‘If you let him go, he’ll come back.’ Palmer’s message was implicit; men like Fedorov were ruthless and would do anything to protect their reputation. The murder of two journalists and the killing of the supervisor’s family was proof enough of that. If he was allowed to get away, he would only go so far before re-grouping his forces. Then he would turn and come after them all. He had the means, the memory and the callousness to do it. Nobody would be safe.
‘No worries. We’ve got it covered.’ Koenig did not elaborate further. ‘That it?’
‘He also had my friend’s cat shot. I’d like to blame him for the war in Iraq, but that might be pushing it.’
Koenig looked at Fedorov with contempt. ‘I can’t stand cruelty to animals.’ He jerked his head at his two men. ‘Take him down the stairs. Maybe we’ll let him trip a few times on the way.’
He backed towards the door in the wake of his men and their prisoner. ‘You did well, Palmer,’ he said. ‘With barely any resources, you did really well.’
‘I had enough.’ Palmer wondered if the man knew about Szulu. He certainly knew about Riley.
‘The Rasta?’ Koenig was reading his mind again. ‘Yeah, we know about him. That was risky with the van, though; a touch too much bang, I thought.’
‘I’ll be sure to talk to him about it. It worked, didn’t it?’
Koenig chuckled appreciatively. ‘Yeah. It worked fine.’
Something was puzzling Palmer. ‘How did you know about Fedorov and this place?’
‘The day Riley came to see the boss? She had a tail. When a man like Pechov shows up on our radar, we like to know why.’ Koenig shrugged. ‘We had him followed. We’ve got one of the best trackers in the business on the payroll. In the end, he led us here.’
‘How long were you watching this place?’
‘Long enough. We came in when we had to.’
‘The man in the lobby?’
‘He got in our way. He went down.’ He gestured at his headset. ‘I’m told there are two more down - one of them an own goal.’ He smiled as if it was all in a day’s work. ‘Don’t worry, we’ll clear up before we leave.’
Palmer remembered the sound of footsteps charging down the back stairs, and wondered if Varley was the own goal. ‘It might have helped if you’d done that first, don’t you think?’ He couldn’t help it; with the other two men on the loose, getting back down the stairs with Fedorov in tow might have proved more of a problem than Koenig had imagined. Earlier intervention might also have helped Riley get clear and away.
‘Sorry - we had our orders.’ Koenig gestured with his weapon. ‘Anyway, we had a man stationed outside to take care of any strays.’ He paused at the door and added, ‘Tell Miss Gavin she’s welcome back in any of the company’s stores, anytime. That’s from the boss.’
‘Gee, she’ll be so made up.’
‘There’s one condition.’
‘She stops using Tesco bags?’
‘She destroys the notes. All of them. She’ll know the ones I mean.’
Palmer pursed his lips. If they were asking this, it seemed clear that the rumours nust have some substance. Not that he thought Riley was going to do anything about it. ‘She might not agree.’
Koenig looked sceptical. ‘She’s not going to use them – if she was, she’d have done it already. It’s hardly her thing, is it?’ He smiled knowingly. ‘Anyway, we’ve already got the rest from the hotel at Lancaster Gate.’
Then he was gone.
********
48
‘Shush.’Szulu touched a warning finger to Riley’s lips. They were crouched in the dark of the doorway where he’d dragged her after her escape from the building. There was a smell of rotten fruit and urine, and something scuttled away through a tangle of discarded paper. ‘Stay still.’
Riley batted his hand away. ‘Don’t shush me, you moron,’ she snapped, and felt instantly ashamed of herself. He hadn’t exactly been forced at gunpoint to wait for her to come out. Well, not this time, anyway. He could have done his bit and simply disappeared back to his safer life of driving a mini-cab.
She touched his shoulder. ‘Sorry. That was crappy of me. I always feel cranky after I’ve been tied to a chair and tortured. You did brilliantly. Thanks.’
‘No sweat. Did you say torture? Like what?’
‘Boiling water. Bleach. That kind of thing.’ She said it quickly, preferring not to dwell on what might have been if Var-Vassiliyev hadn’t come along at the right moment. And Palmer.
