Finn checked his watch. “For the next hour we do nothing. If any of the neighbors have called the police, we’ll know by then, and we’ll tell them the truth, that he broke in, tried to kill Hailey, I intercepted him and killed him in self-defense.”
Ethan shook his head. “No, I killed him. It’d be odd explaining why you were staying in our apartment.”
Finn accepted the point but said, “It shouldn’t come to that. It’s good that nobody screamed. A single gunshot’s a funny thing—was it a gunshot, wasn’t it? It’s hard to tell.”
“And if the police don’t come?”
“I’ll get rid of the body and we never talk about this again.”
Debbie said, “You just killed a man. There’s a dead man lying right here in front of us.” She stared at Taylor now, in compulsion and horror.
Ethan said, “Debbie, don’t look at it. Finn did what he had to do to save Hailey.” He looked at Finn, a tacit acknowledgment that his words had only been half true, that it had been a preemptive strike as much as an immediate life or death intervention. “I only wish I could’ve killed him myself.”
“Just be glad he’s dead.”
Finn went over to the body and patted it down. There were no car keys, which seemed strange. Then he found a door key and suddenly realized what he’d been missing the whole time as he’d looked out onto the street. Taylor hadn’t been out on the street, he hadn’t been booked into a hotel—he’d been in the empty BGS apartment.
“I’ll be back in a minute.”
He crossed the corridor and opened the door into Gibson’s old apartment. The light was on in the kitchen, and it was soon clear that Taylor had pretty much limited himself to that room. His car keys were on the table, as was a plastic bag with various items of food and drink bought from a convenience store. Whatever he’d eaten or drunk, he’d put the remainders and the wrapping back into the bag. The rest of the apartment was empty.
Finn took the bag and the keys back to the Portmans’ apartment, and found the tableau of the family exactly as he’d left it. They looked at him expectantly.
“You all realize this is something you can never speak of again. In a day or two this will make the news, and you have to be as shocked and appalled as everyone else.” He got three assenting nods. “Okay. I’ll use his keys to locate his car. There’s a quiet spot I know on the lakeshore. I’ll drive him there, leave the drugs in the car, drop his body at the water’s edge. He’ll have taken heroin and then shot himself. There’ll be no good reason for looking too hard for other explanations. Ethan, you’ll follow me five minutes later in your car, pick me up and bring me back.”
Ethan nodded.
“And as soon as I can in the morning, I’ll be flying to London.”
That unsettled Hailey, and she stood and said, “How long will you be away?”
“A couple of days, maybe. Look, I’ll be straight with you, this isn’t done yet, and you still need to be vigilant. I don’t think they’ll come for you again, but I need to speak to some people and put BGS out of business—it’s the only way I’ll be convinced you’re safe.”
“And you?”
He smiled. “If they’d wanted me dead it would’ve been a lot easier. But you’re right, I need to find out what they want from me, then maybe we can all get on with living our lives.”
He looked down at Taylor, his face tanned and healthy, peacefully reposed except for the syringe in his thigh, the trickle of blood from his mouth. He wasn’t sure how any of the Portmans could get on with their lives after this, how any of them could go back to where they’d been two weeks ago.
For his part, turning the clock back by two weeks wouldn’t be enough. He needed to rebuild from much farther back in his own history, and he wouldn’t be able to do that as long as this remained unfinished.
Even if she wanted to return, how could he ever think of having Adrienne back? Because there would be other Gibsons, other Taylors, and he could keep killing them but unless he went to the source, to Karasek and Perry, he’d never be certain of being free from that past. The choice had finally been made for him and, one way or another, he was determined this would be ended.
History
He got them a good cabin on the overnight ferry to Stockholm, and left her only to go to the onboard shop to buy something to eat. He didn’t want to risk taking her to the restaurant. It was unlikely any of Karasek’s people would have joined enough dots to follow them this far, but he also knew how many operations fell through as a result of last-minute complacency.
The boat rolled a little, kneading the waves, but she was used to it now, and sat cross-legged on the bed, eating, happy. When she’d finished she said, “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
“Harry said you will leave your job.” He nodded. “What will you do?”
He shrugged. “I like history. I might write a history book.”
She smiled broadly and said, “I like history, too.”
“Well, who knows, maybe it’ll be translated into Russian.”
“No, I learn English.” He nodded again, not doubting it, still amazed by how she’d come on in this last week.