by Val McDermid
Tony tried not to show the pain Radecki’s words gave him. He kept his gaze level, his eyes unflinchingly on the other man’s face.
‘I set her a little test, you see. I knew she was hot to fuck me last night, but she held back. If you were telling the truth, I knew she’d come across if she thought that playing hard to get was going to cost her our little deal. But if you were lying, she could never fuck me, could she? Because then all her evidence would be tainted. If it ever came to court, my lawyer would destroy her.’ He unfolded his arms and thrust his hands in the pockets of his trousers. It was a strut, and Tony recognized it as such.
‘And so, I demonstrated to my own satisfaction that you were indeed lying.’ His mouth curved in a humourless smile. ‘But I fucked her anyway. I fucked her mouth, I fucked her cunt, I fucked her ass. You should be grateful that I’m going to kill you, because after what I did to her, you’d never want to go near her again.’
There was a sort of relief in the confirmation of his imminent death, Tony thought. At least he wouldn’t have to live with the guilt. He tried to speak, but nothing came out.
‘I think our guest needs some lubrication, Darko.’
Krasic disappeared, returning with a bottle of mineral water. He crouched down and grabbed Tony by the hair, pouring the freezing water over his face and into his open mouth. Tony spluttered and gagged, but his mouth was no longer agonizingly dry.
‘You were about to say something, Dr Hill?’ Radecki said politely.
‘You’re boring me,’ Tony croaked. ‘Just finish the job.’
Radecki pouted. ‘What is it with you Brits? You’ve got no sense of fun. That bitch Carol wouldn’t even put up a fight. But then, maybe she was enjoying it?’
Tony wasn’t going to rise to such transparent bait. He said nothing.
‘You know why I’m going to kill you? It’s not because you lied to me. It’s because your people killed Katerina. She had done nothing wrong except to love me. Oh, and of course she had the misfortune to look like a convenient detective. So, I have to live with that.’ For the first time, his face showed an emotion other than triumph or contempt. ‘Just as Carol Jordan will have to live with the fact that what she is has cost you your life.’ He pulled a gun out of the waistband of his trousers.
Tony closed his eyes and waited.
Carol reached for the door handle. ‘Hold on,’ Marijke said.
‘Why? Petra’s crew are all out of sight. We’ve come this far, I want to be there.’
‘Think about it,’ Marijke said, reaching to take Carol’s hand in hers. ‘It may be this is not the place. If Petra will see you, she will be angry. She will make us go away. You know this is the first time we have met? I don’t want her to think I am a fool. Anyway,’ she carried on over Carol’s objection, ‘you cannot walk so far, I think. We wait and see, and if they go in, we drive down and you can see it all for yourself.’
‘I’m sorry, Marijke. I’m not thinking straight. You’re right.’
‘I know this is hard. You love him, yes?’
‘Yes. I love him.’ She’d never admitted it to another living soul. It was rather late to be starting now, but Carol felt she owed Tony that affirmation at least. ‘But I don’t think he’s ever believed it.’
‘You are lovers, yes?’
Carol shook her head. ‘It’s a complicated story. The circumstances were never right. Or so we thought.’ She sighed. ‘I wish now it had been different.’
‘Don’t despair. He’s probably still alive. Petra will get him out.’
Carol squeezed the other woman’s hand. ‘Marijke, even if he gets out of this alive, there’s not a chance in hell that we can be together. Not after what Radecki did to me tonight. Besides, it was me who brought him here, remember? If I hadn’t asked him to come, he’d be home now. Safe and well.’
There was nothing more to be said, Marijke thought. At least, not now. She had seen too many rape victims over the years to offer platitudes now.
Petra took a deep breath and set off, walking fast but stealthily towards the spot where she’d seen the lights die. The empty Mercedes was parked outside a small building with corrugated metal walls and roof. There was a big roller door in the middle of the frontage, with a small wooden door set to one side. There was no cover between them and the door, but equally there were no windows to reveal their approach.
