Clark still wasn’t sure about the idea—using a civilian for negotiations went against everything she had been taught, everything she had learned—but Wilson was her superior and she bowed to his better judgement.
With her peripheral vision alert to change, she kept her gun raised and stared at Kane and the doorway behind him.
Kane was clearly panicked, his body tense, and he was using all his concentration on keeping the detonator in his hand depressed.
She watched as he kept his hands in the air, his arms wavering slightly, and she saw tears in his eyes. Whatever Bernhard had used to beat Kane’s face with, he had done a good job.
Wilson said, ‘It’s all right, Kane. I know you’re not going to let go of the release.’
‘What do I do?’ Kane begged.
‘Keep your finger down. You can do it. We’ll get you out of it in a minute. Where’s—?’
David Bernhard loomed in the doorway, breaking shadows and hovering on the threshold. His greying hair was dishevelled and sweat beaded his face. He raised a gun and pointed it at the back of Kane’s head.
‘I’m here,’ he said. ‘Anyone moves, I put a hole in the back of his skull and we all go up.’
Clark tightened her grip on her handgun and kept a steady aim.
Wilson took one sideways step, closer to the front of the car he had been tucked behind. ‘All you’ll succeed in doing is blowing him and yourself up, Bernhard. Where’s the fun in that?’ He had seen similar explosives used in the past and the blast radius was confined.
David laughed, cold and harsh. ‘Not with three pounds of ball bearings encased in the C4,’ he said. ‘You know the kind of damage that can do?’
Clark cursed, quickly clocked up the number of people around her, most of them secreted behind vehicles. It really wasn’t looking like a good idea to have Margaret Bernhard in the middle of it all and she could see from Mickey Brown’s face that he felt the same way.
Wilson’s radio burst to life and a sniper said, ‘I have the shot.’
Wilson raised a hand. ‘Hold off. Let’s talk this over, David.’
‘You gonna boil the kettle?’ David asked. ‘I could murder a brew.’
‘Mate,’ Wilson said, ‘if you want to come and talk, I’ll make you a cup of tea myself.’
‘I have nothing to say to you,’ David said.
Wilson took another step. ‘I didn’t think you would.’
‘Stay where you are,’ David shouted.
Into her radio, Clark said, ‘Easy, Pat. Now’s not the time.’
Wilson ignored her, signalled down the street to Dixon. ‘I have someone you might want to talk to. Dixon, bring her up. Not too close.’
Dixon raised the police tape and wheeled Margaret inside the barrier. ‘Remember what I said,’ he told her, his voice low. ‘Tell him to keep his mouth shut or it’s going to be bad for everyone.’
Margaret settled her clutch bag in her lap, allowed Dixon to wheel her forward and, barely moving her lips, said, ‘Fuck off.’
* * *
He had no idea what to do. When David had carefully strapped the bomb to his chest, Kane hadn’t expected this. What he had expected, what he had hoped for, was that David would set a timer, leave Kane in the building, and flee the scene. But now, with his thumb on a detonator and the risk of killing other people, innocent people, Kane was beyond terrified.
A few minutes ago, inside the club, he had hoped for an end. He had nothing left to live for—Ryan had been his life for eight years and despite the doubt, despite the recent revelations, he knew that he could never love another. When the government put its backing behind civil partnerships, they had even discussed the possibility of getting married, of making it official. Before all this, Kane would have been willing to give up his life for Ryan. Because of all this, he was willing to give up his life to be with him.
When he saw Margaret being wheeled forward, he sobbed. ‘Margaret,’ he cried.
Behind him, David said, ‘Jesus, what is this? “This is Your Life”?’
‘Let’s put the guns down and chat, eh?’ Wilson said.
‘Hi, honey,’ David said. ‘I would have called but…I’ve sort of had my hands full here.’
Kane kept his eyes on Margaret, kept his shoulders taut, kept his thumb on the detonator.
Standing behind Margaret, Dixon put a firm hand on her shoulder.
‘Dixon,’ David said, smiling.
‘Tell him,’ Dixon whispered to Margaret.
‘I thought I smelt your disease,’ David continued. ‘Had any more kids since I paid off the last whore for you? Get your grubby hands off my wife.’
