BLOOD DRAGON

by Freddie P Peters

  A soft rattle of the door made her stop. She consulted the alarm clock on the bedside table … less than 15 minutes … this seemed very quick, but then again it was the Mandarin Oriental, the most luxurious hotel in Hong Kong. She moved swiftly towards the door and was about to speak when she froze. The soft noise she had heard was not that of a trolley being arranged, but that of the door handle being moved gently up and down.

  She ran to the door, and slid the chain bolt into its track. Nancy looked through the security peephole and saw a man was standing at the door … middle aged, bald, with dry leathery skin … Chinese.

  Nancy looked around for a weapon. There were a few glass bottles in the minibar fridge, but she doubted there would be enough to stop a determined assailant. She ran back into the main room, grabbed her mobile. Only five per cent of her battery left, she cursed. Why had she not started charging it earlier?

  She ran back to the door. The handle moved again. She called reception.

  “This is room 578 … someone is at my door, trying to break in.”

  The receptionist did not ask her to repeat herself. The usual pleasant hello was replaced by a focused security is on its way.

  Nancy dropped her mobile into her pocket, was about to dash back to the bedroom and grab the letter opener … an accessory she thought no hotel room would ever bother with. The door opened as she was running back to it, only restrained by the chain she had secured a few moments earlier.

  A small, yet muscly hand was moving up the wooden panel, feeling for the bolt at the end of the chain. Nancy braced herself and, with as much strength as she could muster, stabbed the fingers that were exploring the door.

  The man yelped and withdrew his hand immediately.

  She tried to slam the door shut again with her shoulder, but a metal object had been moved between the door and its frame.

  The man pushed as hard as he could, trying to yank the door open.

  The sound of a body slamming against the wood made Nancy brace herself even harder.

  The assailant had abandoned his subtle approach. He was now simply throwing his body against the door in an attempt to break the security chain.

  Nancy braced herself against the door once more. Her body shook at his second attempt. The chain groaned as the screws fastening the sliding track almost gave way. Another thrust against the door and the chain would come loose.

  * * *

  Since his motorbike ride, Andy had been firing on all cylinders. He had delegated the review of the hospital CCTV footage to a new promising recruit. Mandy had impressed him with her IT expertise, and tracing an individual was exactly what she needed to hone her skills. The hospital had been a little reluctant, but the supervisor Mandy had spoken to had been much more amenable when she mentioned the Ollie Wilson case. It was attempted murder and the person that had committed this terrible act might still be in the hospital, possibly disguised as a nurse.

  Andy gave Mandy an approving nod … Well put.

  He sat up and poked his head over his computer screen. “How are you getting on?”

  “I’ve traced the nurse we’ve been talking about. She entered the lift on the floor above the one on which Ollie Wilson’s room is situated. I’m following her out of the hospital and into the underground. So far so good.”

  “And after that you’ll check where she came from?”

  Mandy frowned. “Really? I would never have thought of it.”

  “Right … yeah … course, you got it.”

  Andy delved back into his own work. Tracking down the working group that had suggested the liberalisation of opium production in Afghanistan. Andy had broadened his search to the US and a name had cropped up that Pole would be very interested in. Jared Turner Senior had chaired a committee there until it had been dismantled in 2012.

  The report they had requested had been critical. The conclusion was that if the opium production in Afghanistan was sold to legal drug producers, it would inevitably increase the cultivation of opium poppies and push the price up. The Afghan government did not have the means to police the entire territory and control the crops. The Taliban warlords were in power, and this was not likely to change any time soon.

  Andy was awaiting information from Interpol on Turner Senior. His colleagues there had assured him he would receive a swift reply. He would call back in a couple of hours if nothing came before then.

  “Bugger.” Mandy’s voice came out loud and clear.

  “You’ve lost her?” He said without rising from his desk.

  “Yeah … there must be a blind spot or something at the station. I can’t find her anywhere.”

  “And would the station you’re talking about be Balham by any chance?”

  Mandy sprang up from her chair. “Wow … How on earth did you know that?”

  “That’s not the only blind spot in London … but it’s the one used by the other people we tried to track down and lost on the Wilson case.”

  “Well then.” Mandy moved around to come and sit on Andy’s desk. “She’s got to be part of the gang.”

  He lifted his head, closing one eye. “Send the file to me.” He had an idea.

  Pole was returning from yet another meeting with a frustrated Superintendent Marsh.

  The Ollie Wilson search had yielded very little.

  The informal joint inquiry with the counter-terrorist squad was going nowhere.

  Ms Wu had a very good excuse for going to Hong Kong … and booking two tickets in her own name was odd, but nothing reprehensible.

  Ferguson tried to argue that she might have changed the name on the other ticket at the last minute, but he was clutching at straws. Still, the squad was on Pole’s back and he could feel the heat.

  Pole needed progress. The squad would still be on his back, but not Marsh. Marsh would be convinced the Wilson case was a high-profile case. He too was being grilled by the head of the Counter Terrorist Squad and it was not pleasant. He would use the Wilson case to fend them off as well.