She put her head down and ran for it, her trainers almost silent on the asphalt. She flattened herself against the wall on one side of the door, Morgan and the Special Ops commander lined up on the other. Petra inched sideways, putting her ear to the door. Nothing. She shook her head. He winked at her and took a small hand drill from one of his many pockets. He placed it against the door and delicately turned the brace. Even standing next to him, Petra couldn’t hear a thing.
Once the hole was made, he inserted a small microphone, then handed her a single earphone. Radecki’s voice echoed loud and clear in her head as if someone had flicked a switch. ‘… oing to kill you? It’s not because you lied to me. It’s because your people killed Katerina. She had done nothing wrong except to love –’ Petra ripped the earphone out.
‘He’s in there. Tony’s in there. Radecki’s threatening him. We need to go in now.’
He nodded. ‘Stand clear.’
Petra jumped back as he drew his semi-automatic machine pistol and blew the lock out of the door in a single burst of fire. He kicked the door open and raced inside. She was at his heels, gun drawn for the second time that night. She had no idea where Morgan was, nor did she care.
She took it all in instantaneously, brain processing the scene. Radecki swinging round to face them, gun in hand. Krasic over to one side, reaching towards his back, then looking baffled and horrified. Tony’s white body naked and bound between Radecki and them. ‘Armed police, drop your weapons!’ a voice roared. She realized with a shock that it was hers.
Radecki’s face showed panic. He let off a loose shot that came nowhere near them. Petra took aim, her world narrowing to a tight focus. But before she could squeeze the trigger, there was another burst of automatic fire. Scarlet sprayed out in several directions from Radecki’s legs and he crumpled to the floor, screaming, his gun clattering off out of reach.
From the corner of her eye, Petra caught sight of Krasic charging down the Special Ops commander. She swung round and, without pause for thought, squeezed out a single shot. It hit the Serb in the gut, felling him instantly.
Petra stood frozen to the spot, her ears ringing from the gunfire, her nostrils filled with the smell of cordite. Radecki was still squealing like a pig, while Krasic gurgled like a half-blocked drain. She heard running feet, then The Shark’s voice. ‘Fuck, I always miss the action,’ he complained.
‘We need ambulances, Shark. I don’t want these two bastards to bleed to death. Go and radio for the paramedics. And you better get KriPo along too,’ Petra said dully. She dropped her gun to the floor and walked like a zombie to Tony. She crouched down beside him, slipping her jacket off and putting it over his shoulders. His face was a mess, though nothing like as bad as Carol’s had been. ‘Somebody get a knife over here,’ she called.
One of the Special Ops guys trotted over, opening a Swiss Army knife and handing it to her. For the second time that night, she freed someone she liked and respected from their bonds. Tony gave a shuddering cry as his arms and legs cramped at their sudden release.
Morgan knelt down by Tony and started massaging his legs. ‘It’s a bastard, but it passes quickly,’ he said.
Then Tony thought he was hallucinating. He heard Carol’s voice, riven with concern. ‘Tony? Tony, are you OK?’ He struggled to roll on to his back, but his arms had no strength. Gently, Morgan grasped his shoulders and turned him towards the door.
Petra jumped to her feet, astonishment on her face as she registered the arrival of Carol and Marijke. ‘What the fuck are you two doing here?’ she said, half-laughing, half-crying.
Carol ignored her, m
aking for Tony like a pigeon for home. Gandle stepped into her path. ‘DCI Jordan?’ he said uncertainly, putting a hand on her arm.
‘Take your fucking hands off me,’ she snarled, brushing past him and continuing on her way. Unconscious of her own injuries, she knelt on the floor beside Tony, cradling his head against her breast. ‘I’m so sorry,’ she choked. ‘I’m so sorry.’
Words were beyond him. He simply clung to her. There they stayed, oblivious to the hubbub around them as paramedics and police swarmed into the building. They were impervious to everything until Radecki’s voice cut through the clamour in a roar. ‘You think you’ve won, bitch?’ Suddenly there was silence. ‘I might be going to jail, but compared to you, I’m free. You’ll never be free of me.’
