Bliss used his mobile to call Detective Superintendent Fletcher. He reached her right away, and quickly explained his line of thinking.
‘Ma’am, I need you to call the base. Tell them we’re on our way, but please ensure they get RAFP officers and medics over to those containers immediately. Tell them not to wait for us. Those women may not be able to spare the time. I could be wrong again, ma’am, but right now, what do we have to lose?’
47
They were on the third container. RAFP officer Brian McDonald threw back the heavy deadbolt locking system, heard the grating clunk of the mechanism releasing. In the background behind him he heard the steady approach of sirens, and blue lights painted the sky and airfield all around. McDonald pulled out the lever handle, dug his heels into the dirt at his feet and yanked hard. The container door swung slowly open as if reluctant to give up its secrets, creaking and moaning as it finally yielded.
The strobe lighting spilled inside, but McDonald switched on his yellow safety torch and played the cone of light over the container floor. It touched upon a row of plastic buckets with sealed lids, a number of discarded empty packets and cartons strewn across the floor, empty bottles of water crushed and lying on their sides. McDonald stepped inside the container and was immediately overwhelmed by the powerful and fetid stench of body odour and waste. He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket, bundled it up and stuffed it over his nose and mouth as he advanced a couple of paces deeper into the steel box.
The torchlight touched upon an arm, the slight swell of a breast, a face turned away, hair spilling out across the floor. A second body beyond, another close by, and another…
Not a single one of them moved, each undisturbed by the rush of fresh air and the harsh intrusion of light. McDonald saw no rise and fall of chests drawing in precious oxygen. The RAF cop lowered his head and felt warm tears spill down both cheeks. The sirens grew louder, lights brighter. McDonald became aware of someone else at his shoulder.
‘Get the medics in here,’ he said, voice breaking as his heart had moments earlier. And then beneath his breath, ‘Not that it matters now.’
Two further steps inside allowed the circle of light from his torch to encompass all five bodies spread out on thin strips of cardboard which had been distributed on top of the steel panel flooring. It was as devastating a sight as he had ever witnessed. He could not imagine the terrible ordeal these young women had gone through, the agony and indignity of their final hours, and he tried to block out all thought of their awful fate. Outside, the sirens were abruptly cut off, and McDonald heard the piercing sound of brakes and tyres on the tarmac. He heard doors slamming, feet scuffing across the ground moving rapidly towards the container opening. The medics would be coming as well, he figured.
But too late.
We’re all too late.
In that terrible moment he thought he saw something move. He stared hard, but knew it had to be a trick of the light. Maybe even a trick of the mind, hope still harboured despite the evidence of his eyes. But it came again. A shadow shifting, a ripple effect of light and shade. McDonald played the core of the beam over the bodies one at a time, stalling his breath. He remained standing in place, enough presence of mind to realise he had to preserve the crime scene.
The rushing footsteps were louder in his ears. Crunching over gritty soil. Urgent in their movements. As he was about to step aside to allow the medics a clear passage, another motion snagged his attention. Still he thought it was the vague strips of flickering light from behind that were trying to make a fool of him. McDonald squinted. As he stared, open-mouthed, one of the women shifted. He almost dropped the torch, but as it wavered and the beam flashed across the expanse of the container, a second body moved, the young woman’s head raising itself from the container’s floor as if it were rising from the dead.
‘They’re alive!’ he cried, unable to move in that moment of exquisite realisation. ‘Help them! They’re alive!’
All at once the urgent rush of movement was all around him, people teeming into the container like a cyclone blowing through, brushing past McDonald, more torches playing light over five women who only moments ago had appeared dead, yet each of whom now raised a part of themselves to let others know they were still breathing. Still alive.
Somehow.
‘Dear God!’
McDonald turned to face the stranger who had joined him, who stood framed in the container’s doorway. The RAFP officer nodded maniacally, scarcely able to believe what he had seen.
