicle closed with a bang that made Cathy jump. The second Givens’s gun had discharged she’d been right back beside her Mini, the sound of the explosion that had shattered the windows around her, setting off every house alarm in the street, ringing again in her ears. Now every loud noise was testing her nerve.

  She threw O’Rourke a weak smile. Maybe it was her nerves, or the sound of his voice finally sinking in, but she could feel herself going pale, starting to shake. As if he could read her mind, O’Rourke turned to face her, putting his hands on her shoulders, steadying her, ducking so he could look in her eyes, his voice calming.

  ‘You’re OK, Cat. Everyone that matters is safe. We’ll find Sarah Jane. You did good.’ Cathy could feel her eyes filling. For a moment she wanted it to be just them, with the sound of the breeze worrying the trees above them and the slap of the water on the shore, and to lean into his shoulder and curl up there.

  Loosening his hold, O’Rourke reached out to ruffle Jacob’s hair. Still managing to hang on to Cathy’s leg, Jacob ducked out of reach and eyed O’Rourke suspiciously. It took Cathy a moment to catch her breath, tears burning her eyes. She brushed them away.

  ‘This is my boss, Jacob, he’s one of the good guys. You OK?’ Still clinging to her leg, he looked up at her, his eyes huge, trusting. Before she could say anything more a patrol car appeared, travelling fast over the bridge, blue lights cutting through the night.

  O’Rourke smiled down at Jacob, ‘I think this might be your mum. She’s going to be very pleased to see you.’

  ‘Will she have chocolate?’

  O’Rourke laughed, Jacob’s innocence defusing the moment. He bobbed down to his level. ‘If she doesn’t I’ll have a chat to her and see if I can organise some for you tomorrow, how’s that?’ Jacob’s smile said it all.

  A moment later the patrol car had swung into the entrance to the car park, the passenger door bursting open before it had even stopped. Rebecca Ryan jumped out and sprinted to Jacob, catching him in a hug that lifted him off his feet. He immediately started to struggle.

  ‘Thank God you’re OK. Thank God.’ Her words were lost in his neck
.

  ‘Get off me, Mummy, you’re hurting, and your fur’s tickly.’ Jacob pushed her arms away and rubbed his nose where the fur on her parka hood had irritated him. Rebecca pulled back, resting her hands on his shoulders instead, her eyes red. She took a breath, calming herself as she pushed a strand of hair out of her face where it had fallen from her hastily tied ponytail. ‘What a brilliant boy you are for calling me and keeping your phone on.’

  Jacob scowled, ‘I fell asleep. Daddy said I couldn’t call you, that it was too late, but you said—’

  Rebecca interrupted him, smiling, her eyes sparkling with tears, ‘I can’t sleep until I’ve spoken to you. Thank you, my darling.’

  Jacob wrinkled his face, frowning at her seriously, ‘We’ve got a deal.’

  ‘We have.’ She hugged him quickly again, pulling away before he could push her. Turning, Rebecca looked up at Cathy, ‘Thank you. Thank you so much.’

  Cathy smiled, fighting to keep her voice level, hiding the emotion swirling inside her, ‘No worries. He’ll need to give us a statement in the morning, but take him home to bed. He’s been brilliant, it’s been a busy night.’

  ‘A man shot Daddy, Mummy. Right there.’ Matter of factly Jacob pointed to the front of the Aston Martin where Cathy suddenly realised the tarmac was stained with blood. A lot of blood.

  ‘She flew through the air and stopped him. I saw her.’ Cat smiled at him. He reminded her of Tintin, with his freckles and cheeky grin. Then his face changed, his voice completely serious, as he looked at her, ‘You told me a big fib. You’re called Cat because you’re Cat Girl in real life.’

  Cathy couldn’t resist a smile, ‘I’m not sure about that. And the doctor said your Daddy’s going to be fine.’ She turned to Rebecca, ‘He got hit in the chest.’

  ‘Gosh, that must have been painful.’

  Rebecca’s sarcasm was lost on Jacob, who nodded, ‘He was yelling a lot.’

  ‘I bet.’

  ‘Can I look at the police car?’

  O’Rourke smiled, ‘Be our guest, it’ll be taking you home in a minute, but the boys can show you how everything works first.’

  Not waiting to be told twice, Jacob dragged Rebecca by the hand towards the car. She smiled at O’Rourke over her shoulder, shaking her head.

  ‘Look, Mummy . . .’

  Once they were out of earshot Cathy turned to him. ‘Have you spoken to McIntyre?’ Cathy could hear the exhaustion in her own voice. Christ, what a night.

  O’Rourke kept his voice low, conscious of the activity around them, ‘Briefly. I’m still not completely clear on the order of events, but I do know you’ve just apprehended a major suspect in a pan-European sex-trafficking gang that has a strong relationship with some big players in the drugs and gun-running worlds.’ He paused, ‘Would have been better if you’d got the hitman too, but we can’t have everything.’

  Cathy half smiled, ‘Is that enough to get me out of the shit for potentially being the alibi for a murder suspect?’

  O’Rourke rolled his eyes, ‘Your friend Aleksy came in voluntarily earlier tonight when he heard The Paradise Club had been raided. It seems he was doing bits of bar and maintenance work for them, but he hasn’t been there long.’ O’Rourke paused, ‘Apparently he’s been working covertly with the Criminal Assets Bureau who have an active interest in Farrell and his associates. He couldn’t say anything to you as Internal Affairs are all over it. There could be a few senior officers involved who are about to get shot down in flames by the sounds of it. And we’re not exactly flavour of the month with CAB as we’ve virtually blown his cover – when he started working there Nacek found out he did a bit of translation for us, and apparently thought it was very handy to have one of his guys working with the police so he was encouraging it. He thought Aleksy would let him know if we ever started to get interested in the place. That gave Aleksy an opportunity to liaise with CAB without exposing himself.’

