Assassin's Web

by Richard T. Burke

  Two lifts lay diagonally to my left. I prodded the call button, and the doors on my right parted immediately. The control panel contained buttons labelled from G up to twelve. Moments after selecting the eighth floor, the metal panels swished shut, and the lift surged upwards. I emerged onto a dark-blue carpeted corridor and made my way to the sixth door on the right.

  A narrow hallway with a bedroom on either side extended into a living area. The bedrooms were identical in size with barely enough space to walk around the double beds. I tossed my laptop bag on the bed in the room on the left. The lounge contained a pair of two-seater settees arranged in front of a large flat-screen television. A wooden writing desk butted up to the patterned wallpaper. A floor to ceiling patio window opened onto a small balcony containing three plastic chairs. Set in the adjacent wall, an archway led into a combined kitchen and dining room.

  I was looking out onto the concrete square below when a tapping sound originated from the outside corridor. It took me a while to hobble along the hall. As my hand reached for the handle, I heard voices on the other side. Unsure what to do, I undid the latch and pulled it towards me, opening a crack between door and frame.

  Nick was speaking to somebody out of my line of sight. “Well, it’s very kind of you, but we’ll be very busy over the next few days.”

  A female voice replied. “That’s a shame. If you do get time, I’d be happy to cook you both a meal, maybe save your company from paying for you to eat out.”

  “It was nice meeting you. Perhaps I’ll see you around.”

  “If there’s anything you need, just ask. I’m in number eight one three. My name’s Sarah by the way.”

  Nick didn’t offer his name in return. “Thanks, but I think we’ll be okay.”

  As he backed into the room, I glimpsed a short, dumpy looking woman with a mop of greying hair, wearing jeans and a dark-coloured top.

  “Shit, shit, shit,” he muttered, leaning back against the white painted wood of the door.

  “What was that all about?”

  “The owners told the bloody neighbour somebody was renting the flat while they were away. She must have heard me coming down the corridor and came out to talk to me. She wanted to know whether we were here on holiday. I said we were businessmen. She thought it would be a good idea to invite us over for a meal. I’m guessing you overheard the rest.”

  “What do we do now?” I asked.

  “She didn’t see you, did she?”

  I shook my head. “Not as far I can tell.”

  “In that case, we should be alright as long as it’s only your photo and not mine that appears on the news.”

  “Do you think we should ...?” I hesitated, my moral compass swinging in all directions as I considered what I was about to propose.

  “Should we what?” Nick asked impatiently.

  “Um ... I don’t know, kidnap her or something.”

  Nick rolled his eyes. “You’re suggesting we subdue her, tie her up then keep her captive for the next few days?”

  His gaze bored into me. Unable to meet his stare, I looked away.

  He ticked off the points on his fingers as he listed the failings of my poorly considered proposal. “Firstly, we have no idea whether or not she lives alone. Secondly, if she does live by herself but doesn’t turn up to work, somebody might come looking for her. Thirdly, she may have family members who would notice she was missing. Do you want me to go on?”

  “You’re the expert as you keep telling me. It was only a suggestion.”

  “Well, it was a particularly bad one,” Nick said, turning away and striding towards the balcony window. He stared out at the view below. “No, we should just sit tight.”

  Chapter 30

  I slouched with my feet on one of the sofas. Nick had left five minutes earlier to buy food. I had also asked him to purchase replacement underwear and a toothbrush. After a moment’s hesitation, he had grudgingly agreed.

  While I waited, I flicked through a file labelled Useful Things to Know, which I had picked up from the wooden desk. The first few pages dealt with the operation of various appliances including the heating system, the fridge and the cooker. Following that came a page about using the television. The last and biggest section contained details of nearby attractions and local restaurants.

  I grabbed the television remote control and followed the instructions to turn on the screen. Daytime shows had never held much interest for me. As I flicked through the channels, I remembered why. All the programmes seemed to fall into one of three categories: property, cooking or quizzes. In frustration, I pressed the off button.

  I missed having the ability to browse the Internet. With no access to either my laptop or mobile phone, I felt cut off from the world. I supposed people would be talking about me, the alleged paedophile schoolteacher. In some ways, I was glad I wouldn’t be able to read what they were writing. That didn’t stop me from wanting to keep up to speed with the investigation.

  My thoughts turned to my family. What would they be going through? I was convinced my mother and sister would have no doubts about my innocence. Despite that, the news stories would make life hell for them. I knew from bitter experience the press would give no respite. They would be camped outside my mother’s house like vultures around a corpse.

  I had been only nine years old at the time of Elena’s abduction, but I still remembered the never-ending knocks at the door and the persistent ringing of the telephone. My father disconnected the cable after a while. Desperate for pictures of the grieving family, one heartless photographer crept through the garden and held his camera to the window before my mother closed the curtains.

  Our parents kept Cathy and me off school for a fortnight afterwards. When we eventually returned, we became the centre of attention. Much of it was well-intentioned, but everybody was curious to learn what had really happened. One classmate, who had taken an instant dislike to me, suggested my parents had killed my little sister and faked her disappearance. That was the only time in my life when I ended up in a fight.

