Three Lives Down (A Dan Taylor thriller)

by Rachel Amphlett

  ‘Use the information wisely, Mr Taylor,’ he said. ‘There are people willing to kill to make this deal with the Russians happen.’

  Dan began to follow Heatherington, his hands in his pockets as he walked up the slope towards his car. His thoughts churned with what the man had told him, and he began to hurry, keen to get on the move and phone Melissa and tell her everything he learned, before he forgot a precious detail.

  As he unlocked his car and slipped behind the wheel, he glanced up and saw Heatherington standing next to the chain link. The taller of the two security men reached out and steadied the older man as he lifted his foot over the fence and then stood back as the politician ambled towards his car.

  Dan raised his hand in farewell, started the engine, and steered the car away from the park.

  As soon as he reached the main road, he dialled Melissa’s mobile number.

  ‘It’s me. Can you phone Mike Dawson and get me a copy of his team’s preliminary report? And then you’d better get me a meeting with Hugh Porchester as soon as possible. There’s been a development.’

  CHAPTER 32

  Ben flushed the toilet and turned to look at his face in the small mirror above the tiny bathroom’s sink.

  A bird twittered cheerfully on the gutter outside, a stark contrast to the stink pervading the air in the room.

  Ben leaned over and pushed open the window, a welcome burst of fresh air filling his nostrils.

  That was the only problem with two blokes sharing a house with no women around, he thought. None of that fancy air freshener around.

  ‘Are you done in there?’

  He turned his head at a pounding on the door.

  ‘Be right out.’

  He unlocked the door and opened it.

  Until yesterday, he would’ve been shocked at the sight of Joe’s face with its bright red pustules and grey skin.

  Until yesterday, he’d been telling himself it was just flu; it had nothing to do with the broken vial they’d discovered in the metal case.

  Until this morning, when he could no longer pass off his own symptoms as a simple virus.

  ‘Move,’ Joe growled, seconds before his eyes opened wide, and he pushed past Ben. He made it to the toilet bowl just in time, heaving on an empty stomach.

  ‘We’re screwed,’ said Ben. ‘We’re dead men.’

  He pulled the bathroom door closed and then made his way towards the kitchen and poured a glass of water. He collapsed into a chair next to a small square dining table and clutched the chipped glass in shaking hands before taking a sip.

  They’d argued last night. It had been Joe who had shot Mark just as the man had been trying to tell them something.

  At the time, they’d laughed it off, recalling the man’s look of surprise and terror as he’d realised he’d been double-crossed.

  Of course, they didn’t have to shoot him. He was in on the original deal. It just worked out that way – a conversation between Ben and Joe as they’d driven to intercept the case that led to an agreement the pay-off was better split two ways, not three.

  And now, the press had caught wind of the theft. The silenced television in the corner of the room replayed the images from the politician’s speech, while a headline screamed under the flickering image.

  Radioactive isotope stolen!

  Ben cursed under his breath and fought the urge to lower his head onto his arms and sleep at the table.

  Instead, he unfurled one hand from around the glass and reached out towards the mobile phone he’d left plugged into the wall.

  The buyer still hadn’t phoned.

  The bathroom door opened, and Joe emerged, his face paler than before.

  ‘We need to talk,’ he said, shuffling towards the table and slumping into a chair opposite. ‘We’re screwed.’

  ‘It’s radiation poisoning.’

  ‘It might not be.’

  Ben dropped the phone back onto the table and glared at the man opposite. ‘You know it is.’

  Joe jabbed his finger in the direction of the phone. ‘Call him. Find out what the fuck is going on. He was meant to phone us last night.’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Then I will.’

  Ben slapped Joe’s hand away. ‘No. You won’t. The arrangement was he’d call us, never the other way around.’

  ‘We should ask for more money. Danger money.’

  ‘You’re the one that shot Mark before he could warn us.’

  ‘Fuck off.’ Joe leaned back in his seat and crossed his arms over his chest. ‘It might not have been enough to kill us. We’ll get better.’