Wilson and Clark snapped their heads round to Dixon but Wilson just as quickly trained his gun back on David. Clark aimed firmly at Dixon.
‘Dixon?’ she questioned.
‘What? The man’s a lunatic.’
Clark nodded to Detectives Simpson and Parker. ‘I knew you were a weasel,’ she said, ‘but a rat?’
Simpson and Parker were on him instantly, restraining him, removing his weapon and radio, and they cuffed him.
David laughed. ‘Never trust a copper. They’re all bent,’ he said.
Wilson said, ‘I’ll deal with you later, Dixon. Mrs Bernhard, are you all right?’
Dixon protested his innocence but Clark said, ‘Save it for the inquest.’
Margaret nodded, said, ‘Get me closer.’
‘Stay where you are, love,’ David called to her.
‘Don’t call me love.’
‘What do you say we go on a holiday when this is over, eh? Just you and me.’
‘Somebody take me closer,’ Margaret said. ‘He’ll listen to me. I can make him see sense.’ She looked directly at Wilson. ‘Trust me. I know him better than anybody.’
An officer stepped up behind Margaret and looked to Wilson for clarification. Wilson nodded, said, ‘Not too close.’
‘Stay where you are,’ David said again.
Kane took a deep breath, said, ‘No,’ and pressed his lips together.
‘Come on, David, let’s not be foolish here,’ Wilson said.
* * *
‘I’ll blow his head off, I swear I will.’ David stepped out of the gloomy doorway and pressed his gun to Kane’s head. ‘Margaret?’ he said, half questioning, half commanding.
Margaret gripped the small bag in her lap and from her earpiece, the negotiator said, ‘Keep your voice calm, love. I’m with you. Tell him you’re here to help him sort this out.’
‘What the hell are you playing at, David?’ she said.
‘Cool it,’ the negotiator advised her. ‘Tell him it’s all right, there is a way out.’
‘I did this for us,’ David said. She could see the anger and the strain on his face.
She took a deep breath. ‘You killed my son.’ Saying it aloud, finally acknowledging the fact, created a pain in her chest. She knew it was a psychological pain rather than a physical one, but it hurt nonetheless.
‘It was an accident,’ David said.
‘He was stabbed,’ Margaret told him. ‘What kind of an accident is that?’
‘We were in Spain,’ David said. ‘They were only supposed to rough him up, not kill him. Margaret, please.’ She detected a slight crack in his voice. ‘You have to believe me. I could never do something to hurt you.’
From his position by a parked car, Wilson took another step.
‘Stay where you are,’ David said. ‘I mean it.’
‘He was my son,’ Margaret told him.
‘I love you,’ David said.
‘Don’t you dare say that. You love no one but yourself, you selfish, pigheaded, evil bastard.’
* * *
Kane felt the gun against the back of his head, felt the rivulets of sweat on his back. Margaret was uncomfortably close if the bomb on his chest was going to go off and he was convinced he couldn’t keep his finger on the detonator for much longer. He could already feel the nerves twitching in his hand,
feel the muscles cramping.
Sweat and fear stung his eyes and his legs were weak.
When David had said he loved Margaret and she retaliated with obscenities, Kane felt the pressure of the gun on his head slacken, knew that David was turning to face his wife.
‘How can you say that?’ David asked. ‘You know I love you.’
Impulse brought life to Kane’s limbs. Sensing David’s attention shifting, he turned, grabbed David’s arm, swung himself around and pulled David in tight to him, David’s back against Kane’s chest, against the bomb.
David brought the gun up, the cold muzzle hard against Kane’s jaw.
‘Go on, shoot me, you bastard,’ Kane said. ‘Blow yourself up.’
‘You want to take everyone else down with us?’
David’s body was twisted, his arm across his chest as he pressed the gun firmly into Kane’s flesh.
‘Not with you shielding the explosion,’ Kane said.
David said, ‘Those ball bearings will rip right through me and still take everyone else out.’
Wilson took another step, kept his gun aimed and ready. ‘Let him go, Kane. You don’t want to do this.’
‘He killed Ryan,’ Kane said to Margaret.
Clark said, ‘Kane.’