  I guessed my two nieces might experience a similar situation when they returned to school after the summer holidays. In their case, it would be worse. Cathy and I had been victims, whereas Sophia and Zoe were relatives of the alleged perpetrator. I could only imagine what they would go through.

  A rattling noise from the corridor outside the flat broke me out of my reminiscences. I glanced at my watch. It was too early for Nick to be back; less than fifteen minutes had passed since he left. The sound of a key turning in the lock reached my ears. Was it the owners returning prematurely from their trip? If so, it was imperative I didn’t let them see me. I pushed myself upright and hobbled towards the bathroom. I was no more than halfway there when the outer door swung inwards. I remained rooted to the spot.

  To my relief, I identified Nick’s outline silhouetted in the open doorway. He came inside and leaned back against the painted wood, his eyes locked on mine. I glanced at his hands. They were empty.

  “Did you forget—?”

  Nick cut me off. “I’ve got some bad news, Alex.”

  It was the first time he had called me by my first name. I shook my head in confusion. How could things get any worse? “What’s happened? Have they identified you?”

  “Look, I’m really sorry. I have to tell you this before you hear about it from some other source.”

  A swirl of competing thoughts raced through my head. Had he decided to sell me out to the police? Was he about to reveal he had accepted more money to perform the original assassination? But that made little sense; if that was the case, he would surely finish the job without trying to explain himself.

  He walked towards me and took me by the elbow. “You need to sit down.”

  I shrugged off his grip. “Just tell me.”

  He searched my face and seemed to come to a conclusion. “There’s no way to sugar coat this. Your mother’s dead.”

  A wave of dizziness swept over me and I stagge
red backwards. Nick stuck out an arm to support me.

  “The cancer?” I said, the words barely escaping my lips. It wasn’t as if we were unprepared; the family had all been expecting it to happen sooner or later. I was aware the condition of sufferers could deteriorate rapidly and with little warning. It still came as a complete shock, rocking me to the core of my being. My one abiding thought was that she had died before I earned the chance to clear my name. Perhaps the recent media reports about my alleged crime had even been a contributory factor.

  Nick shook his head, his voice barely more than a whisper. “I’m afraid it’s worse than that. Somebody murdered her.”

  The words entered my brain, but at first, they didn’t register. When I finally processed what he had said, it slammed through my chest like a shotgun blast. I sank to my knees and leaned forward until my forehead rested against the rough weave of the carpet. I brought my elbows up, covering my ears and locking my fingers behind my head. A deep well of anguish erupted in my throat and came out as a roar of pain.

  “No!”

  I inhaled and screamed again. “No! No! No!”

  Nick’s hand touched my back. “I’m sorry, Alex. I wish there was something I could do, but you’ve got to keep the noise down. The neighbours will wonder what’s going on.”

  My shoulders rose and fell, choking sobs wracking my body. My mind splintered into a thousand fragments as all rational thought deserted me, every part of my consciousness mired in a deep pit of despair.

  Eventually—time seemed to stand still, so I had no idea how long it took—I recovered sufficiently to regain a modicum of control. A sudden, terrible dread slammed into my brain.

  I raised my head. Nick paced backwards and forwards a few feet away. He stopped as he spotted my movement.

  “What about my sister and her two girls?”

  Nick stared at me in confusion. “What about them? Why are you asking?”

  “Cathy and my brother-in-law separated a while back. She and the kids live with my mother. They moved in about six months ago.”

  “The news I saw didn’t mention anybody else.”

  “Tell me what you know.”

  “Don’t you want to sit down first?”

  I nodded. Nick helped me to my feet. Wrapping my arm around his shoulder, he led me to the sofa. I barely retained control of my limbs; every bone in my body seemed to have turned to rubber. He lowered me gently onto the cushions.

  I leaned forward, my legs jiggling with unsuppressed tension. I hunched my shoulders and thrust my trembling hands under my armpits. Nick sank into the adjacent settee. He took a deep breath as he composed his thoughts.

  “I was heading through the shopping centre towards the supermarket when I passed an electrical goods shop. There was a television in the window, one of those huge flat-screen models. It was showing a twenty-four-hour news channel. If it wasn’t for the subtitles, I would have missed it. It said something like fugitive’s mother found dead. I went inside, but the sound was muted.”

  “How did you find out what happened, then?” I asked

  Nick pulled a phone from the pocket of his hoodie. “While I was there, I bought another two mobile phones. They were the cheapest in the shop, but it still set me back over a hundred and twenty quid for the pair. I used one to log on to the Internet. I accessed the BBC news website. The article reported that she was murdered.”

  “How?”

  A worried expression flickered in Nick’s eyes. “Look, are you sure you want to hear this now?”

  “How?” I repeated, louder this time.

  “They said a man strangled her.”

  Nick’s voice sounded muffled as if he was speaking down a long tunnel. The pressure seemed to build inside my skull. I buried my face in my hands and listened to the sound of my breathing as the air entered my lungs in ragged gasps. My pulse thundered in my ears. Several seconds of silence passed.

