by Ellis, Tim
‘What time is it?’
‘Have you got somewhere important you gotta be?’
‘Eventually, yes.’
Philly joined them. ‘Are you gonna kill ‘im, Charlie? Don’t forget I want his baby.’
‘If and when I decide what we’re going to do with him I’ll let you know, Philly. In the meantime, stop bothering him. And don’t think I ain’t been seeing you making rude signs at him.’
Philly giggled into her dirty hands. ‘I’m just ‘aving some fun with ‘im, Charlie.’
‘I know, but remember he could be tellin’ the truth, then how you gonna look?’
The two shuffled back to the brazier, which began spitting and crackling after being fed with dried wood.
Randall waited. He desperately needed a piss, but imagining Philly holding it for him he wasn’t about to say anything. He felt as though he was in a sensory deprivation tank. The clues to time were missing. He had no idea whether it was day or night, or how long he had been held captive. His backside was numb, and he wanted to get up to stretch his arms and legs, but he wiggled his fingers and drifted off to sleep instead.
The next thing he knew was someone undoing the ties at his wrists and ankles.
‘Seems you was tellin’ the truth, Mr Randall,’ Charlie said.
After putting his penis back in his trousers and zipping himself up, he stood. ‘I’d like my things back, please.’
They gave him everything back, including the £40 that Charlie had kept for emergencies. Randall checked he still had his tube ticket and handed the money back saying: ‘Keep it’
‘Are you sure?’ Charlie said.
‘I can get more.’
Charlie gave him the gun back. ‘Tolly’s on lookout, he’s got the magazine with the rounds in. He’ll give it you when he shows you out. Wouldn’t want you shooting us by mistake after the way we treated you.’
‘I’m not going to shoot any of you,’ he said as he put his watch back on and realised he’d been in Viking Wharf most of the day when he saw that it was six twenty.
Philly came up looking as though she might burst into tears. ‘What about my baby, Charlie?’
‘He was tellin’ the truth, Philly, maybe next time.’
‘Maybe next time it’ll be too late for me, Charlie. I’m not getting’ any younger, you know.’
‘You wouldn’t like to give Philly a baby before you go would you, Mr Randall?’ Charlie asked him.
Randall smiled. ‘I don’t think so.’
Tolly escorted him outside, and gave him his rucksack and torch back. ‘The mag’s in the front pocket,’ he said before shutting the front door.
He made his way back along the towpath in the cold and dark, relieving himself in some bushes. His phone gave a weak jingle. He had two messages on his voicemail, but when he tried to retrieve them his battery died. Charlie and his friends had used up every penny of credit and drained the battery. He guessed one of the two messages would be from Molly. She’d be as angry as hell he’d missed their meeting again, until she found out why, then she’d laugh. He smiled as he imagined the content of the message.
‘Crap,’ he said out loud as he checked his pockets. He’d left his tablets on the coffee table in Kiri’s flat. Either he had to abandon them to their fate and wrestle with his nightmares again, or go round to her flat and get them.
Reaching the path that led up to Fulham High Street he turned left and retraced his steps back to Putney Bridge tube station. It was ten past seven. The station was busy, and rush hour hadn’t yet petered out. He reached Hammersmith station at ten to eight and decided to go round to Kiri’s to get his medication. The thought of another night of nightmares forced his hand. He would get the pills, tell her he needed time on his own to think, and go back to his own flat – simple.
The café was closed, but there was a separate entrance at the side. He banged on the door, shocked at how loud it sounded.
The light came on, and he could see her silhouette walking down the stairs through the textured glass.
‘Who is it?’
‘It’s me.’
‘I’m sorry, I don’t know anyone called Smee.’
‘I know you’re angry, and…’
‘What do you want?’
‘I left my pills on the coffee table.’
‘You’ve not come to apologise?’
He thought back to this morning. Apologise for what? Yes, he had left without saying goodbye, avoided her eyes as he skulked past the window, but those things could be explained away. He hadn’t actually done or said anything to apologise for.