  Her eyes fixed on the rough tarmac of the car park, Cathy nodded slowly. The guy in the jacket who had spoken to Aleksy in the bar was CAB, she was sure of it. It would have been helpful for her and O’Rourke to know The Paradise Club was under investigation, but she knew how these things worked. Protecting a valuable source and nailing someone like Farrell necessitated the highest level of secrecy. And she was sure CAB were saying the same thing about their investigation.

  O’Rourke continued, glancing around, making sure no one could hear him, ‘CAB have him in a safe house. He’s more than likely going to go into witness protection. From the sounds of it, Farrell’s operation was the linchpin in an international network.’ O’Rourke paused, ‘And from what I can gather, it sounds like he’s been looking out for Irina.’ Cathy raised her eyebrows. She knew Irina’s story had affected him. ‘But the good news is that he was clocked speeding on the N11 at 11.17 p.m. that Tuesday night. It looks like he left shortly after you did. It’s not an alibi yet, but at least he couldn’t have been in the mountains burying a body at the same time.’

  Thank God. But before Cathy could respond her phone began to vibrate in her pocket. McIntyre.

  He spoke before she did, ‘You OK, girl?’

  Cathy glanced at O’Rourke, mouthing ‘The Boss’, before replying, ‘I’m good. You missed the best axe kick I’ve ever done.’

  She could almost hear him smiling, ‘You’re a champion, girl, I keep telling you. What happened?’

  ‘Let’s just say Dave Givens is fast. I stopped him shooting Farrell dead, but he made a run for it. We’ve an alert out for his vehicle.’

  O’Rourke raised his hand, indicating that Cathy needed to be careful what she said. On the other side of the car park Jacob had finished inspecting the car. Rebecca grabbed his hand and bent down to whisper in his ear. He smiled happily and they both headed back towards Cathy, skirting Farrell’s Aston Martin.

  ‘I’ve got to go, can I call you later?’

  ‘Keep me posted, girl.’

  Cathy clicked off the phone as Rebecca and Jacob arrived beside them. O’Rourke smiled at Jacob, ‘I think your ride is ready, young man – must be time to get home to bed?’

  Rebecca ruffled Jacob’s hair, but he ducked out of the way, ‘It certainly is. Come on, soldier, I’ve got a mug of hot chocolate with your name on it at home.’

  ‘What about the plane, at the airport? It’s waiting for us.’

  ‘I’ve sorted that out, don’t worry. How about you and I go on a plane another time?’

  Jacob nodded and slipped his hand into Rebecca’s. ‘I told Daddy it was silly to go at night. Can we go in the police car now?’

  O’Rourke grinned, ‘You certainly can.’ He gestured to the driver, calling over to him, ‘The full service.’

  The Guard tipped his hat in response and held the rear door open ceremoniously for Jacob to jump in. Glancing at them, Rebecca paused before she headed back to the car. She turned, her eyes meeting Cathy’s, ‘Thank you, really.’

  Cathy held up her hand, ‘Without Jacob’s skills of observation we’d have been in the dark on a lot of things. He’s the one I should be thanking.’

  A moment later the blue strobes were flashing and the driver flipped the siren into a wolf whistle as he pulled away.

  O’Rourke turned to Cathy and rubbed her shoulder again like he was checking she was still there. His touch was like electricity. ‘You sure you’re OK?’

  ‘Better now.’

  ‘Come on, it’s cold, and we still need to find Sarah Jane. The boys can bring your car back – I’ll drive you home.’

  43

  O’Rourke’s phone started to ring almost the moment they got into his car. Pulling it out of his jacket pocket, he stuck his keys in the ignition and sat back in the driver’s seat as he answered. Buckling her seatbelt, Cathy glanced across at him. His face was partially lit by the cold hard light the technical bureau were using to illuminate the scene around Farrell’s Aston Martin. He looked exhausted. They all were. But they still needed to find Sarah
Jane.

  She looked out of the window across the lake, the moon reflecting off the brooding, rippling water for a moment before the clouds closed around it.

  ‘Say that again slowly for me.’ There was something about the tone of O’Rourke’s voice that made Cathy swing around to look at him. He glanced across the car, his eyes meeting hers with a look that had Cathy immediately alert and sitting forward in her seat.

  ‘Northern Irish accent? And he said Hollywood? Definitely Hollywood, County Wicklow, not County Down?’ He paused as the caller answered, ‘Got it, I’ll put a call in to Assistant Commissioner Connolly, we’ll need the Emergency Response Unit up here with a crisis negotiator. All roads in and out of the location closed. We’re only about ten minutes away. Nobody moves till I get there.’

  He clicked off the phone and immediately dialled another number. Cathy held her breath, desperate to ask what was going on, but this wasn’t the moment. She kept quiet. He glanced across at her as his call connected.

  ‘Niamh? It’s O’Rourke.’ He paused while she answered, ‘Yes, Cat’s safe, she’s here with me. We’ve had a tip-off that Sarah Jane’s being held in a cottage near Hollywood. Caller described her in detail, it sounds kosher. The guy in the middle of this is ex-British special forces. I need the ERU to attend.’ Cathy couldn’t hear her sister-in-law’s reply but she could see from O’Rourke’s face that it was an affirmative.

  ‘Thanks, Niamh, I’ll keep you briefed.’

  Passing Cathy his phone, he gunned the engine, swinging the car around in a spray of gravel, accelerating to the mouth of the car park. He paused for a split second, flicked on the high beams and, leaning forward in his seat, his focus fully on the junction ahead, pulled out onto the road. Cathy couldn’t wait any longer.

  ‘What’s happened?’