by Clare Revell
“And the boxers,” Joey ordered.
Sighing, David removed them.
Joey shoved the clothes into a carrier bag and dumped them out of the window, along with David’s phone, watch and wallet. Then he handed over a track suit. “Put this on.”
As David complied, thoughts of Eden and Marc filled his mind. Where were they? Were they alive?
“I trusted you,” Joey muttered. “And you…” He broke off, shaking his head.
“Is it because of Eden?”
Joey shoved the gun into his side. “I was told to bring you in, not make small talk or explain things. Granger will do all the explaining you’re gonna get when we arrive.”
David sat praying silently, as they drove, hoping someone would notice the absent flowers or trace his phone or the tracker in his watch the latter two of which were now decorating a roadside. He drew in a deep breath as the car pulled up outside a pub on the other side of town.
Joey narrowed his eyes. “We’re going to walk through the bar. Don’t try and run or shout or ask for help, or I will shoot you. Unlike you, I won’t hesitate.”
David nodded and got out of the car. With Joey close by his side, he headed into the busy pub and passed the bar to the back hall.
“Upstairs,” Joey ordered.
David nodded and took the stairs two at a time, wanting to get this over with so he could find out where Eden was. He followed Joey into the lounge.
Granger looked up as they came in. His dark eyes narrowed and anger exuded from him. “Sit.”
David sat on the chair indicated.
Granger paced around the room. His dark gaze bored into David, making him shudder. Granger tilted his head. “We have a leak.”
David swallowed hard. “A leak? Maybe you should call a plumber.”
Granger hit him, hard and fast, sending David’s head flying to one side. He tumbled off the chair landing hard on the floor. Granger yanked him upright and sat him back down. He shoved his face into David’s. “Don’t you try to get clever with me, sonny. Someone has been feeding information to the cops, and they are all over us.”
“Is that why I’m here?”
“It’s why Joey made you strip. Didn’t want you wearing a wire I hadn’t given you.”
“How do you know it’s not Joey?” David tried placating him. “I mean, we only have his say-so that he killed all those blokes…”
“Because I know who it is!” Granger roared. “I suspected for a while and today he slipped up.” He pulled a tape recorder from his jacket pocket and hit play.
“Hello, this is DS David Painter, Thames Valley CID.”
David shuddered. He’d slipped up all right. Well and truly slipped up.
Granger stared at him. “So, Detective Sergeant David Painter of Thames Valley CID, what do you have to say for yourself now?”
David started to get up.
Joey pushed him down and held him firmly.
“Where’s Eden?” David asked.
“Alive—for now.”
“I want to see her,” David said. “You can do what you want to me, but if you’ve hurt a single hair on her head, I’ll—”
Granger laughed. “You’ll what? Kill me? Your affection for her is touching and more than a little nauseating.” He looked at Joey. “Teach him what happens to people who disobey and betray me. Just don’t mark his face. I have another job for him to do.”
Joey grinned. “It’ll be a pleasure.” He tied David’s hands behind the back of chair. Then he took off his jacket and rolled up his shirt sleeves. “I promise, this will hurt you far more than it will me.”
****
Eden sat on the floor in a room devoid of furniture. It didn’t even have a carpet. She had no idea where Marc was. When Adam had stopped at a traffic light, two men had knocked him out and thrown him on the roadside before they jumped in. They’d held a gun on her and brought her here.
The only light in the room came from the streetlight outside. Her watch said half past nine.
She hugged her arms around her knees, tears she refused to let fall, burning her eyes. She was stronger than this; she had to be.
But she was scared and so many telegram prayers had gone up, asking for deliverance, for Marc to be safe, for David to come and find her. But it had been over four hours, and she was still here. Still alone. She’d failed in her duty of care, in the promise she’d made to Hanna, and in some respects to David.
The door opened. The light flipped on and Eden blinked hard. Not purely because the room flooded with bright light, but because the man she was thinking about was standing right there. “David?” She got up and ran to him.
David hugged her briefly, his body stiff. His face was wracked with pain, even though there were no visible signs of bruising. Had he been in a fight?
“What happened?”
He shook his head. “Did they hurt you?”
“I’m fine, but I don’t know where Marc is. They took him and I couldn’t stop them. I’m sorry.” She reached up and touched his face.
David flinched and moved her hand away. “Don’t. I have to—”
Eden caught a glimpse of the knife in his hand. “What’s that for?” She backed away. Panic filled every part of her.
David followed her. “I have no choice.”
Her back hit the wall. “Yes, you do. There’s always a choice.”
David leaned against her, pushing her against the wall, his knife at her throat. He held her gaze. Trust me he mouthed. “You see, they know I’m a cop and this is the only way they’ll let me live. It’s you or me.”
“David, please, don’t do this,” she begged. She didn’t understand. How could she trust him, if he was going to kill her? Her eyes flicked past him to the figure standing in the doorway watching them.
The knife edge trailed down her body to her side. “If you don’t struggle, it’ll be over quicker,” he told her. David leaned in, his breath warm on her neck, his lips brushing hers in one last desperate kiss. Then he leaned in close, his lips against her ear. “Make this look good, my love,” he whispered. “I’ll come back for you, I promise.”
