by Dave Lacey
Smithy was talking to the girl on reception, calmly at the moment, making his case as amicably as he could, which was clearly having little impact. Then his gestures became more animated and forceful; he was karate chopping the side of his left hand on the desk to punctuate his demand. He knew his partner could be as belligerent as the next man when he wanted to be, and felt sorry for the girl on the desk, even though it was all an act. There was a security guard near the turnstiles who had begun to take notice of the conversation, and it was obvious that he was considering walking across to intervene.
Do it, Jack thought. Walk across and let me through. The security guard was teetering on the brink now, his weight shifting onto the balls of his feet, an invisible leash restraining him from fully committing. As he vacillated, mentally arguing with himself as to what to do for the best, Smithy exploded into full flow, his timing impeccable. His voice rose to a crushing volume, and he started to make petulant demands of the receptionist.
“I absolutely must see the Home Secretary,” Smithy shouted. “It’s imperative that I see him today. This is a police matter and I will not be fobbed off!” The poor girl didn’t know what to do for the best. During this latest tirade, the security guard had used his radio to call for assistance, which came in the form of two further guards equally as solidly built as the first. Jack guessed he had called because Smithy looked exactly like what he was, a real handful. His stocky build did not lie; he was strong and very able to defend himself. Jack congratulated the guard on his foresight, and figured the three of them might have a chance now. Smithy must have caught sight of them from the corner of his eye, as Jack saw his posture change and he tensed for the contact.
“Please, sir, calm down and step away from the desk.” The first guard spoke to Smithy quietly, with one hand on what Jack guessed was a canister of mace. Smithy turned toward them, so that now he was facing the turnstiles, forcing the guards to focus all of their attention on him rather than the security barrier behind them. He risked the most fleeting of glances Jack’s way, then nodded sharply once.
“Oh, I see,” Smithy said politely, and smiled. “Would you like to wait for the rest of your friends, or would you like to start now?” Jack didn’t wait to find out the answer. He stood silently and walked toward the turnstiles, careful not to make eye contact with anyone. It would have been very difficult to do so anyway, as everybody was watching the altercation taking place at the desk.
With one smooth, economical motion, Detective Sumner braced his hands either side of the turnstile and swung his legs up and over the contraption. A sly voice at the back of his mind muttered ‘turn round’, but, feeling a shout was imminent, he ignored it and walked briskly toward the staircase. When he reached the corner, he risked a look back to the desk, where Smithy had allowed himself to be subdued. He was in.
***
Clarence was tucked away in the main security office, watching events unfold on the various cameras positioned about the building. He had watched Jack take his seat and wondered why he hadn’t tried to gain access to the Home Secretary. He then watched Smithy enter the building, at which point he had connected the dots. He had a pretty good idea what was going to happen, but decided to let it unfold a little before intervening. It was more fun, and it also meant that the two detectives would land themselves in even more shit.
And that might result in him being allowed to off them both in any way he saw fit. The camera operative was looking at him with an odd expression. As he stood with his arms folded, a huge almost lecherous grin had spread across his face at the thought of getting rid of the two men in the lobby. Within five minutes, the situation downstairs had escalated to the point where Clarence thought it wise to call Lemac and apprise him of the situation.
“Oui?” came the terse greeting.
“They’re here, at the Home Office. Their plan is to create a diversion and slip through without being noticed.”
“Have they started?” Lemac asked.
“Started? They’re almost through.” Clarence almost laughed.
“Then stop them, you idiot, they must not...”
“They’re not going to speak with Thomas,” Clarence cut across him. “I can stop Sumner any time I like and we have the short one held in the security room downstairs. What would you like me to do with them?” Clarence asked innocently. Lemac did not answer immediately.
“Hold them. Then take them to the warehouse. I will join you later this afternoon. Do not harm them. I need to have a very long conversation with one of them. The other we may dispose of depending on the outcome of that conversation.” Clarence could tell that in many ways this was a last throw of the dice for Lemac and his cover up.
“Very well. Should we rough them up a little?” Clarence asked hopefully.
“No, sedate them both and keep them bound in separate rooms in the warehouse.”
“Okay, I’ll take Sumner now then.” Clarence hung up and walked to the door of the security suite. He took the stairs to the floor that housed the Home Secretary’s office, and looked both ways before being sure that Sumner had not yet reached Richard Thomas’s office. Just then, half into the corridor, he heard footsteps ringing up the stairwell behind him. He stepped fully into the corridor and slid into a recessed door housing to one side of the emergency exit leading to the stairs. As Jack came through it, Clarence stepped out behind him and raised a silenced Beretta to the back of his head.
“Please,” he hissed. “Please just give me a reason to pull the trigger. You have no idea how happy it would make me to blow your brains out all over this corridor.” He had to fight the urge to pull the trigger, but he knew it would be his last act if he did so.
“Okay. I'm not going to do anything. Just tell me what you want me to do.”
“I want you to walk into that office on the right, slowly. Then, I want you to walk into the middle of the room and kneel down there.” Jack did as he was ordered, opening the door slowly then leading the way into the room. He was about to kneel facing the window, when the voice behind him came again.