39
Petra let herself into her apartment and closed the door quietly behind her. It was early evening, but she didn’t want to risk waking Tony if he’d managed to fall asleep. He’d been staying in her apartment at her insistence ever since his discharge from hospital. They’d kept him in for a single night, out of concern about possible hypothermia rather than his acute injuries. Three broken ribs, two broken fingers and a shattered cheekbone weren’t enough to justify occupying a hospital bed, the doctor had firmly told Petra when she had protested against so swift a release. ‘He’ll probably need some reconstructive surgery on his cheek, but that’ll have to wait for a while,’ he’d said.
So Petra had brought him back to her place. She didn’t think he was fit to be left alone, and he didn’t want to return home until Wilhelm Mann had been arrested. Now his involvement in the case was out in the open, his profile had been shared with the German police teams investigating the murders. She knew, because he’d told her, that he’d been taking phone calls from the officers in Heidelberg, Bremen and Köln, but he’d said little about their content, merely that they seemed to be taking his analysis seriously. In truth, he’d not said much about anything, spending long hours staring into space, apparently oblivious to Petra’s presence.
Carol of course had been whisked away to Den Haag by Morgan and Gandle. They had informed Hanna Plesch that they would debrief Carol there and pass on all their information to the Berlin criminal intelligence unit, who were working flat out to roll up Radecki’s networks across Germany and beyond. Petra had complained about this too, but she might as well have saved her breath. Plesch was perfectly happy to have one less thing to think about in the aftermath of the dramatic and unorthodox climax to the operation against Radecki.
Petra had endured an uncomfortable interview with her boss on the subject of Tony’s presence in Berlin and her own involvement in the serial killer investigation. But once it looked as though nothing was going to emerge in the media about the more bizarre elements of the showdown, Plesch had relaxed. She’d been more concerned over the possibility of having to answer questions about the presence of a Dutch cop and two British intelligence officers in a Special Ops action than she was about what she called Petra’s anarchic behaviour. She could afford to be indulgent after such a good result, Petra thought.
Marijke had left for Köln the next morning on an early flight. They’d managed to spend rather less than an hour alone together in the course of that chaotic night, and they’d both been too dazed by events to be capable of anything other than bemused, sporadic conversation. Petra had a horrible feeling that they’d never find a way back to their previous ease with each other, and she regretted the loss already.
She walked quietly through to the living room, where Tony was sitting upright on the sofa. ‘Hi,’ she said.
‘Good day?’
She shrugged out of her leather jacket and tossed it over a chair. ‘Hard work. We’ve been pulling in Radecki’s underlings all day and trying to find enough bodies to interview them. Even with all leave cancelled, we’re struggling.’
‘But at least you feel like you’re getting somewhere,’ he said.
‘Oh yeah, we’re making real progress.’
‘That’s more than can be said for Marijke.’
Petra gave him a quizzical look. ‘Have you been talking to her today?’
He nodded. ‘She called this afternoon. She’s got to go back to Köln tomorrow, and she wanted to know if she should come via Berlin. She couldn’t get hold of you at the office or on your mobile, so she rang here.’
‘What did you tell her?’
Tony smiled. ‘I told her she’d better book a hotel room since I’d turfed you out of your bed and I didn’t think the two of you would fancy sharing the sofa.’
Petra felt a blush spread up her neck and across her face. ‘So when does she get here?’
Tony looked at his watch. ‘She’ll be walking through the door any time now.’
Her face crumpled into a mask of consternation. ‘Oh shit! I need to shower, I’m disgusting.’
‘I don’t think she’ll care about that.’
‘I care!’ Petra started for the bathroom, but before she could get there, the door buzzer sounded. ‘Oh shit,’ she repeated.
‘Too late.’ Tony edged forward on the seat, wincing as his ribs protested at the movement. ‘I’ll just go and have a lie-down.’
‘No, stay,’ Petra commanded, looking worried. She pressed the door release and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. ‘Jesus, I am so nervous about this.’ She swallowed hard and went to open the apartment door. She leaned in the doorway and listened to the footsteps echoing in the stairwell.
Then suddenly Marijke was there, grinning from ear to ear. ‘Hello,’ she said. ‘You don’t mind?’
Petra opened her arms and enveloped her in a hug. ‘I’m so glad to see you,’ she mumbled into her hair.
