More thunder as Mick’s Hi-Point C-9 pistol fired. Half its ten-round magazine gone in seconds. The van swerved left and right. He heard the clang of metal striking metal at high speed, but no tyre popped, the windscreen didn’t shatter, and nobody screamed in pain. Three or four direct hits maybe, but all to no good.
The van’s engine whined as it J-turned, and he found himself aiming at its blank metal rear. He continued to aim, five shots remaining, but he didn’t fire because the bitch was in the back. What he wanted most in the world was to kill that bitch with his bare hands, and the very last thing he wanted was for her to escape. But at least the latter would allow him another chance at the former, and that wouldn’t happen if a fluke bullet sprayed her across the interior of the van.
Beyond the gun’s sights, he watched the van exit and vanish.
Sixty-Seven
Karl
The van had a single bench seat against each side wall, and Liz and Karl took one each. All windows were curtained, and Karl wondered where the hell he’d been brought. The rough ride made him think: somewhere remote.
‘They might go after my wife. I need to get to her,’ he called out.
After a series of sharp manoeuvres over rough land, the drive became smooth and the speed dropped. He heard other vehicles. So, not the desolation of the country, then. He moved to the back window as the van took a turn and parted the curtains with his face as his hands were still cuffed. Between two sand-coloured buildings he glimpsed moored yachts and water which vanished as the turn was completed.
‘Where the hell are we? Where are we going?’ He knew his head was still fuzzy from the wild events of the last hour, but surely they couldn’t be at the coast.
‘Limehouse,’ the driver said. He was a heavyset guy with ginger hair and a ginger beard, heavily muscled shoulders under his T-shirt.
Karl relaxed a little. Limehouse was close to St Dunstan’s, so he hadn’t blacked out for long. He figured Katie might still be near the crash location.
‘Are we going back to the crash?’ he asked.
‘Don’t be silly, pal,’ the driver said. Karl figured this was Danny.
‘We’ve got to go back. My wife might still be there, so—’
‘She ran away, mate. She’s safe. The people who did this got the hell out of there when they lost her. If she’s still around there, she’s with the police, my friend. They’re all over that place by now.’
‘She’s not safe with the police! That guy was a cop. He was that detective, McDevitt. They can get to her. I need to find out where she is.’
‘Calm down, my friend. Yeah, we saw him. He might be a high-ranking cop, but he’s shown his face, so he’s on the run now and can’t get anywhere near her.’
‘No, he said there’s others—’
‘I doubt that, pal. I know enough crooked cops. They steal money from criminals and they hide evidence and stuff, but what they don’t do is kill witnesses in custody. So, this guy is probably a cop taking the law into his own hands because Ron beat the system. So, she’s fine. We can find your missus later. For now your priority is to get away from this area because they’ll throw a net across it. And mine is to get that girl there away from here.’
Liz. He’d forgotten about her for the moment. She sat facing him, but looking down at the floor, hands on her lap, palms up.
‘Are you okay?’ he asked. And then he realised she wasn’t looking at the floor. Her hand. The paw print tattoo. It was now an indelible reminder that her journey had been cut short.
Danny took a quick turn, pulled in somewhere and stopped.
‘Lizzy? You hurt?’
Karl knew then that this guy would do anything for her. Including making sure she was safe before he even thought about finding Katie.
She didn’t look up when she said: ‘This isn’t because Ron won his trial. It isn’t a police officer taking the law into his own hands.’ She wiped her cheek, removing a tear. ‘This was an inside job. My husband was betrayed by people he trusted. People who were our friends.’
Sixty-Eight
Mick
Mick moved away from the others to make a call. He spoke for thirty seconds, and then slotted his device away and returned, sitting on the chair Seabury had been handcuffed to.
‘What a fucking day so far,’ he said, rubbing his face. ‘And it’s barely lunchtime.’
‘So now what?’ Dave said. ‘This is over, right? That’s it.’
‘Easy for you to say,’ Brad moaned. ‘I can’t just go home.’
‘Well, I’m sorry about that, Brad. But what am I supposed to do, go on the run as well? I’ve got a wife—’
‘And I’ve got a bloody partner, too. But I—’
‘No, it’s not over,’ Mick cut in. ‘They’re not safe yet. Didn’t you recognise that van?’
‘Danny Mall,’ Brad said.
‘Your old friend.’
‘He isn’t my friend.’
‘Not now, for sure. The bitch had the chance to go to the police, yet she called one of her husband’s people. What’s that say to you?’
Neither Dave nor Brad had an answer.
‘She won’t go to the cops yet,’ Mick said. ‘So, we have time. I think I know the plan. Seabury gave it away. He said she was planning to hand herself in in her own way. Gold. Her husband’s solicitor. That’s where they’re going. It was her plan all along.’
‘You mentioned him earlier. But you’d never get there in time.’
For some reason, Mick latched onto Dave’s use of the term you’d. Not we’d. ‘I did mention it earlier, and I got a guy I know to watch his office. He went to court and looks like being there all day. I don’t think the bitch has contacted him yet. If they’re going there, I think her plan is to just turn up on his doorstep. Where we’ll be waiting.’
Brad said: ‘His office is in the middle of Notting Hill Gate. I can’t see them risking exposure on the way there. Besides, he might not go back to the office.’
‘Grafton wouldn’t be seen dead in a busy high street solicitor’s office, sitting next to a car thief in a baseball cap. I think they’ll go to his house after hours.’
‘I want no part,’ Dave said. ‘We should cut and run. This revenge thing of yours is getting out of hand, Mick.’
‘You’re not home and dry, Dave, because there’s a man out there who can burn you, too.’
They glared at each other. The realisation sinking in, Dave said: ‘You?’
‘Me. We’re in this till the end. All of us. Look, I don’t want to threaten you two. We’re friends. But this is a whole new big ass ballgame now. I’m very far from being in a celebratory mood, and we all celebrate together, or we all go down together. But if we do this, and it works, I’ll make sure you’re both spotless. I need an answer.’
* * *
A few minutes later, they were driving out of the warehouse grounds. Dave had refused to ride in the Vito, claiming a jaunt on his bike would clear his head, so he was following behind on the Suzuki.
Three minutes after that, both vehicles hit a junction. Green light. The Vito went straight across, heading west, as planned, but the bike stalled and got caught on red. Brad slowed the Vito and looked in his rear-view mirror. He saw the light change to green; and watched the tiny vehicles 500 feet back begin to move again. But Dave’s bike swung a fast left at the junction, not west.
Stalling the bike had been a trick. Dave was abandoning them. Cutting them loose. Running. And when Brad looked at Mick, the detective was staring at his own wing mirror. But Mick said nothing.
That was when Brad knew they were about to play a very different ballgame.
Sixty-Nine
Karl