Eden struggled. “Please…”
David shoved the knife against her side. “Forgive me.”
Trust him. Make this look good. Trust...
Eden stiffened, crying out as she realized David had slid the blade between her arm and her side. She slumped against him, closing her eyes.
David laid her down on the floor, wiping the blade on his dark tracksuit trousers. He leaned over her, kissing her gently. “I’m sorry.”
Eden didn’t move.
“Now that wasn’t so hard, was it?” said the voice from the doorway. “Let’s go.”
“What about the baby?” David asked.
“Don’t worry about the child. This pub is going to burn down in a little while. It’ll hide the bodies. I can’t have any loose ends.”
The footsteps left and a key turned in the lock.
Eden lay still, until the steps had retreated and she could no longer hear them. She rolled over, her hand going to her side. Blood came away on her fingers, but it wasn’t hers, as the knife hadn’t pierced her at all.
It must be David’s blood. He was pretty badly hurt after all.
She pushed to her feet and tried the door, but it was locked. And the windows were barred. There was no way out, even if she could break the glass. She just had to hope they were lying about burning the pub, and if they weren’t, that David would be back for her first.
****
David sat in the car, the package in his hand. Guilt and hatred filled him. He hated himself for what he’d done to Eden. Even though he hadn’t hurt her, he’d scared her; made it look as if he’d killed her. Was that as bad? It definitely counted as lying, but would it count as anything else? He honestly didn’t know. He’d prayed constantly, while he was with Eden and after, and he knew God had forgiven him. But whether Eden would, or whether he could forgive himself, was a
nother story altogether.
He glanced at Granger. “Is this really necessary?”
“How else am I meant to prove your loyalty?”
“I killed Eden. Isn’t that enough?” David asked. Bile rose in his throat as he spoke. It was all he could do not to throw up where he sat.
“Not by a long chalk. This makes you beholden to me. Once this is done, you call it in. Vilius and his men go down. You go back to the cop shop a hero. And, more importantly, you stay on my payroll.”
“What?” David sat up straight in the car seat, not wanting to believe what he’d heard.
“My own tame cop.” Granger’s smirk sickened him. “We both get what we want. Because betrayal goes both ways. You’re a bent copper. You deal drugs. How will that go down with your superiors? Never mind the fact you just killed someone.”
He swallowed hard. “What about the baby?”
“You get him back when this is done,” Granger laughed. “Not even Joey could bring himself to hurt a baby.”
“And the pub?” he pushed, needing to know how much time he had.
“It will burn after midnight. Someone else who doesn’t pay his dues is getting what he deserves, but I’m not going to take out too many civilians in one night. Now do this and remember I’m watching you.”
David grabbed the briefcase by his feet with his spare hand and got out of the car, almost on autopilot. His body was responding to what Granger wanted, but his mind was elsewhere. He prayed constantly for Eden. No one knew she was in the pub, never mind alive, and she’d been locked in. She wouldn’t stand a chance of getting out.
His hand tightened on the briefcase. The handle was cold, the trigger switch under his thumb even colder. Once he pressed it, they’d have half an hour. Then another fiery explosion would light the town sky. Granger was taking out those who opposed him by force tonight. And making David do it.
Even if his superiors did forgive him, and that was debatable, his own conscience never would.
Granger caught his hand, and pressed the trigger button himself. “Just in case you bottle it. Again. The timer starts now. ”
David didn’t look back as he walked slowly into the casino. He glanced around, hoping to see someone he knew, to warn them, but there was no one. He headed to the bar. “I’m looking for Bryan.”
The barman nodded to a far table. “Over there.”
“Thanks.” David set the briefcase down on the floor and headed across the room. The noise level wasn’t too bad, despite the fact the tables were heaving with cards and dice games. There must have been over seven hundred people in there.
A security man blocked his path. “That’s far enough, mate.”
“I have a package for Bryan.” David held it up. “Granger sent me.”
“And you are?”
“David.” He bounced from one foot to the other. He didn’t have time for this. Not if he was going to get a warning out.
“Let him through.” Bryan, a stocky built man with thinning black hair, sat at the table. His tiny eyes glared at David. “Sit.”
David sat, aware of the four men around the table, and a further four security men in black suits, with radios, watching him like hawks. Without preamble, he put the package on the table. “Granger sent this.”
“And this is?” Bryan asked.
“Payment in full.”
One of the men picked it up and flicked through it. He nodded, putting it back down.
“Very good,” Bryan said.
David glanced around nervously. The briefcase was still there. A young croupier leaned against the bar, her legs almost touching it.
“Was there something else?”
“I need a receipt.” David said, thinking quickly.
“You are kidding me. Granger owes me and he wants a receipt?” Bryan clicked his fingers. “Pen and paper.”
“May I?” David asked.
Bryan laughed. “Oh, this gets better. Now you want to write the receipt.”
David just nodded. Time was ticking away. The longer he sat here, the less time there was. The croupier was flirting with the barman, laughing and joking. He leaned across the bar, his fingers pushing back a loose strand of hair. Neither of them would survive.