  Pole walked into the open plan office. He could already tell Andy was onto something important. He was half standing … still working, but surveying the entrance to the room. When he saw Pole he waved, excited.

  “What is it that you found that is so exciting then?”

  “You remember I told you the jogger was a woman?”

  It took Pole a few seconds to recall the encounter between Cora and the jogger along the Regents Canal towpath. He nodded.

  “And you remember I also thought the biker who …” Andy was trying to put it diplomatically.

  “… ran over Nancy?” Pole suggested.

  “Exactly … was also a woman?”

  “Now Mandy’s found the nurse Cora had noticed coming out of the hospital lift.”

  “And it was the same person?” Pole smiled.

  Andy snapped his fingers. “And – wait for this – … she alighted at Balham tube station!”

  “Part of the Russian crowd then?”

  “Possibly … well … very probable. I don’t think it can be a coincidence.”

  “Neither do I. What else?”

  “Mandy tracked her back inside UCH. She walked around a few floors doing nothing much, checking here and there. But she never went into any of the staff rooms. She changed out of her uniform in one of the public toilets.”

  “And you’ve tracked that person back out?”

  “We have … that’s how we came up with Balham.”

  “You’re the best.” Pole gave his DS a friendly tap over the shoulder. “Where is Mandy?”

  “Not sure … but I’ll be sure to tell her you think she’s done really well when she comes back.”

  “Now that we know Balham is her contact point, let’s speak to the local guys … they may know how to track her down.”

  “On it, Gov.”
>
  “Is there someone you know in that neck of the woods?”

  “Not sure …”

  “Let’s try to keep this discreet … If this gang is as well connected as we suspect, they have eyes and ears everywhere.”

  * * *

  “I’ll tell you all that I know, and all that Ollie told me.” Jack was still holding his hands up at the level of his shoulders.

  In the low light of the room, he could make out Randy’s face, covered in sweat. His grip on the knife was so tight his knuckles had turned white. He had no idea how to fight with such a weapon, but Jack did not fancy tackling him … unless he tried to have a go at him.

  “You could still be working for them.” Randy’s voice was hoarse.

  “Why don’t I tell you anyway, and then you can decide.”

  Jack lowered his hands in a slow deliberate gesture. “Do you mind if I move to the other end of the room and sit down?” Jack followed his words by moving backwards in slow motion. Randy cast an eye towards the door. No one else was coming. He seemed to relax a little, still holding the knife up as he moved to the opposite wall and leaned against it.

  Jack told him as much as he could. The way Ollie had contacted him through the embassy. How he had promised to send information to Jack but never managed to. The call from London telling him Ollie had disappeared … The suspicions about illegal drugs.

  Jack told Randy about his visit to Professor Park at Harvard Medical School.

  “Ollie will never do drugs again. He had a difficult patch at Uni, that’s all.”

  “But evidence is not stacking up in his favour in the UK.”

  “That’s a set up.”

  “Who by?”

  “I don’t know.” Randy slid slowly down the wall. “Possibly the same people who tried to silence him in the first place.”

  “Viro-Tech Therapeutics?”

  “This may sound odd, but I still can’t believe Jared would do that.” Randy shook his head. “Ollie’s girlfriend always told him he was too naive. I guess I was too.”

  A faint noise silenced both men instantly. It was coming from the floor below them. Jack stood up and moved towards Randy, indicating he should stay down. They both remained quiet. The noise stopped for a moment and started again.

  This time Randy stood up and Jack did not stop him. “Take the passport and money you’ve hidden in the bathroom, but leave the rest here.”

  Randy froze.

  “We need to leave now …”

  Randy shook himself. He moved to the bathroom, and retrieved his possessions, carefully replacing the loose tiles.

  The sound below kept coming and going … someone was investigating the room underneath them.

  Jack moved to the door, opened it a small crack and listened again. Their floor was still silent, though perhaps not for long. Jack nodded towards the exit, treading noiselessly. Randy followed without question.

  Jack opened the fire exit door and listened. There was only silence and darkness. The stairwell was visible only in the light from the open door. Once the door was shut, they would be in total darkness.

  “This is what we are going to do.” Jack whispered over his shoulder. “I’m not going to use my torch, but we are going to go up in the dark, using the banister as a guide.”

  “Why are we going up?” Randy asked.

  “I blocked the door open on the seventh floor.”

  Randy shut the door reluctantly behind them.

  They have just started to climb the stairs when they see a beam of light below them and that it is moving up fast. They have almost reached the fourth floor. The door to the second floor below opens and the light disappears.

  Only three floors to go. Jack accelerates the pace. Randy follows. He trips and contains a yelp. Voices can now be heard from below. The door has opened again, and steps are pounding up towards them.

  “Come on.” Jack let Randy go first. He lights the torch so that they can see better and start running towards their escape route. There are now shouts and the steps below them speed up.

  The beam of light that guides them is unsteady, yet enables them to climb two steps at a time.

  The others are gaining ground and their own light is shining up the staircase. It is almost upon them.