“No, no, kneel facing me, shithead.” Sumner did as he was ordered, and looked Clarence in the eye.
“Look, I'm a police officer. This has all been a mistake...”
“I know who you are, you fucking moron, do you think we’re that stupid? That you could just slip through security downstairs and wheedle your way in to see Thomas? Please, I’ve been watching you for days. But you’ve really fucked up now.” Clarence smiled at him.
“Who are you?” Sumner asked, his eyes screwing up in confusion. Clarence laughed loud and harsh.
“Oh come on, you must have some idea. After all, you’ve been looking for me for a few weeks now, and I’ve always been just a few steps ahead haven’t I?” Clarence teased, drumming the fingers of his free hand on his lips as he frowned at the ceiling. Confusion cleared slowly from Jack’s face, and became realisation. As it did so, his anger surfaced too and he made as if to get to his feet.
“Don’t be fucking stupid. I would have no problem in doing you right now, trust me.” Clarence walked slowly around Sumner, keeping the gun extended in front of him, until he was behind him. Jack couldn’t see what he was doing, but finally spoke.
“What the fuck’s going on here? Who are you, and who are you working for?” He had decided to turn his head and look, when he felt a prick in his neck. “What the hell?”
“Take it easy. I’m just giving you something to make you sleep. My employer wants to talk to you. You know who I am. As I said, I’ve been leading you a merry dance of late.” Clarence had walked back round to face Jack again, and once more he was smiling. “Actually, you and your boyfriend haven’t done too badly, objectively speaking. Your instincts have been pretty good.” Jack was losing focus a little now, feeling more bilious by the second. “Feeling okay? Never mind. You were very close to me on a couple of occasions, first with the little Warwick boy, then his daddy. You should’ve seen his face when he saw me in his
house. Ha, good times.” Clarence looked at his captive. He was wasting his time preening in front of Sumner now, the little shit was losing consciousness. As if to underline this point, Sumner fell forward softly onto the heavy carpet into oblivion.
Chapter 50
London, England.
“Wake up! Wake up, boy!” Jack gradually came to. He felt groggy as hell after whatever it was they had given him started to wear off. Trying, but not having to try too hard, to maintain his confused outlook, Jack attempted to take in his surroundings. It looked like he was in some sort of bunker, or warehouse basement. And from the piteous state of the room he was in, it appeared to be disused.
His mouth was so dry, he had to prise his tongue from the roof of it, and the pain in his head came in thunderous waves, forcing him to close his eyes. Undercutting his discomfort was the knowledge that if they had wanted to kill him they would have done so already. His fear came from the fact that he had no idea where Smithy was, providing he was still safe. As he was trying to come to terms with this thought, he took an open handed slap from his tormentor.
“I said, wake up! I know you’re in there, you little prick.” The killer from the Home Office was still with him it seemed. Unpleasant as he may have appeared in the room earlier, it paled beside the ugly visage he saw before him now. The man was strange to say the least; he seemed perfectly calm most of the time, but it was interspersed with bouts of feral aggression. Jack was convinced he was psychotic.
“I'm awake, arsehole.” Jack spat the words at him. “Whatever it was you gave me, well, I feel like shit. So please forgive me if I'm not appreciative of your less than gentle approach.” The man moved in as if to strike him, but suddenly restrained himself, as though he had heard a rebuke that Jack had not.
“Just as soon as my employer is done with you, I’m going to have my fun too. And if you think the others died badly, well, let’s just wait and see shall we.” Now he smiled smugly at his charge.
“Who is your employer? No, wait, I think I can guess. Lemac?” Jack raised both eyebrows questioningly.
“Clever boy. No need to worry, though, he’ll be here shortly so there’s no element of suspense.” He had taken a seat three or four yards from Jack’s chair; with his hands in his pockets, he leaned back and tilted his head to one side. “Why didn’t you just leave it be? Why didn’t you just accept that it was what it was and get back to doing your job? You’ve created this whole scenario where everybody is worked up, and finally we had to meet. ‘Cause I gotta tell ya, I’d rather have just followed you two into a dark corner somewhere one night and done it nice and quiet.” He paused to smile. “You see, that way it would have been clean. That way, I wouldn’t have started to dream up all kinds of nasty ways to make you cry for mummy. And you will cry for her, in the end. Her or God. They all do.” His smile was twisted to such an extent that it bore only a passing resemblance to a human expression of humour.
Jack decided to push the envelope. “Was it mummy that made you like this? Is that the issue here? Did mummy leave you? She didn’t touch you did she?” Jack asked him seriously, delicately.
The killer launched himself from his chair and was mere feet from Jack, intent upon serious damage, when his phone rang in his trouser pocket.
“You’ll keep,” he hissed at Jack from a distance of no more than six inches, spittle bubbling on his lips. “Yes?” he answered sharply. “Of course I haven’t. You are? Okay, fine.” He snapped his phone closed.
“A reprieve for you, Sumner. Lemac is here, he’ll be with us in a couple of minutes.”