“Be my guest. Granger said you were insane.”
David wrote quickly. Bomb in case by bar. Evac by rear entrance quickly. Call it in. 20 mins left on timer.
Bryan read the paper. “Are you for real?”
“Just sign the receipt,” David muttered.
Bryan scrawled on a new piece of paper and handed it over.
David took it and stood. “Thanks.” He hurried to the door, hearing Bryan barking orders. He left the building and got into the car. “It’s done.”
“Good.” Granger moved quickly.
There was a flash of metal, then a sharp pain in his left side. David gasped, in shock and pain. Then he fell backwards as Granger shoved him from the car. David landed hard on the road, as the car drove off, leaving him.
He looked down at his side and tugged the knife from where it lay buried within him. An involuntary cry of agony escaped him. He clutched his side and tried to get to his feet. He couldn’t do it. Darkness encroached, but he didn’t have time to give into it.
People spilled onto the road around him. “Are you all right, mate?”
David looked up at the owner of the voice. “Do you have a phone?”
“No, they evacuated the casino and made us leave everything behind.”
He pushed to his hands and knees. “Take me to—” His voice broke in a cry of acute pain.
“I don’t think you should be moving, mate.”
“I need a phone.”
“I have one.” A second voice spoke. “Sit down and wait for the ambulance.”
The woman pressed a phone into his hand. “Use mine.”
“Thanks.” David dialed as the woman sat him on the edge of the pavement.
“Designation,” came the instant response.
“Six-nine-zero. There’s a bomb in the casino on South Street. Send the bomb squad ASAP. About fifteen minutes to detonation.” He shook his head, desperate to remain conscious, despite his body’s reluctance. Please, Lord, just long enough to find Eden and get her to safety.
“Who are you, caller?”
“DS Painter.” He hung up and looked at the woman, handing back the phone. It was the croupier from the bar. At least she got out safely. “Do you have a car I can borrow?”
“Yes, but you need to wait for help. They’ll be here soon.”
“I’m a police officer. You’ll get the car back. There’s a woman in danger and I have to go to her.”
“You can’t drive it like that.”
“Forget it.” David forced himself to his feet. He’d have to track down a local patrol car, or call a taxi or…
He gasped, clutching his side, as he took two faltering steps.
“Wait. I’ll take you.” Another woman spoke. “My car’s here.”
“Thanks.” David staggered over to it, dropping into the front seat in relief.
“Where to?”
“The Brown Bear. It’s a pub on—”
“I know it.” The woman started the car. “I’m Mary, by the way.”
“DS Painter.” He pressed his hand against his side, blood oozing through his fingers.
“Wouldn’t a hospital be better?”
“The pub, please. And can I use your phone?”
Mary handed it over and started driving.
“Thanks.” David looked at it. He couldn’t ring his partner. The deal was she’d be contacted by someone else. He’d have to call Nate and give him the code red signal. He dialed quickly.
“Holmes.”
“Nate, its Detective Sgt. David Painter. I need your help—code words are November Charlie. They’ve taken Eden.”
“Detective Sergeant David Painter?” Nate queried.
“Nate, I don’t have time to explain. Just write this down. I
’m undercover. Have been for over a year. They’ve got Eden and Marc and probably Adam, too.” He caught his breath, hissing in pain as the car jolted over a speed bump.
“Sorry,” Mary apologized.
“Who’s taken Eden?” Nate asked, his tone professional and urgent.
“Not over the phone. I need you to call DS Sara Raines from the Fleet Street nick. Her mobile number is 07762 256092. When she answers the phone, give her my name, and the same code red I gave you. She’ll explain. Have her meet you at the Brown Bear pub, but bring back up, and the fire brigade.”
David cut off the call and groaned as the car hit a pot hole. He was going to bleed out if he didn’t do something. He dropped the phone onto the dashboard. “Do you have a first aid kit?”
“In the glove box. Do you want me to stop?”
“No time. Just drive.” David leaned forwards and grabbed the first aid kit. He pulled out a dressing and covered the wound. He sucked in several deep breaths, praying hard. Not for him, he didn’t matter, but for Eden and Marc.
The car halted outside the pub.
David looked at the building in despair.
It was in flames.
13
Eden stood at the window, tugging at the bars. Part of her knew it was a futile gesture, but she had to try. Smoke filtered through the gap at the bottom of the door, despite the fact she’d put her jacket there. She could see people below her on the pavement. She pounded on the glass, trying to get their attention, but no one could hear her over the roaring and exploding beneath her.
Her pounding grew more desperate, the smoke making her eyes sting and water. The smoke made her cough, irritating her lungs which still hadn’t recovered. “Please, help me!”
Sirens wailed on the street below her. Her knees buckled and she slid to the floor, gasping for breath. The wooden floorboards were hot and starting to buckle. Smoke rose between the cracks.
The door burst open, smoke flooding in. Was there someone there?
“Eden?”
She pushed to her knees, coughing hard. Was that David? Had he come back for her? “Here…” she managed.
David moved to her side, helping her to her feet. “We need to get out of here.” His arm went around her, taking her weight, even as he hissed in pain.
