Princess: A Private Novel

“You stupid bitch! What money are you on as a copper? Thirty grand a year? Morgan is making millions a year! Millions! And he’s making it by having others die for him. You think this sack of shit on the floor is the first one who’s died to make Jack Morgan richer?”

“She died,” Lewis spat, “because you killed her!”

“She died because she was a disposable asset!” Flex shot back. “Disposable to Jack Morgan, so that he can continue to live his life of beach houses and private jets!”

“You jealous bastard,” Lewis laughed. “Is that all this is? You’re going to kill me because you want Morgan’s life?”

Flex told his accomplice to deliver another kick to Lewis’s broken ribs, but it did not stop Lewis from finishing. “No wonder you’re wearing that mask. Morgan is a good-looking bloke. I bet you’ve got a face like a cheese toastie.”

She laughed at her own insult. Then, to her surprise, she heard Flex join in.

“You really don’t think I’ll kill you, do you, copper?”

“I don’t think you’ve got the balls. Probably vanished from all that juice you’ve been doing.” She snorted, taking in the man’s steroid-inflated size. “You’re a coward. And a small man in all the ways that count.”

“A coward?” Flex laughed. “Well, maybe I am. But you don’t have to be a brave man to do this.”

Flex shoved the barrel of his gun inside Lewis’s mouth.

She tried to speak, but the words were muffled by the barrel and came out as an angry gurgle.

“I want you to know,” Flex said from above, “that you’re gonna die to make Jack Morgan richer. Think about that as your last thought.”

Flex laughed, and then he pulled the trigger.





Chapter 55


THE BUILDINGS OF London were a blur beneath the helicopter as it belted across the city, green parks just a flash as Morgan and Knight raced to Kensington, and to Sharon Lewis.

Morgan had been silent for the first two minutes of the flight, but now he pulled his phone and dialed into Private London’s HQ.

“Put me through to Hooligan,” he commanded the watch manager.

“Hooligan left once Patel was taken into custody,” the watch manager explained. “I’ll put you through to Denise.”

“Who’s Denise?” Morgan asked Knight as the call went through.

“We recruited her last year straight from Cambridge. Hooligan hand-picked her. She’s quite brilliant, really.”

“Denise, this is Jack Morgan. Are you OK with breaking the law?”

“I am if it’s for a good cause,” the young woman answered without hesitation.

“I need you to hack into any and all CCTV systems within five hundred yards of Mayoor Patel’s home, and then feed them to me. Can you do that?”

“I can.”

Morgan hung up the call.

“Why the hell isn’t Hooligan there?” he asked Knight.

“Jack, he’s been working non-stop. As far as he was concerned, our cases both wrapped up once we took Patel into custody. He couldn’t have foreseen…this.”

“Private isn’t a part-time gig.” Morgan spoke through clenched teeth. “If this new girl is as good as you say she is, then Hooligan’s gone.”

“Gone?” Knight stammered, flabbergasted. “He’s a lynchpin in Private London, Jack. I know things are not great right now but—”

“Not great?” Morgan cut him off, seething. “Jane is dead, and my people are not where they should be.”

“He didn’t know,” Knight pressed.

“And whose fault is that?” Morgan shot back, his eyes burning into Knight. “You are the head of Private London, Peter, and Flex is on your turf. If he was planning this, you should have known about it.”

Knight didn’t know what to say.

“Cook is dead because Private London didn’t see this coming,” Morgan warned. “Hooligan isn’t the only one that’s replaceable.”





Chapter 56


INSIDE THE HELICOPTER was tense, and silent. Beside Knight, Morgan sat like a coiled spring. Then, without warning, the American’s body sagged into his seat.

“I’m sorry, Peter,” Morgan sighed.

“You don’t have anything to be sorry about.”

“I’m the head of Private, and all mistakes belong to me. If anyone killed Jane, then it was me.”

Knight turned in the helicopter’s tight confines so that he could look directly into Morgan’s face. “Flex killed Jane. Don’t forget that, Jack. Nobody else. Flex.”

After a moment Morgan grudgingly nodded. “I should have seen this coming, though, Peter. We beat him down when we were searching for Abbie Winchester. We kicked his ass. Reputation is everything in the security business, and Flex must have lost his when he took that beating.”

“Not everyone kills over a reputation.”

“But Flex would,” Morgan countered. “I should have known that. I should have seen it. I came into this situation with blinkers on, and led us into one trap after another. Jane’s dead because of me.”

“Bollocks, Jack!” Knight grabbed his friend’s shoulder. “She’s dead because of that bastard!”

“She’s dead because of me. And Lewis too. Flex won’t take prisoners.”





Chapter 57


FLEX PULLED HIS gun from Sharon Lewis’s mouth and looked down at the policewoman.

He smiled.

“What are you looking at?” Lewis growled, fighting to control her shaking body.

“I’m impressed,” Flex grunted. “I’ve seen SAS soldiers piss themselves when they’ve gone through that.”

“That’s because you’re all a bunch of pussies!” Lewis braced herself against the expected reprisal.

None came.

“I need you alive,” Flex explained. “I need you to deliver a message to Jack Morgan.”

“What is it?” she asked cautiously.

“This.”

And then the punch did come.





Chapter 58


“I’M PUTTING HER down,” the pilot announced over the helicopter’s internal comms, pointing to a patch of green amidst the city below them—it was Holland Park, the nearest clearing to Patel’s Kensington home.

“Anything from the CCTV taps?” Knight asked Morgan as they dropped toward the ground, their stomachs lifting.

“Nothing useful.”

“So what’s our plan?”

Morgan didn’t answer. Instead, as the helicopter’s skids touched down onto the grass, Morgan threw back the door and ran.

Knight tried to stay on his heels, but the American was faster, the desire for revenge driving him on to a pace that Knight simply couldn’t match. As their shoes beat the tarmac of Kensington’s pavements, Knight began to fall behind. Only Morgan’s occasional slowing to check his phone’s map allowed Private London’s leader to keep him in sight. Knight had no need for his own map—he recognized the area by sight. He knew they were drawing closer, and was relieved to see Morgan pull up short of Patel’s street.

“We can’t just sprint in there, Jack,” Knight panted as he caught up. “They’ll kill Lewis, and then us.”

“We’re not going in anywhere.” Morgan looked down the street.

Knight followed the direction of Morgan’s gaze, and he saw the reason why.

Patel’s home was surrounded by police.





Chapter 59


“I TOLD YOU not to call the police!” Morgan shouted at Knight, seeing their chance to slip inside and rescue Lewis disappear.

“I didn’t,” Knight protested. “Honestly, Jack, this wasn’t me. But look, the way that they’re set up. This isn’t a siege.”

Morgan looked to the police cordon. The uniformed officers were facing outward, not in.

“None of them are in cover,” Morgan realized. “They’re not afraid of getting shot.”

“Flex is gone,” Knight said, the words barely out of his mouth before Morgan was again sprinting, this time toward the police.

“Who’s in charge?” he called to the nearest uniform, the officer raising an eyebrow at Morgan’s American accent.

“Please stay away from the cordon, sir,” the young PC said in reply.

“I need to know who’s in charge!” Morgan asserted. “My people were inside that house! I need to get in there!”

“Sir, please stay calm.”

“I am calm! And I need to get inside!”

The sound of raised voices drew the attention of a police sergeant. As a veteran officer, she had seen enough grief to recognize it in Morgan.