‘I know,’ he whispered, throat hoarse and constricted. ‘They made it.’ He started laughing and his voice grew louder. ‘They made it! They made it!’
The newcomer began laughing as well. He reached out a hand and the two men shook, but it seemed not to be enough and the formal greeting became the embrace of strangers who together have witnessed something miraculous. Behind the man another figure, a woman who stood to one side peering in as if unable to comprehend what she was witnessing.
‘Are you McDonald?’ the man asked, pulling back now but still pumping his hand.
‘That’s me. And you are?’
‘Bliss,’ the man said. ‘DI Bliss.’
‘The one who figured all this out,’ McDonald said, as if in awe.
Bliss raised both shoulders. ‘The man who should have figured it out hours ago.’
‘To hell with that!’ McDonald said. ‘Look at them, Bliss. Just take a long, hard look at them. You saved their lives, man. You saved their bloody lives.’
As the medics set about their work, McDonald slumped back with a thump and a clatter against the side of the container, head now buried in his hands. He both laughed and sobbed at the same time, tears of joy streaming from his eyes. Beside him, Bliss and the woman fell to their knees and did the same.
48
Bliss walked into the hotel bar and immediately spotted the man he had come to see. He smiled to himself as he steered his way over to the booth in the far corner of the room. The man was sitting with his back to the wall, but had his head down as he read the restaurant menu. When Bliss reached the booth he remained standing, waiting to be noticed. He saw the man’s eyes first fall upon the shadow that had spread across the table, before flicking upwards.
‘Good evening, Inspector,’ Six said. He lay the menu flat on the table and eased back into the padded cushion behind him. ‘How on earth did you find me?’
‘I’m a detective.’
‘Of course. I suppose you would like to join me.’
‘Well, ‘like’ is too strong a word. I will join you though, just for a few minutes, hopefully.’
‘I wasn’t aware that we had anything left to discuss,’ Six said as Bliss slipped into the seat opposite.
‘I believe I told you we would. When I was finished with my case.’
‘Ah, yes. Well done on that, Bliss. Good job. Nice to be absolutely certain now that the torching was not the work of terrorists after all. The high alert surveillance of your fine city can pause for breath. You did well there. Munday was concerned, myself less so. Still, it will be nice to clear the air on that one. We can all go back to living amicably with our neighbours.’
Bliss thought about what he had come to say. ‘Sure. You know, when we still thought there was the possibility that it had been a terror attack, I said that the object of it all was to create fear, and that if fear won we were all fucked.’
Six nodded. ‘I tend to agree with you. I suppose this means we can all rest easy in our beds again.’
Bliss snorted. ‘Except that it doesn’t, of course. What does it really matter why Duncan Livingston was tortured and burned alive? Isn’t the fact that there are men capable of doing such a thing without a second thought, reason enough to fear? I said we were all fucked if fear wins, but I have a feeling that the horrible truth, the truth no one dare speak, is that fear has already won.’
‘That’s certainly one way to subjugate the masses, I suppose,’ Six commented.
‘You would know.’
The MI6 agent laughed at that.
Bliss sighed and got on with it. ‘So, cards on the table, tomorrow I am going to authorise publication of one of the two stories Ms Bannister is holding onto. The first will describe the bulk of the investigation I have just closed, albeit that one is in need of an update in order for it to reflect the closure. I don’t much like sharing such details with the media, but a promise is a promise. The second story will focus on how the SIS puts agents into cover so deep that those men and women end up getting married to non-agents and, with government-backed approval, continue lying to their spouses and using them to perpetuate the cover. Which of these two stories would you prefer to see splashed all over the Internet and in next Sunday’s newspapers, Mr Six?’
The agent regarded him with dull, lifeless eyes. The intelligence within them glistened like a cold flame.
‘You’re not bluffing, are you.’ It was not a question.
‘No, I’m not.’
‘There is a slight fault in your reasoning, Bliss. Would you like me to illuminate you?’