  “Do they have a suspect?” I asked eventually, looking up.

  Nick gave an almost imperceptible shake of the head.

  Our eyes met as I locked my gaze onto his. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  He turned away and swallowed hard. I had already guessed the answer before he spoke, but the confirmation still came as another blow.

  “They’re saying it was you.”

  “Me?” I experienced a strong sense of dissociation as if I was standing at a distance, watching somebody else speak through my mouth.

  Nick nodded. “One of the neighbours reported hearing an argument. The police are speculating that you visited your mother asking for money, and she tried to persuade you to turn yourself in. A witness saw a figure running away afterwards. He identified the man as you.”

  “Who do you think really did it?”

  He hesitated before replying. “If I were to hazard a guess, I’d say the same people who have been after you from the start are trying to get you out in the open.”

  “You’re saying it’s my fault?”

  “No, of course not.”

  “But if I had handed myself in to the police at the beginning, my mother would still be alive.”

  “Maybe, but you’d almost certainly be dead.”

  “Well that makes me feel a whole lot better,” I said. “You’re implying I’ve traded my mother’s life for my own.”

  “Not at all. You’ve been placed in an impossible situation, and there was no way you could possibly know in advance how far they would be prepared to go.”

  Once again, I lowered my head into my hands. My brain spun off into a multitude of different directions as I tried to make sense of everything. A sudden idea rose from the conflicting emotions. Over the next few seconds, my resolve hardened.

  “I want to talk to her,” I said. “I need to call my sister.”

  Chapter 31

  Nick studied me from the adjacent sofa. “That’s not a good idea.”

  “I don’t care. I need to know she’s okay.”

  “You must realise the police will be monitoring her phone. If you call her, you’ll be telling them exactly where you are.”

  I folded my arms. “If you won’t help, I’ll do it by myself. Give me back the mobile battery you took from me.”

  Nick hauled himself out of the chair and stood in front of me. “Look, I get that you’re upset. Who wouldn’t be? But throwing away everything we’ve worked for over the last few days, it’s just ... I don’t know ... a waste.”

  A dark rage flooded my veins. I levered myself upright and shoved him in the chest. “You say it’s a waste, but what happens when the job finishes?” I pushed him again. “You leave me alone and collect the money, that’s what. I’m stuck in the same mess I was in at the start, but now my mother is dead, murdered by the animals who are trying to kill me. I need confirmation my sister is unharmed. If you don’t agree to help me, I’ll walk out of the door right this minute, and your precious contract will be worth nothing.”

  Nick held up his hands in surrender. “Alright, I’ll do it, but let me do some thinking first.”

  He turned his back on me and paced backwards and forwards. After a while, he unlocked the window and moved out onto the balcony. When I followed him outside, he was leaning on the brickwork, staring out vacantly at the concrete landscape below.

  The raw pain of my loss still gnawed at my chest, but by now, I had calmed down a little. I adopted the same position as Nick. He didn’t acknowledge my presence, lost in his own thoughts.

  “Have you come up with anything?” I asked.

  Nick turned his head to study me. “First of all, do you actually have to speak to her? What if you could find out whether she was okay without talking to her?”

  A frown creased my forehead. “How would we do that? Anyway, I need to have a conversation with her.”

  “I thought you might say that. Do you have her number?”

  “It’s on my mobile but I’m not sure I can remember it. I do know the landline number though. That one’s embedd
ed in my memory after living there for over twenty years.”

  Nick scratched his head. “The house will be a crime scene, so it’s fairly unlikely she’s still there. We can’t get the details off your phone without turning it on. If they’ve set up a trace, they’ll know the moment we reconnect the battery.”

  “What do you propose we do?”

  “That’s a good question. One thing’s for sure, we don’t want to power it up here. As soon as the police detect its presence on a cellular network, they’ll be able to track it to a rough location. They can use the signal strength from the cell towers to narrow the search area. That means we’ll have to drive somewhere else. And you’re aware you won’t have long: one or two minutes at most. Is it worth it?”

  Despite my normally laid-back nature, I was not about to be dissuaded. “I think it is, and that’s all that matters. If you want your money, you’re going to help me.”

  Nick sighed in exasperation. “Look, I said I would. I’m just trying to work out how to do it without getting caught. What we need is a diversion: something to send them looking in the wrong direction.”

  Several moments of silence passed. Suddenly, he stiffened. He slapped the metal bar running along the top of the wall with the palm of his hand. “I’ve got an idea.”

  “Go on then. Spit it out.”

  “Put your hoodie on. I’ll tell you on the way.”

  “Where are we going?” I asked.

  “You’ll have to be patient,” he said, the wicked grin returning. “And it’ll entail more travelling like a dog.”

  I groaned. “Not the boot again?”

  “Exactly,” he replied as he stepped back into the lounge. “This time, I expect you to be pleased to see me when I let you out. Where’s your phone?”

  “In the laptop bag.”

  “Go and fetch it. We’re leaving right now.”