‘Apologise for what?’
‘If you don’t know then I can’t help you, goodbye Cole Randall.’
She turned and began to climb the stairs. His heart rate increased to a dangerous level and a wave of panic swept over him.
‘Wait…’
‘Your last chance, then we’re history.’
He saw her sit on the third or fourth stair. Did she still have her work clothes on, or had she changed into something more comfortable? He could smell her perfumed body through the door. He couldn’t smell Sarah anymore, couldn’t even remember what she smelled like. Kiri’s smell had wiped out his olfactory memories of Sarah. He wanted to avenge his wife and children, but he also wanted Kiri. Was that bad? Was he a terrible person?
‘I’m a coward,’ he said. ‘I was going to leave without telling you. You were right I am falling in love with you, but…’ tears ran down his cheeks and he wiped them away with the back of his hands.
The door opened. ‘I… Christ, you stink like a sewer.’
They both laughed.
‘I’m sorry,’ he said.
‘Apology accepted, but if you slither out on your belly like a serpent again, I won’t even answer the door. You need to talk to me. We can’t make this work unless we’re honest with each other. I know you’re struggling to let go of your wife and children. I’m not asking you to do that, but you can’t follow them yet, it’s not your time. You must live your life for me now.’
‘I know. Are we going to talk on the doorstep all night?’
She moved to one side. ‘Take your clothes off and leave them here... everything.’
‘But…’
‘I told you I don’t want smelly men in my flat.’
‘How many smelly men do you know?’
‘I know lots, but you’re the only one that keeps coming round wanting to come in.’
He stripped naked, left the clothes where they fell, put the Glock in the rucksack, and followed her upstairs.
‘Straight in the shower, I’ll come and scrub your back.’
She scrubbed more than his back, and they made love as if they were the last two people on Earth. Afterwards, she cooked him sausage, bacon and eggs, and he told her about Philly.
‘And you didn’t give her a baby?’
‘There’d have been no point, Social Services would have taken it from her.’
‘How mean are you?’ she said.
He chased her laughing into the bedroom and tickled her into submission. It was then that he realised he wasn’t going to kill himself. He wanted to live, and now he had to reconcile himself to the loss of his wife and children.
Chapter Fifty-One
At seven-thirty she left the files spread out on her desk, and walked down to the front door. The reception was full of two families shouting at each other and three Constables trying to calm things down. She forced her way through the bodies and headed towards Hammersmith tube station.
Andrew was waiting for her. Huddled into his scarf and coat, and stamping his feet as if he was trying to exterminate an army of cockroaches.
‘I hate winter,’ he said leaning down to kiss her on the lips.
Molly linked his arm. ‘Should we?’
Collars up, snuggled into scarves, and heads bent against the freezing wind they crossed Beadon Road and began walking up Hammersmith Grove.
‘We should go away for
Christmas,’ Andrew said. ‘Somewhere exotic, with a sun-drenched beach, topless sunbathing, and cocktails at the snap of a finger.’
She nodded. ‘I’ll book some leave and get my one-piece bikini out.’
Inside the Chapulines restaurant they were shown to a table for two. The table was made of wood with a large tile inset into the middle, which had a cactus, sand, blue sky and a sun painted on it in vibrant colours. Displayed on the mustard-coloured walls hung Aztec artefacts such as masks, necklaces, spears, a fantastical feathered headdress, and sumptuous artwork depicting jaguars, snakes and eagles. Molly imagined that the halls of Montezuma might have looked something like this. In the background, she heard the rumble of drums as if a human sacrifice was about to be offered by priests eager to please the God Huitzilopochtli.
Andrew ordered a bottle of red wine. ‘It’ll take me all night to thaw out,’ he said. ‘I might need somebody to warm my exposed parts.’
She smiled. ‘I’m available for such onerous tasks tonight, Andrew.’
His eyes opened wide. ‘You are?’ He reached across the table and held her hands in his. ‘Christmas has come early. You won’t regret it.’