‘I booked a hotel, like Tony said. But I wanted to talk to you both first,’ Marijke said, pulling away to plant a kiss on the corner of Petra’s mouth.
‘Both of us?’
Marijke nodded. Petra took her hand and led her inside. The three of them exchanged greetings and commiserations over Tony’s injuries while Petra opened a bottle of wine. ‘So,’ she said. ‘What is it you need to talk to us both about?’
‘I have to go back to Köln to discuss what we do about Mann,’ Marijke said. ‘They have been looking at him for four days now and he has done nothing at all suspicious. And they tell me that tomorrow the Rhine will be reopened to commercial traffic, and it will be difficult to keep him under surveillance once the Wilhelmina Rosen is under way.’
Petra snorted. ‘What they mean is that it’ll cost too much. Jesus, I hate those tight, stupid provincials.’
‘They might also be afraid that they’ll lose him and he’ll kill again and they’ll get caught up in a firestorm of media blame,’ Tony pointed out.
‘I don’t think they want to call it off. But we know now that the Wilhelmina Rosen’s next destination will be Rotterdam. Mann must be aware that he’s the subject of a manhunt here in Germany, but so far we have managed to avoid anyone in the media making the connection with our case in Leiden, so I think he’ll feel more safe to kill in Holland.’
‘So you’re going to continue the surveillance once he crosses the border?’ Petra asked.
‘This is what we will discuss tomorrow. If he comes to Holland, I want to end it. I don’t want this to drag out. But unless he makes a definite move, we will have nothing against him except circumstantial evidence. So I need your help. I am thinking maybe you will have better ideas than me?’
Petra stood up and paced the floor. ‘Let’s look at what we’ve got. We have the car that Dr Schilling’s boyfriend saw and a matching car with Hamburg plates near the scene of de Groot’s murder, which gives us Wilhelm Mann. We have a smear of marine engine oil on the folder he left in Pieter de Groot’s filing system …’
‘And no forensics from any of the other three recovered files,’ Marijke chipped in gloomily.
Petra continued undaunted. ‘We also have a sailor’s knot, which leads back to Wilhelm Mann.’
‘And thousands of ot
her people,’ Tony pointed out.
‘Thank you, Tony,’ Petra countered with a sardonic smile. ‘Thanks to the work the river police have been doing over the last week, we can put the Wilhelmina Rosen at or near all four murders, which also gives us Wilhelm Mann. We have a killer who uses the alias Hochenstein. Tony’s list from Schloss Hochenstein gives us an Albert Mann who was a child survivor of psychological experiments.’
Marijke butted in. ‘Yesterday we heard from the cops in Hamburg. They did a records search on Wilhelm Mann which gives him a grandfather called Albert Mann with the same date of birth as the man on Tony’s list from Schloss Hochenstein. He died two years ago. The inquest said it was an accident, but if you look at it with the idea that his grandson is a killer, it is not hard to see that it could have been murder.’
‘Christ, with that much circumstantial evidence, why don’t Köln just bring him in for questioning? I would,’ Petra complained.
‘It wouldn’t do any good,’ Tony said. ‘I doubt he’d say anything.’
‘So what do we do?’ Marijke said plaintively.
There was a long silence. Petra threw herself down on the sofa, making Tony flinch. He gritted his teeth and said, ‘I think I could break him.’
‘They wouldn’t let you interrogate him,’ Petra pointed out.
‘I’m not talking about a formal interrogation,’ Tony said. ‘I’m talking about me and him, one to one.’
Petra shook her head. ‘No way. You’re not fit enough for anything like that. He could kill you like snapping a stick.’
‘I’m not that pathetic,’ Tony said. ‘I’ve been moving around a lot more today. The painkillers are starting to kick in. I can do it.’
‘I thought you said his English was poor,’ Petra objected.
‘Ich kann Deutsch sprechen,’ Tony said.
Petra stared at him open-mouthed. ‘You kept very quiet about that.’
‘How do you think I managed to read the case files?’ He dipped his head at Marijke in acknowledgement. ‘I was very grateful that you had your material translated into German, because I really can’t manage Dutch.’