‘I know, love,’ Margaret said. ‘But let him go.’
‘He killed him.’
‘It’s all right, Kane. Let him go.’ Margaret rocked once in her chair as though the motion would propel her forward.
‘No,’ Kane said.
‘Go on,’ David growled. ‘Be a good little boy. Do as you’re told, son.’
‘I’m not your fucking son.’
Margaret raised an arm, her hand upturned, beseeching. ‘Let him go.’
‘I’ll kill him,’ Kane said.
Another step from Wilson. ‘Don’t do it, Kane. We’ll end this a better way.’
Kane wavered, felt the anger leave him like the tide of a burst dam. He loosened his grip on David but didn’t want to let go. There was no other way, why couldn’t they see that?
David pulled away from him and turned. He grabbed Kane’s hair, yanked his head back and jammed the gun up under his ear. The force twisted Kane’s head further.
‘Bad move…son,’ David said.
‘Easy now,’ Wilson cautioned. Clark had stepped out from behind her cover and Kane felt like every gun in the world was pointed straight at him.
‘You see what we have to deal with, honey?’ David said. He nodded at the multitude of officers. He jerked Kane’s head further still. ‘All this is his fault. If it wasn’t for him, you and I could be away somewhere.’
‘Leave Kane alone,’ Margaret said. ‘This is between us now. Let him go.’
David took a step towards her, dragging Kane with him.
With the pressure on his body and the sweat in his hands, he was sure his thumb would slip and the bomb would explode.
‘I loved you and look what happens,’ David said.
* * *
Margaret quickly realised that changing the way she spoke to him might affect how he reacted. In her ear, the negotiator had told her she needed to calm him down, needed to get him to see sense. At the very least, they needed Kane removed and dealt with by the bomb disposal team. With the threat of the bomb eliminated, they could do more to stop David.
The negotiator said, ‘Whatever it takes, we need to keep him cool.’
She could forgive herself later. ‘You love me,’ she said, smiling. ‘That’s all that matters.’
‘But love isn’t going to fix this,’ David said. He twisted harder on Kane’s head. ‘Love isn’t going to help any more.’
She felt like a fraud. ‘We can make it work.’
‘You love me, too?’ David asked.
‘Of course I do.’
‘We can go away somewhere.’
‘Anywhere you want,’ she told him.
David took another step towards her, removed the gun from Kane’s neck and flicked it in the direction of Wilson and Clark. ‘But they won’t let me.’
‘You got yourself in some trouble,’ she said. ‘That’s all. We’ll get through it.’
‘How?’ David asked.
‘We always do, don’t we? We’ll find a way. Let Kane go. Everything’s going to be just fine.’
‘No,’ David said. ‘As soon as I let him go, they’ll shoot me.’ The look on his face was one of impudence mixed with childish fear.
‘I won’t let them,’ Margaret said.
David stared at her, his eyes glassy. For a long moment, she thought he might kill Kane anyway. She smiled at him, forced her face to remain calm and her lips turned.
‘I won’t let them,’ she repeated.
What went through his mind at that moment, she had no idea. Perhaps he had been so affected by his actions that his brain no longer worked the way it should. She was convinced her words would not have been enough to make him turn himself in.
He released his hold on Kane, but kept his gun raised at his face. Kane took a step backwards, his thumb still on the detonator.
‘Come here, honey,’ Margaret said, one arm raised for an embrace.
David moved slowly towards her, his head flicking between her and Kane.
‘It’s okay,’ Margaret said. ‘We’ll get through this, you know we will.’
David smiled at her and for an instant, for just the briefest moment, she saw the old David, the man she fell in love with all those years ago, before the image was replaced by the vision of Ryan’s body in a coffin.
She kept her arm outstretched. She saw him worrying at his lower lip with his teeth, the way he used to do when he struggled with a Sudoku at the breakfast table. And then he lowered his gun, leaned into her embrace, and held her tight.
* * *
Instantly, Wilson, Clark, Brown and the rest of the officers swooped in to secure the situation. More officers stormed inside the building.
Mickey brown took Kane by the arm. ‘Easy now. This way.’
Kane heard Wilson say, ‘Drop the gun, Bernhard.’