  ‘Hair loss, sickness, blistered skin,’ said Ben, counting off the symptoms on his fingers. ‘Which part of radiation poisoning don’t we have?’

  Joe looked away, his gaze falling on the silver-coloured box on the floor next to the back door. ‘Remember that Russian in London years ago? It’s like that, isn’t it? Fuck.’

  ‘Like I said, we’re dead men.’

  CHAPTER 33

  Dan looked up at a flurry of movement outside the door and spotted Hugh Porchester flanked by two aides, both looking harried as he entered the meeting room.

  He shook hands with Dan and then turned to Evans. ‘I understand you have an urgent situation you wish to speak to me about?’

  ‘I’ll let Taylor explain,’ said Evans. ‘Thank you for coming over at such short notice.’ He ran a hand through his thinning hair. ‘We didn’t feel this was something that could be discussed over the telephone or conveyed via email.’

  ‘Okay then, Dan. Bring me up to speed,’ said Porchester.

  ‘When we last spoke, sir, we discussed the possibility of the isotope being stolen to create a dirty bomb,’ Dan began. ‘Since then, I’ve got a copy of the preliminary findings from the warehouse where the homeless man said he’d seen two men arrive days before he got sick. I’ve also made some additional enquiries,’ he said. ‘And on the basis of that, I’m inclined to think that the isotope has been stolen for political purposes, rather than being an immediate terrorist threat.’

  ‘How close are you to finding the people that have this isotope?’ asked Porchester.

  ‘The homeless man, Wright, had the sense to note down the licence plates of one of the vehicles at the warehouse,’ said Evans. ‘The police found it written on a scrap of paper in one of his pockets.

  ‘The vehicle that was left at the warehouse had been stolen in Norwich a week before,’ said Dan. ‘And the licence plates had been changed.’

  Porchester frowned and tapped his pen on the surface of his leather-clad diary. ‘So, that’s not much use to us at all.’

  ‘True,’ said Dan, ‘but we’re hoping that the description of the second vehicle, the one that’s missing, will turn up something. We’re waiting on the results from the police investigation using the APNR system.’

  ‘Traffic cameras?’ said Porchester. ‘Are you sure that will work?’

  ‘It should do,’ said Evans. ‘The UK’s got the biggest network of CCTV cameras in Europe. And, I believe Taylor has had some success using that system in the past?’

  Dan nodded. ‘It works. It’ll take our analyst a while to programme all the potential routes they could have taken to drive south, though. Once we find them on a main road passing through a town or on a motorway, we can easily track them. Finding that first point of contact is the hardest part.’

  ‘Are we any the wiser as to who the thieves are?’

  ‘We’re not,’ said Dan. ‘But, we do know they’re going to be sick – very sick – from radiation poisoning.’

  ‘How will that help us?’

  ‘We’re hoping one of them will seek help; after what happened to that Russian guy in London a few years ago, the general public is fully aware of what radiation poisoning can do to a person.’

  ‘Have you got anything you can give me now, so that if the PM asks, I can bring him up to speed?’

  ‘Of course,’ said Dan as he reached into his pocket a
nd withdrew a thumb drive. He’d been reluctant when Mel had handed it to him that morning.

  ‘Take it,’ she’d said. ‘I’m presuming he’s going to want as few people as possible finding out about this. If you hand him a heap of photocopies, there’s more risk it’ll be seen by one of his minions and it’ll be all over the six o’clock news before you know it.’

  Dan had had to agree with her, and as he passed the USB stick to Porchester, he spotted one of the man’s two aides outside the meeting room quickly turn his head away, as if he’d been watching.

  ‘You might want to keep that to yourself, sir,’ he said and jerked his head towards the door.

  Porchester’s lips thinned. ‘That bad?’

  Dan shrugged. ‘I’m presuming this is very sensitive for the government at the moment,’ he said.

  ‘A fair point,’ agreed Porchester and slipped the thumb drive into his jacket pocket. ‘You’ll keep me fully informed of developments, of course.’