‘I’d better not. I want to see those bloody swans pirouetting on the Serpentine, and don’t forget I need some love as well.’
‘Oh, the swans will pirouette at your beauty, and you’ll get more love than you can possibly handle tonight, Princess. I’ve been saving all my love up for you. You’ve solved the case then?’
‘No, not yet, but we’re very close. I just felt tonight was the right time. You’ve waited long enough, and I don’t want to lose you.’
‘You’re not going to lose me, Princess, I’ll be with you forever.’
‘Forever is a long time, Andrew.’
His eyes sparkled. ‘Yes, it is.’
The waiter came and took their order. Andrew asked for the Chilli chicken fajitas, Mexican potatoes and sour cream dip, while she had the Mexican lime chicken and warm rice salad with borlotti beans and avocado salsa.
‘You’re sure?’ he said once the waiter had left. ‘I don’t want you to feel pressured in any way, that’s not how I’d like our relationship to begin.’
‘I’m sure.’
After waiting so long for someone to love her, she had found the perfect man. Although she tried to control her imagination she couldn’t help thinking of a summer wedding and the planning necessary for that to happen. Maybe she would hire a wedding planner to do the work for her. Who would give her away? Her father was gone, and like her he was an only child. Maybe she could ask Randall, as long as the stupid bastard hadn’t killed himself by then. What would she do about the bridesmaids? She didn’t really know any of her relatives or their children. In fact, apart from the five members of her team, she didn’t really know anybody. She hadn’t kept in contact with anyone from school or university. Work colleagues were just that. They didn’t really know her and she didn’t socialise with them. She would liked to have had a church wedding dressed in a flowing white lace gown, but she objected to filling her side of the church with people she didn’t know or like because it was expected. She didn’t even go to church, had no idea where her local church was, or who the vicar was. Didn’t believe in a God who could take her mum and dad the way He had. Within a handful of minutes she had decided to get married in a Registry Office. Would Andrew agree? He’d want her to have the very best. Maybe he would want a church wedding and refuse to marry her unless she agreed. Maybe…
‘A penny for them?’ Andrew said pouring more wine into her glass.
‘They’re not worth that much, Andrew. You don’t want to haggle then?’
His eyes creased to slits. ‘I’d very much like to haggle with you, Princess, but I prefer to do it underneath a warm quilt.’
As they ate, all their conversation turned into foreplay for what was to come. Everything they said had a double meaning.
Soon, they had devoured the main course, and when the sweet trolley appeared Molly selected a slab of chocolate cake with cream thinking that an hour of sex would work it off.
Again, Andrew refused to let her pay her share. They wrapped up in coats and scarves and stepped outside.
‘We could get a taxi?’ Andrew suggested. His breath visible as he blew into his hands.
‘No, let’s walk,’ she said. ‘I need the exercise after that chocolate cake.’
‘Walking in the freezing cold is more like punishment than exercise,’ he replied. ‘Did I say how I hated the cold?’
‘It’ll make you appreciate a hot-blooded woman more.’
He grunted, clearly not happy.
So they walked, and half way down Hammersmith Grove Molly wished she’d agreed to a taxi. The temperature had plummeted while they’d been in the restaurant, and now she thought it felt like snow.
‘How are we getting to my flat,’ Andrew asked.
‘I’ll obviously need my car in the morning,’ Molly said. ‘I have no change of clothes, toothbrush, hair dryer, and so on. I’ll need to get up early and go home before I go to work.’
‘I’ll walk you to your car, then go and get mine. We’ll meet on King Street, and you can follow me to my flat.
At her car Andrew kissed her as if he was setting off on a trek to the North Pole.
Molly laughed. ‘Anybody would think we were saying goodbye, Andrew.’
His face turned ugly, and the sparkle in his eyes was replaced by a darkness she had never seen before. ‘I’m afraid it is goodbye, Princess.’
‘I’m sorry…’ She felt something sharp pierce the skin of her neck.