‘No way!’ Szulu sounded impressed. ‘Shit. They wasn’t messin’, then.’
‘No, they wasn’t.’ Riley gritted her teeth, trying to shut her mind against just how serious they had been. To add to it, now that she wasn’t running for her life, the pain was kicking in again.
Suddenly an engine roared and a van took off from the kerb and swerved into the car park.
‘It’s those blokes I told you about,’ said Szulu excitedly. ‘They left a guy outside.’
The driver stopped sideways on and close to the main doors of the building, just as all the lights on the ground floor went out. Apart from the faint wash of light from other buildings and passing traffic, it left the area around the entrance in near-darkness.
Szulu inched forward for a better view. ‘They went in after me and Palmer did our bit,’ he explained. ‘I don’t know who they are, but they’re on the same side as us.’ He looked around, ‘Must be something nasty about to happen.’
‘What makes you say that?’ said Riley.
He pointed to a nearby street light, which was out. ‘They’ve disabled the lights. They were working earlier. How would they do that?’
‘Maybe they shot them out.’
Szulu scowled at her. ‘You obsessed with guns, lady,’ he warned her. ‘You need to talk to somebody about that.’
Riley hissed a warning as a tall, slim figure stepped out of the main door towards the van and opened the nearest side door, moving briefly through the wash of the van’s brake lights. She couldn’t see his face, but she recognised something about the way he carried himself. It was Koenig, Al-Bashir’s security man.
‘Stay here,’ Szulu said. ‘I’m just going for a closer look.’
‘No way – I’m coming, too.’ Riley hustled after him, and they made their way across the road and skipped over the low wall into one corner of the car park. As they settled down to watch, two men moved quickly out of the entrance carrying something between them. They dumped the object in the van and went back inside. They came back with another load, then another.
On the fourth trip, as they moved through the lobby area, the driver, who had stepped out of the van, jumped back in and touched the brake lights. The glow was enough for Riley and Szulu to see that the load they were carrying was a man’s body, with one arm hanging down.
Riley felt the hairs move on the back of her neck. ‘What are they going to do with them?’ she whispered.
‘They clearin’ up the mess,’ Szulu replied knowingly. ‘No bodies, no proof.’ He sounded worried, though, and Riley caught the tension in his voice.
‘What’s up?’
Szulu shook his head slowly, the dreadlocks skimming against Riley’s face. ‘That’s four down.’
‘So?’
‘I counted five. At the hotel and here. There’s one missing.’
‘Are you sure?’ She remembered the body she’d seen at the rear of the lobby. That must have been one of the four they had just carried out.
‘Definite. There was a short one, like this monster body-builder.’
‘His name’s Pechov. Palmer took care of him.’
‘Yeah? Cool. Then there was two taller guys, and a big dude in some fancy threads. I think he was the boss.’
Vasiliyev. Riley didn’t say anything.
‘And there was a little guy with a bald head,’ Szulu continued. ‘I ain’t seen no bald head yet.’
‘Or Frank Palmer.’ Riley felt sick. Wherever Palmer was, she had
to believe he was still inside and safe. Palmer wouldn’t give up easily. The always laid back, often irritating but mostly sweet former military cop just wouldn’t let himself be overcome like that. He was indestructible.
The men ducked back inside the building, leaving the driver in the van, watching the car park and the street. For one moment, it seemed as if he was staring right at them.
Szulu gave a soft hiss and froze, his hand gripping Riley’s arm in warning.
‘What’s wrong?’ Riley whispered. ‘I thought you said they were the good guys.’
‘I did. But that don’t mean they’d be stoked with anyone seeing them movin’ a bunch of dead bodies around, does it?’
There was a movement at the entrance, and the other men re-appeared. This time, they had a figure sandwiched between them. He was on his feet, but seemed reluctant to go with them. For the last couple of yards, the men picked him up and carried him. They pushed him inside and closed the door.
Seconds later, they were gone, leaving just a wisp of exhaust smoke hanging in the air.
Riley and Szulu waited, both thinking the worst.