‘Please do. Light me up.’
‘Very well. The way I see it, whilst your second story certainly has the capacity to embarrass my service, you don’t appear to have considered the embarrassment, or indeed pain, that it will cause Mrs Curtis.’
Bliss shook his head. ‘On the contrary, I have considered it. In fact, I’ve given it an awful lot of thought. The thing is, I began this intending to protect her. Only the more I thought about it, the more I came to believe that what Emily Curtis actually deserves is the truth. Not a sugar-coated version, not the version you would like her to have, but the simple, unvarnished truth. She has been lied to for more years than I care to dwell upon, and I think it’s time that came to an end.’
Six weighed him up. ‘Is that really your decision to make, Bliss?’
‘Perhaps not. But more so than it is yours. I think Emily is strong enough to fight her way through the hurt and realise that the fraudulent side of her husband was something he had no choice but to keep from her. That what they had together was the real thing. If he truly loved her, she will know it. Deep down where it counts, she will know it. And eventually she will understand and accept it for what it was.’
‘You know that’s the exact opposite of the truth, don’t you? The reality was his job, Bliss. The marriage was the fraud.’
‘Technically you may be correct. Emotionally, I don’t agree. What’s more, I don’t think Emily would agree. It’s the emotional aspect that she will cling to.’
Six took a breath. Shook his head as he seemed to reach a decision. ‘You appear to have painted me into a corner, Bliss. I’m unused to that. Can’t say I’m at all comfortable with it.’
Bliss laughed. ‘You’ll live.’
‘I suppose. Which reminds me, you do realise we would never have harmed Mrs Curtis, right? Nor you for that matter. Now, I was bluffing.’
‘That’s what I was counting on. Though I have to say, given what you are, what you do and who you work for, I was never a hundred per cent confident.’
‘Careful. I may have to reconsider our options where you’re concerned, Bliss.’
‘I’m no danger to you, Six. Neither is Emily.’
‘How do you know she won’t make trouble for us? Once she knows the truth she might well have a thirst for our blood.’
‘Not a chance.’
‘You’re certain of that? How?’
‘Because she’s far too classy an act. A better person than you, that’s for sure. Me too, for that matter.’
Six nodded. ‘We appear to have reached an impasse.’
‘We do indeed. Ms Bannister wants to run with one of those stories. I would rather it was the first, wouldn’t you?’
‘I would. We would. So here we are then. All in all, you’ve had a good day, Bliss.’
‘Ain’t that the truth. I’ve had worse, that’s for sure. We nailed a violent and psychotic smuggler and people trafficker, and what’s more I was able to sit in a room afterwards, look him in the eye, and reveal all the reasons why he was going to rot in prison for the next thirty years. We also nailed his crew, plus another mob down in Essex, solved the ghastly murder of a young airman and a young woman trafficked here from Syria, and rescued five young women just like her… Yes, I’ll take that.’
‘And as soon as that information finds its way upstairs to us and we know for certain who was responsible for the murder of our man, I like to think we’ll step in to play our part also. We at Vauxhall Cross have our own ideas about justice.’
Bliss nodded. ‘I can live with that.’
‘You’re a formidable opponent, Bliss. Ever considered a role in the security services?’
Bliss placed a hand on his chest. ‘I can honestly say I have not.’
‘Perhaps you should. We can always use another sneaky bugger.’
Bliss stood. Stared down at the man from Six. ‘I don’t think so. Before I go, I have something to ask of you.’ He pulled a folded piece of paper from his jacket pocket, passed it across the table. ‘This has all the details you’ll need. I don’t expect you to drop everything, but I am asking you for a favour.’
‘And I should do this for you why exactly?’
‘Because you can. And because it’s a good thing – the right thing – to do.’
Without looking at it, Six pocketed the slip of notepaper. ‘I’ll think about it. Meanwhile, if you change your mind about us, you know where to find me.’