Brown tried to lead him away from the scene but Kane refused. ‘Not until Margaret’s safe,’ he said.
‘She’s fine,’ Brown said. ‘There’s no time. We need to get that off you fast.’
David clung to Margaret as Wilson and Clark slowly approached, their guns aimed and ready to fire, just in case.
‘Drop it,’ Wilson said.
David looked up, pointed his gun at Wilson. ‘Back off, I mean it.’
With Brown’s hand covering Kane’s thumb on the detonator, acting as extra pressure in case Kane’s muscles gave out, Kane saw Margaret reach out and touch David’s cheek.
‘It’s okay, it’s okay,’ she soothed.
David kept his gun pointed at Wilson and he nuzzled Margaret’s neck. ‘I did it all for you,’ he said.
Kane pulled free of Brown’s grip, stepped forward. ‘Get away from her, you bastard. I swear I’ll blow us all up.’
Clark swung round. ‘Stand down, Kane.’
‘I’ll do it.’
‘It’s in hand,’ she said.
David twisted, wrapped an arm around Margaret’s neck and pointed the gun at her head. ‘Back off. All of you just back off.’
Margaret was expressionless.
‘Give it up, Bernhard,’ Wilson said. ‘Don’t do this.’
‘Let her go or I’ll blow us up.’
‘I’ll kill her first,’ David said.
Kane raised the release cable in front of him. ‘I’m going to let go.’
‘Don’t be so foolish, Kane,’ Wilson said.
Kane kept his eyes on Margaret. How could this have happened? What laws of chaos could allow for Margaret’s own husband to hold a gun to her head?
Perhaps unnoticed by everyone else, Kane saw Margaret slip a hand inside her clutch bag.
‘Just back off,’ David said again.
She pulled her hand back out and she was holding something.
Brown took Kane’s arm again, stared at the scene in front of them. He stepped in front of Kane. ‘She has a gun!’
Her face still stony and unreadable, Margaret aimed upwards and fired off a round.
Blood rained on her head and her lap. David jolted, wobbled. He fell face down in her knees and his body twitched. The bullet had taken his chin and exploded from the back of his head.
Wilson and Clark shifted their aim to Margaret, but she dropped the derringer and slowly raised her hands above her head.
Kane lurched forward, attempted to go to Margaret, but Brown kept a tight grip on his arm. ‘Margaret!’ he shouted.
‘Easy,’ Brown said. ‘Keep your finger on that button.’
When Margaret spoke, her voice was as calm and dead as her face. ‘Get him off me,’ she said. ‘Get him off me.’
Clark moved in, pushed David’s body to the ground and checked his pulse. She holstered her gun as Wilson looked around and surveyed the scene.
Some officers exited the Belgrave Gentleman’s Club with two burly goons. The rest of the building, they reported, was clear. Bernhard was dead—and they were going to have one hell of a report to file.
As bomb disposal officers surrounded Kane, he felt hot tears on his cheeks but hadn’t realised he’d been crying. When the men eased his thumb from the detonator and replaced it in one movement with thick black tape, Kane’s hand cramped and twitched. His legs gave way and they caught him before he fell. ‘You’re okay,’ one of the guys said. ‘Let’s get this thing off you, eh?’
Relieved of the burden, Kane finally dropped to his knees and sobbed.
Chapter 19
Belfast in September was dull but the air was calm and the sun still had some life in it. Wispy clouds scudded across the expanse above and the trees that bordered the western slope of the cemetery were tall and majestic sentinels.
The gentle breeze brought with it the smell of autumn and the pledge of an early frost. The winter would be a harsh one but for now summer was reluctant to give way.
Kane had overseen the installation of Ryan’s headstone only yesterday, the temporary wooden cross removed and the marble marker laid in its place. Today, walking between the neat rows of graves and carrying a large bouquet of flowers, he wondered about the future, a future without Ryan, a future without love. Last month’s events in London had taken their toll and haunted his dreams like they haunted his waking moments. Fearful of vendetta by David Bernhard’s associates, Interpol had placed him in the care of guards who watched him around the clock. Even now they stalked the perimeter of the cemetery. He felt like this was no longer his own life, as though he no longer had purpose and meaning. But he would learn to cope on his own.
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