“Look, if you ever want to talk about your mother, I’m here for you, right?” In response, Jack received a right hook to the side of the head. He blacked out again for a few minutes, by which time there were two more people in the room.
“Detective Sumner, how good to see you again. I trust you have been well cared for?” Philippe Lemac asked him with a smile. Jack looked at him with his left eye closed over, his sight blurred from the punch he had taken.
“Oh yes, your psychotic friend was quite the host. I imagine he’s a real hit at dinner parties.” The killer was prowling in the background, clearly desperate to exact his revenge on Jack. Lemac turned to look at his employee objectively. He turned back to look at Jack once more.
“Yes, he is...indelicate to say the least. I apologise for any harm he has inflicted, that was not my intention.” He seemed genuine enough in his apology.
“So what exactly was your intention? I mean by having me doped and brought here, presumably a very private location, and tied to a chair by this dick?” He leaned to one side to look at the prowling killer. “No offence, mate,” he offered, knowing it was risky and stupid to provoke the hired gun any further. The Frenchman looked at him appraisingly, not sure how to proceed.
“Jack...may I call you Jack? I tried to warn you a few days ago, did I not? I advised you that it would be foolish to continue to dig, but you chose not to listen to me. What am I to do? This is my final attempt, before things turn very ugly. At the moment, I am trying to decide whether or not to kill your partner. That is how serious the situation is.” Jack flinched at this. “Good, I see I have your full attention now. This…enterprise I suppose you could call it…is much greater than you could possibly imagine. The consequences are so far reaching that you simply could not understand our mission. And it is a mission.” He paused; Jack took the opportunity to speak.
“Try me? And while we’re at it, why haven’t you threatened to kill me? Why kill Smithy and leave me alive?” There were more questions, but Jack thought that was enough to be going on with.
“Interesting, interesting. Try you indeed. I think it may come to that. I have no great desire to kill your friend, but I fear it may be required in order to impress upon you the seriousness of your situation. I simply cannot afford to have the two of you running around telling anybody who will listen that I have been having people killed. Our measure of success depends upon the mission remaining secret until we decide otherwise. And you are the fly in the ointment.” He paused again and stared hard at the bound figure.
“I find it really interesting that you can stand there and casually tell me about how many people you have killed, without so much as a flicker of remorse. I swear to you that whether you kill Smithy or not, I will not rest until I reveal what you’ve done. I will also go back and look for any links that would indicate that you’ve been involved in more murders than I currently know about.” Jack stopped, clenching his teeth in anger, then went on. “If I can’t get to the absolute bedrock of it, I’ll go to the media. I’ll tell the Home Secretary what you’ve done...” Lemac laughed at this. “You think this is funny?” Jack was incredulous.
“Not entirely, no, but your threat to tell the Home Secretary, yes. Do you think for a moment that he does not know? Who do you think brought me in to work on this?” Lemac asked.
“But you killed his brother!”
“Actually, we did not kill his brother. His brother was hit by a vehicle, surely you didn’t forget that?” Lemac smiled.
“Yeah, running away from your pet over there.” He nodded toward Clarence. “This is unbelievable!” He sat shaking his head.
“Oh, I can assure you we have not even reached the unbelievable part of the story. We would have killed Caleb Thomas had he not had his accident, you are quite right. And I can understand your disbelief. But your disbelief is founded on a lack of knowledge and understanding, Detective. You are not in possession of all of the information required for you to comprehend or, dare I say it, condone our actions.” Lemac took the seat opposite Jack, as Clarence had before him.
“Listen to me,” said Jack. “There are no circumstances under which I would either condone or accept your actions, or those of the fuckwits you have working for you. Nothing, and I do mean nothing, could explain any of this. How did you convince the Home Secretary to employ you? What hold do you have over him?” Lemac took out a cigarette from his pack, l
it it, and then offered the pack to Jack.
“No, thank you, I don’t smoke. You know that’s what gave you away? It’s entirely possible that we would’ve gone on our way and dug around for scraps of evidence which we would probably not have found, had it not been for your lighting of the Gauloises in the Home Secretary’s office the other day?” Jack voiced his thoughts.
“I know, I remember the moment. I wasn’t certain what it was that triggered your thoughts, but I knew that you knew,” Lemac said honestly.
“Why did you do the first one? Why not let your monkey do them all?” Again he gestured at the killer.
“His name is Clarence, by the way, and he is not my monkey. He is just a man that I bring in now and again. He is very good at his job, but I fear he enjoys it far too much. Don’t you Clarence?” Lemac asked the question without turning to look at him.
“We’re wasting time, Lemac.” Clarence answered. “I don’t like your games. I’m going to leave if you have no more business for me here.”
“No, you are not leaving just yet.” As he spoke, another of his associates covered the three yards to the only door to the room and locked it. “I may still require you, and I would also like us all to be reading from the same hymn sheet. I do like that little English saying – we have no French equivalent you know.” He shrugged before going on. “Now, Detective, I will answer your first question. I have no such hold over the Home Secretary, not in the way that you think at least. He and I are bound by the same secret, one that is kept throughout the world, and one that we, that is the human race, have been aware of for around two thousand years. But I will also get to that in good time.