‘Not once I leave here I don’t.’
‘True. Well, you know where to find Munday, and he knows where to find me. Before you leave, I do have one last question.’
‘And that is?’
‘How did you track me down this evening?’
Bliss laughed. ‘Munday told me,’ he said as he walked away.
Chandler was waiting for him outside, leaning back against her own car, hands deep in the pockets of her jacket as the wind blew and a fine mist of rain cleaned the air throughout the city. She looked up and smiled as Bliss approached his Insignia which she had parked alongside.
‘You missed all the back-patting and revelry,’ she said.
Bliss nodded. ‘How did you know where I was?’
‘I’m a detective.’
‘Ah. Munday told you.’
Chandler shook her head. ‘You couldn’t let me have that one moment in the sun could you? You had to shoot me down in flames.’
‘Of course. It’s become my role in life. So who led the fanfare in my absence?’ he asked.
‘The Super was our homecoming Queen for the festivities. Edwards skulked in the background. Anyone would think that woman wanted us to fail. But the Super was in a jubilant mood. And your absence was noted, believe me.’
‘Did you cover for me?’
‘Of course. But this was a good win, Jimmy. As case closures go this was one of the best. Five young women abducted and removed from their homeland against their wishes will all be fit enough to return home as soon as it can be arranged. Isn’t that reason enough to celebrate?’
‘A young airman and an even younger Syrian woman didn’t make it. What about them?’
‘Both were dead before we even got involved,’ Chandler said. ‘There was nothing we could have done about that. Nothing.’
‘I suppose.’
‘You know.’
‘Yes, unfortunately I do. I’d love nothing more than to have ten minutes alone with both Drake and Lundy, though. Ten minutes of being able to rant and vent and cause them some suffering. People like those two bastards, who live off the misery of others the way they do, people for whom life is so bloody cheap, don’t deserve to be treated humanely.’
‘You don’t mean that.’
‘I bloody well do.’
‘No you don’t, boss. That’s anger talking.’
Bliss’s face creased with all the rage consuming him at that moment. ‘You’re damn right it is! Y
ou saw those poor young women in that container. You saw what was left of Duncan Livingston. And you have a pretty good idea what that poor thing in the drum must have endured. Tell me you don’t feel the same as I do.’
Chandler shook her head. ‘I can’t do that. Because I do feel the same outrage as you, the same intense hatred towards Drake and Lundy and the rest of them involved. I just choose to channel it differently.’
‘Well, you’re a better person than I am, that’s all I can say.’
She shrugged. ‘Surely that was never in doubt. Look, I do understand. I really do. I would rather people like that were not out there, but they are. And they always will be. Different people, different places. But out there. You can’t have ten minutes alone with all of them.’
He took a deep breath. Nodded and hunched back into his coat. ‘I just find it hard to deal with. The futility of it all.’
‘Stop moping about it. You should have been there with the team, Jimmy.’
‘I didn’t avoid it deliberately. There was someone I had to see. Someone I needed to talk to before they disappeared on me.’
‘This have anything to do with Emily?’
Bliss met his partner’s eyes. ‘What exactly did Munday tell you?’
‘Him?’ Chandler snorted. ‘Like pulling teeth with that man. No, I just figured that we’d wrapped up our investigation, so the only loose end I could think of that would drag you away was the Bone Woman.’
‘Not loose anymore,’ he admitted with a slight shrug. ‘Hopefully.’
‘So, was her husband murdered?’
‘He was.’
‘And do you know who was responsible?’
‘Not quite, but as good as. Close enough as makes no difference.’
‘And does this mean we have another operation on our hands?’
‘No.’ Bliss shook his head and lifted his face to the rain. ‘Let’s just say that, in the days and weeks to come, the people responsible will find justice has a longer reach than they imagined.’
‘Do I want to know more?’ Chandler asked.
If Fear Wins (DI Bliss Book 3) Page 35