Then, from behind them, Frank Palmer’s voice drifted out of the dark. ‘Are you two girls staying here all night? Only I’m gagging for a pizza.’
*******
49
Three days later, with the pain from her burns slowly receding, Riley held a planning meeting with Mr Grobowski.
The surgery had called to say that there was a problem with the cat: he was howling so loudly, he was keeping the other resident animals awake. They would consider an early release, but on condition that someone would be able to look after him and change his dressings.
‘Is not a problems, Miss Riley,’ the elderly Pole boomed eagerly when she told him. ‘You bring him homes and I be his nurses for as long as it takes.’ He paused uncertainly. ‘Is okay with you, of course?’
‘Of course it is, Mr G. You know Lipinski – he’s a free agent. If it hadn’t been for your magic meatballs, he’d never have survived.’
‘Sure, I knowing that.’ He smiled shyly and rubbed at his craggy face. ‘You are very kind persons, Miss Riley. We are like little family, I think.’ He rushed away downstairs, suddenly overcome by emotion and muttering about having to cook more meatballs.
He passed Palmer and Szulu on the way. The two men had come in response to Riley’s offer of lunch at the Belvedere in Holland Park, as a thank you for their help.
‘You know, I never got into this sort of trouble before I met you two,’ said Szulu, slumping onto the sofa. It had been a recurring theme ever since they had left Palatine House. ‘Mind you, I never got taken to no fancy restaurants, neither.’ He grinned. ‘I am so gonna give the menu a pastin’ man, I warn you.’
‘Suits me,’ said Riley approvingly. ‘You deserve it.’
Palmer nodded in agreement. ‘I second that. But,’ he gave Szulu a stern look, ‘you haven’t mentioned any of what you saw to your girlfriends, have you? We’ve got too much to lose.’
‘Hey, man – what you take me for?’ Szulu looked hurt. ‘I ain’t no blabbermouth. I’m a professional - I know when to keep it zipped.’
Before Palmer could say more, there was a knock on the door. Riley opened it.
It was DI Craig Pell. He was alone.
‘I’ve been trying to get hold of you,’ he said sternly. His eyes flicked past her shoulder and fixed on Palmer and Szulu.
‘I’m sorry,’ Riley replied, ushering him in. ‘I’ve been between the hospital and the vet’s surgery. Neither of them like people using their mobiles.’ She smiled sweetly, daring him to call her a liar. ‘Would you like some tea?’
‘No, thanks.’ His eyes widened when he noticed the reddened skin on her neck and lower jaw.
Riley nudged him along, to stop him asking questions. ‘Was there something else?’
‘Uh, yes, actually. I got a report that there was a shooting on these premises. I need some details.’ He looked at them in turn, but Palmer was ignoring him and Szulu was pretending he was somewhere else.
‘The shooting was downstairs,’ said Riley firmly. ‘I was out. It was probably a case of mistaken identity.’
‘Yes. The old bloke downstairs says the same thing. At least, I think that’s what he said.’
‘Why are you investigating it? This isn’t your area, is it?’
‘My area is wherever I’m sent.’ He gave her a tight look and explained, ‘We have this new situations alert software that’s been installed. It’s pretty neat. Anything happening within a mile of a known address gets flagged for immediate attention.’ He smiled proudly.
‘Known?’ Riley’s eyebrows shot up. ‘What do you mean ‘known’? This isn’t a crack house!’
Pell’s smile vanished in an instant. ‘I’m sorry. It’s still in the trials stage and I entered your address as a test. I was… concerned.’ He puffed his lips and looked away, his face going pink around the edges.
Palmer exchanged a knowing look with Szulu.
‘Oh.’ Riley was slightly mollified. ‘In that case, thank you. But I don’t know anyone who’d want to harm a cat. Mr Grobowski said he thought the man may have been on drugs.’
‘Yes. Interesting man, Mr Grobowski.’ It seemed the nearest Pell was going to get to calling the elderly Pole a liar. ‘There’s also a report pending about a kidnapping outside a vet’s surgery. The same surgery where your cat was being treated for a gunshot wound. That was also flagged on our new system. The only eyewitness is now having doubts. She thinks it might have been a prank.’