  The seventh floor door is now visible. Randy opens the door. Jack shoves Randy by the shoulder and pushed him through the doorway. He yanks the piece of plastic that kept the door open. As it slams shut, someone crashes against it.

  It won’t be long though before they manage to force it open. Randy and Jack run for the lift, pushing past a group of men who have just come out of it.

  “Where to now?” Randy is breathless, his face ashen with fear.

  “Back to Central.”

  They reach the ground floor. Jack doesn’t pretend to be calm. He runs through the lobby, followed by Randy. The receptionists and guests have stopped to watch the two men dash out. Jack doesn’t care.

  Outside, he pushes Randy into the first cab he sees.

  “Mandarin Oriental.” He says as soon as he has shut the cab’s door.

  “The night ferry is quicker.” The driver is reluctant to leave Kowloon.

  Jack takes a $100 note out of his rucksack.

  “Double this if you reach Central in thirty minutes.”

  The driver floors the accelerator. There is another $100 to be had.

  * * *

  Cora’s plan was on his desk. Pole was impressed. He had seen some of her performances in which the young woman defied gravity and hung in the air in a choreography both aesthetic and dangerous.

  She’d come up with a way to harness ropes from the beam that stretched across the entire structure of her flat. It was clever and it should work. Pole had hoped she would take a little more time to consider her plan but she was keen and she wanted answers.

  Pole went through the Wilson file again. He had kept the name of the Fire Brigade’s Senior Officer who led the team on the day the fire broke out at Cora’s flat. Perhaps she could still be of help.

  “Are you serious?” Senior Officer Rachel Lord’s voice dropped a little.

  “Completely serious … or rather, she is. She’s an experienced performance artist.”

  “She does that sort of stuff? For a living?” Senior Officer Lord sounded almost impressed.

  “That’s right … but your people do some pretty daring things too.”

  “Only when we have to, though …”

  “Well, she’s a very successful artist … and she produces some rather wonderful watercolours too.”

  “I’d rather she stuck to the … watercolours.”

  “If we don’t help her, she’s going to do it on her own anyway.”

  “I can’t really give you a professional opinion, Inspector Pole. I would be …”

  “I’m not expecting you to. I just want you to take a look and tell me whether there’s anything that doesn’t make sense.” Pole hesitated. “Someone like you who knows the ropes, if I can put it that way.”

  “I could perhaps …” Senior Officer Lord was thinking. “I could perhaps drive by and have a talk with her. I’m finishing my shift in an hour.”

  Pole thanked Senior Officer Lord and told Cora that this was his condition. Senior Officer Lord would go through the plan with her. If she thought it was safe, Cora had the go ahead.

  Andy popped his head through the door just as Pole finished his call.

  “An extract from a report by the Commission in charge of co-ordinating the world medical production, the International Narcotics Control Board. The local advocate fighting to liberate the production in Afghanistan is … Jared Turner Senior.” Andy had opened the document so that Pole could read the relevant passage. He traced the name with his finger and stabbed at it. “Turner Senior is really keen on this. An
d he had visited Afghanistan a lot before and since the report’s publication.”

  Pole read the report extract. “This gives us an indication, but not confirmation. There’s still a large gap at this end connecting the Turners with a Russian gang.”

  “Agreed … but Mandy and I are looking into Turner Senior more closely.”

  Pole was playing with an old rubber band he had found on the floor of his office.

  “What we need … is someone who will talk.”

  Andy leaned back in the chair he had just sat down on.

  “The only person we have at the moment is that woman/biker/nurse from Balham. Knowing the reputation these gangs have for dealing with snitches, I’m not sure anyone will want to talk to us.”

  “Cora has been discreet. She hasn’t spoken to anyone else about the nurse. Not even her friends.”

  “That’s what Branning said.”

  Pole scratched his goatee. “We are going to tell people that Ollie has woken up and ask Cora to go along with the story … that he is recovering.”

  Andy nodded in approval. “A good old-fashioned trap.”

  “Why not?” Pole grinned briefly. “You’ll be there, I’ll be there, and Mandy can join us disguised as a nurse.”

  “I can set up an alert to inform us when this woman enters Balham tube … I think.” Andy tapped his fingers a few times on his upper lip. “Yes, I think I have got enough on her to set up a programme and monitor her.”

  “That’s worth trying in any case. We’ll have a team at the hospital no matter what, to give us a decent amount of warning.”

  Andy was already standing up. Pole shot a hand forward to hold him back. “Can someone else do the monitoring for you?”

  “You mean … once I’ve set up the programme? Yes, sure.”

  “Good, I’d like you on site at the hospital. I’m a known face there but you’re not.”

  “Be great to be part of that.” Andy ran a hand over his left cheek. “Although I recall the last time I was posted to a hospital, I ended up needing treatment there myself.”

  “I certainly won’t forget that.” Pole’s mind flashed back to the case.

  “That’s OK, Guv … I’ve toughened up considerably since then. Up to date on my self-defence these days.” Andy took up a mock defensive position and tried to look fierce.