  ‘We will,’ said Evans. ‘Your office will receive a twice-daily briefing as usual, and we’ll phone directly we have anything new to report.’

  Porchester slipped his notes into his briefcase and stood. ‘Where are you staying if my office wants to get in touch with you, Taylor?’

  ‘Somewhere safe, sir.’

  Porchester raised an eyebrow.

  ‘It’s better that’s all I tell you, at the moment,’ Dan explained. ‘Until I find out who tried to kill me at the hospital and is following me.’

  ‘You’re still being followed?’ Porchester’s eyes narrowed. He turned to Evans. ‘Were you aware of this?’

  ‘Dan reported it this morning. He’s been too busy tracking down the stolen isotope to worry about it.’

  ‘It is a concern, though,’ said Porchester, rubbing his chin. ‘Are you armed?’

  Dan paused for a heartbeat. ‘No, sir. Not until after the psych evaluation next week.’

  ‘What can you do about providing him with some armed support?’ Porchester asked Evans.

  ‘No,’ said Dan, holding his hand up. ‘Don’t. They’ll slow me down. Not to mention no-one will talk to me if I’ve got a couple of thugs following me around.’

  Porchester sighed. ‘I had a feeling you’d say that.’

  ‘Sir? Is there any way you can get me to the Prime Minister?’ asked Dan. ‘No disrespect, but there are some issues I’d like to discuss with him, to see if they have any bearing on my investigation.’

  Porchester sighed. ‘Look, I’ll see what I can do,’ he said. ‘But I can’t promise anything. There are a lot of things going on behind the scenes at the moment, Taylor, which is why the PM’s entrusted this business to me.’

  ‘I understand, sir. Anything you can do is appreciated.’

  Porchester shifted his briefcase in his hand. ‘All right. I think we’re done here, gentlemen. Do make sure you keep me posted, though.’ He paused as Evans opened the door for him. ‘I think you’ll find I’m a bit more hands-on than our Prime Minister, so don’t hesitate to call my office, morning or night. I’ll make sure I’m within easy reach until this situation is resolved.’

  ‘Thank you, sir.’

  CHAPTER 34

  Hugh Porchester waited until his chauffeur-driven car had merged seamlessly into the traffic before he raised the soundproof glass between the driver and the back seat.

  Pulling his laptop out of its case, he gazed out of the window as it powered up and then reached into his pocket and withdrew the USB stick Dan Taylor had handed to him.

  He had to give the man credit where it was due. Only three weeks ago, he was rotting in a forgotten Eastern European prison. Now, he was actively pursuing a story that Porchester still couldn’t fathom how he’d stumbled across.

  Without back-up.

  Porchester’s lips thinned as he inserted the thumb drive into the laptop.

  It was also evident from his meeting with Taylor that he had no idea where his colleagues were, either. Which was disappointing, to say the least.

  Since the attempt to overthrow the Prime Minister’s cabinet had failed six weeks ago, the party was in turmoil. Deals had been struck, new allegiances made, but suspicion amongst the ranks remained.

  There were just too many damn secrets.

  He sighed and then began to scroll through the files now displayed in front of him.

  After he’d glanced at the copies of local newspaper stories, he moved onto the official project reports Dan had obtained through his contact, and finally Dan’s own report on his findings to date.

  Porchester broke out in a sweat as he began to read and raised his gaze to the glass partition. He’d been told it was soundproof, but was it really?

  He shook his head and tried to concentrate on the report.

  After another five minutes of re-reading paragraphs, trying to work out what to do, he made his decision. It was no good; he’d have to say something, even if it would anger them.

  His briefcase slid a little on the seat as the car turned left, following the convoluted one-way system that led back to his office at the House of Commons, and his right hand shot out to steady it at the same time as his left foraged in his jacket pocket for his mobile phone.

  He dialled a number from memory and didn’t bother to introduce himself when the call was answered.

  ‘I’ve just left a debriefing with Neil Evans and Dan Taylor,’ he said, barely able to keep the tremor from his voice. ‘I think they’re onto us.’