Andrew held her tight, and as she began to struggle he pushed her against the car with his body. When she tried to cry out, he put his mouth over hers. They were like two lovers locked in a deadly embrace. She began to feel disoriented and unable to control her arms and legs. As a curtain of blackness began to unfold behind her eyes, she realised what a stupid fool she’d been. She knew nothing about him, except what he’d told her. She so desperately wanted to be loved by someone she had forgotten to look after her own safety. She should have checked him out on the database, taken a sample of his DNA. Now, she had become a victim herself, and what was worse – no one knew she was seeing him. Oh, Abby knew his name, but she knew then that Andrew wasn’t his real name.
As if in a dream, she watched as he took her keys, opened the back door of the car, and lay her down on the seat. Her mobile played Dirge by Bob Dylan in her pocket. It was Randall, where the hell was he when she needed him?
‘You’re going to have so much fun over the next few days, Princess,’ he said stroking the side of her face. ‘We’ve been waiting a long time for you.’
Oh God!
Day Six
Tuesday, 10th November
Chapter Fifty-Two
At five-thirty Randall woke up with an erection and tried to barge his way into the shower with Kiri, but because she knew what would happen she refused to let him in. He had to content himself with a pee in the toilet, and washing his face and brushing his teeth in the sink.
He needed to re-charge his phone and find out who the messages were from. There were only four people who had his number. Kiri hadn’t rung him, and he guessed Ruby hadn’t called, so the second message must have been from Athena about Malachi Pike, but saying what? The call had been made during the day, so he surmised she was probably informing him that Pike was back from Israel. He hoped there had been no other calls from Athena last night. He also hadn’t a clue what was going on with the case, so he’d ring Molly this morning and catch up.
So much for his resolve never to see Kiri again. He was in a lot deeper now than he was before.
He had to walk down the side stairs naked and get dressed by the front door, but before he left he promised Kiri he would return to the café at eight-thirty for breakfast. On his way to the flat, he called in at a Newsagent to buy a stack of newspapers, add fifty pounds of credit to his phone, and withdraw two hundred and
fifty pounds from the cashpoint. At the flat, he immediately put the phone on charge while he had a shower and changed his clothes. He had accumulated a pile of dirty clothes that he didn’t know what to do with. Maybe later, he’d take them to be dry cleaned.
While he was making himself a coffee, he noticed the output on the printer and picked it up. When he saw the list of Pike’s property holdings he remembered Ruby’s email attachment. He skimmed through it wondering why it was six pages long when the document that Molly had given him was only two pages. Laying the two lists down side by side on the worktop, he began crossing off the properties that appeared on both documents. At the top was a list of names under which Pike had accumulated property. On Molly’s list there were four names, but on Ruby’s list there were six. As well as Pike, Hartman, Bailey, and Myers, there was also Weiss and Sands.
Shit! He should have looked at Ruby’s list yesterday when he’d printed it off. He found another local property that wasn’t on Molly’s list: An abattoir in Blood Alley adjacent to Shepherd’s Bush Market called Reznia and Sons, and he knew immediately that it was Pike’s base of operations – and abattoir for the butcher.
His phone had been on charge for over half an hour, he pulled the plug, switched it on, and accessed his voicemail. He now had seven messages.
The first one was from Athena Izzard: ‘Athena, Monday three-thirty, Pike returned from Israel, gone back to flat, bye.’
Short and sweet, he thought.
‘You bastard. I’m standing outside your flat like a fucking prostitute again. Ring me when you get this.’ He couldn’t stop himself from smiling at Molly’s colourful language.
‘Athena, ten-fifteen, Monday night, Pike’s leaving the back way. Where are you, Randall? We’re following, but you need to ring me.’
‘Athena, five past midnight. We followed him to a building near Shepherd’s Bush Market. Where the fuck are you, Randall? What do you want us to do?’
‘Athena, ten to two in the fucking morning, excuse my language, but where the fuck are you?’