They returned his stare with blank looks. He sighed. ‘I was told I’d have days like this. How is the cat, by the way?’
‘He’s fine. I’m bringing him home soon.’
‘That’s good.’ He cleared his throat and addressed Palmer. ‘We don’t have any new leads on Miss Bellamy’s murder, I’m afraid. The foreign national she met in west London seems to have disappeared… if he ever existed. But we’ll continue with the investigation, of course. I just want to warn you that we may never find out what happened. I’m sorry.’
Palmer nodded without comment.
‘You don’t seem surprised.’ Pell’s voice was dangerously soft. He waited for a few seconds, but when nothing was forthcoming, he shrugged. ‘I’ve got to go. Oh, one thing more: there was a serious ruckus in Euston three nights ago. Reports of shots, a vehicle blown up in the street and armed men inside an office building. No bodies, though.’
‘Really?’ Riley forced the word out through a dry throat, not daring to look at Palmer or Szulu. Where was this going? Did Pell know something or was he just fishing?
‘Yeah. It took place at a building called Pantile House. Like the one in the photo you were sent by Miss Bellamy.’ He glanced at Palmer. ‘Added to that, the building supervisor is missing and his family are all dead. A nasty business.’
Palmer returned the look with steady eyes. ‘What some people will do to get a cheap office.’
Pell seemed to subside, his tone softening. ‘There’s a possible link with a Serbian drugs gang. The dead man moved here to get away from them.’ He shook his head. ‘Obviously, it wasn’t far enough.’ He glanced at Riley and gestured towards the door. ‘Could we have a word? In private?’
Riley followed him out onto the landing. She could hear Mr Grobowski singing in his flat, a mournful dirge which, for him passed as light music.
The moment Pell’s eyes settled on her burns, she said, ‘Please don’t ask. I feel stupid enough already, without having it pointed out to me. I had an accident in the kitchen. It happens.’
‘Oh.’ He looked apologetic. ‘I didn’t mean to embarrass you. But that’s not what I was going to say.’
‘The answer’s, yes,’ she said, before he could elaborate. It was more for her sake than his, before she lost her resolve and shut herself away like a nun. John Mitcheson was out there somewhere, she knew that. And he might re-appear at any time. But life was for living, and ti
me was too precious to sit around waiting for maybes. ‘Dinner,’ she continued, ‘anytime after today and anywhere you like except Korean. I tried it once and it didn’t agree with me.’
Pell grinned. ‘You don’t mess about, do you? How did you know I was going to ask?’
‘I didn’t. Haven’t you heard – we girls are doing it for ourselves these days.’ She looked at him with wide eyes. ‘Or am I being too forward? Only, if you’re not interested-’
‘I am. I am.’ He reached out and touched her arm, then snatched it back. ‘Uh, I’ll call you. Later.’
‘You’re not concerned, then?’
‘About what?’
‘About being seen fraternising with a member of the press. It might tarnish your image.’
He pretended to give the possibility serious consideration. ‘Actually, I’m more concerned about your accident rate. I’ve been reading up on you. Gangs on the Costa, DEA rogue agents, Colombian drugs. And now shot cats and domestic accidents. I hope it’s not catching.’
‘Well,’ she said, ‘you’ll just have to find out, won’t you?’
He fluttered his eyebrows, then turned away.
Riley watched him go back downstairs.
She was smiling.
END
Thank you for reading this fifth book in the Riley & Palmer crime series. I hope you enjoyed it. If you are interested in reading more of my work, please visit my website or Facebook author page for more details).
Other books by Adrian Magson
Riley Gavin/Frank Palmer series
No Peace for the Wicked
No Help for the Dying
No Sleep for the Dead
No Tears for the Lost
Harry Tate spy series (Severn House)
Red Station
Tracers
Deception
Retribution
Inspector Lucas Rocco crime series (Allison & Busby)
NO KISS FOR THE DEVIL (Gavin & Palmer) Page 24