  He paused, listening to the person at the other end of the phone, and then closed his eyes before he spoke.

  ‘I have to admit I was surprised to see him earlier this week. His recovery has been remarkable.’

  He gazed out the window, the passing buildings and people a blur.

  ‘It was an accident,’ he snapped. ‘There was nothing I could do about it.’

  He clenched his left hand into a fist and beat it against the bulletproof window.

  ‘I understand,’ he said. He closed his eyes. ‘Please, that’s not necessary.’

  He listened and ran a hand over his face before opening his eyes.

  The man at the other end of the phone stopped talking, and Porchester pinched the bridge of his nose. ‘I’ll see what I can do,’ he said. ‘I just need more time.’

  Porchester ended the call and then wiped the phone record from the call history and tucked the phone back in his pocket, his hand shaking.

  He tried to keep his face impassive, aware that the driver would check the rear view mirror every few minutes to make sure his passenger was comfortable.

  Porchester knew the man on the other end of the phone had been serious.

  Only six weeks ago, Nigel Finckley, the Minister who had set out to overthrow the PM, had been found hanging in his garage.

  Porchester didn’t care what the official report said. Malikov had arranged the killing, both out of spite and as a warning to others, he was sure.

  He was also sure there would be more victims if the oligarch’s plans went wrong.

  He stared through the tinted glass, ignoring the famous landmarks the car travelled past, his mind elsewhere, trying to fathom how the hell he was going to keep Taylor on a short leash without causing suspicion.

  CHAPTER 35

  Dan elbowed his way into the conference room, kicked the door shut, and planted the two steaming mugs of coffee on the table.

  Mel glanced up as he approached and threw her mobile phone onto the desk.

  ‘Any news?’

  ‘Nothing,’ she said and then pointed at the mugs and raised an eyebrow.

  Dan pushed the one on his left towards her and then eased into one of the chairs and began flicking through the notes they’d been making.

  Sometimes, he found writing out the known facts sparked inspiration and a new angle to be investigated.

  Sometimes.

  For the past four hours, they had gone through everything, trying to work out the suspects’ route from the warehouse to wher
ever they were now hiding.

  They both looked up as the door to the conference room opened, and Neil Evans walked in.

  ‘Ah, they said I’d find you in here.’

  ‘What’s wrong?’ Dan slipped his mobile phone into his pocket and closed the file in front of him.

  ‘We just received a phone call from the police,’ said Evans. ‘Apparently there’s one very sick suspect in custody in hospital.’

  ‘One of the suspects?’ asked Mel, her eyes open wide. ‘Really?’

  Evans nodded. ‘It seems so. Handed himself in half an hour ago.’

  Dan pushed his chair back from the table and stood. ‘I’ll go.’

  ‘Wait.’ Evans held up his hand. ‘It’s not that simple.’

  Dan frowned. ‘Why?’

  ‘The man is dying, Taylor. From acute radiation poisoning.’

  ‘So, the sooner I go, the better.’ Dan moved towards the door.

  ‘There are procedures that have to be followed,’ said Evans and leaned against the door.

  ‘Such as?’

  ‘Full protection suit, and the treating doctor will only let you have ten minutes with the patient.’

  ‘Protection suit?’

  Evans nodded. ‘Apparently, he’s highly radioactive. It’s just as well he stole a car to get to the hospital, because if he’d gone near public transport or a taxi, we’d have an even bigger problem on our hands.’

  ‘We do have a bigger problem on our hands,’ said Mel, as Dan gestured to Evans to move aside.

  ‘What’s that?’

  ‘There were two suspects,’ said Dan. ‘So, where’s the other one, and what have they done with the isotope?’

  ***

  Dan waited while the specialist hospital team prepared their patient, reassuring him that the man would be conscious, but on a high amount of painkillers.

  He leaned forward on the chair in the waiting area and leaned his elbows on his knees. As he stared at the beige tiled floor, he ran through in his mind what he needed to find out; often, it was easier to start with the answers he sought rather than try to come up with a list of questions that would lead nowhere.