“No, I’ll just add it to the watch list. One more won’t be noticed. What with the police, MI6, Immigration, Special Branch, us and God knows who else tracking phones, the phone company routinely does it. Trust me, no one will take a second look.”
“Do it, please?”
She left and he made a phone call. He then went in search of Stiles and his luggage that had accompanied them to Crete in their mission to rescue Jackie. He soon ascertained that the Diplomatic box, with their flake jackets and guns, was still on the premises. He left his office and made his way to the storage area in the basement.
There was an air of the scholarly to the storage area. Miss Pembury approached him as he entered. She was part of the fixtures and fitting of Thames House. The Service, of course, now had all its material digitalised and ready at the push of a button, but she still kept “useful stuff” as she called it. Most of the papers had been moved to a storage facility, but somehow she had retained most of the interesting historical artefacts. Her pride and joy were notes from Winston Churchill, written at the height of the Second World, often completed late at night after imbibing. They were a National Treasure.
“Do you still have the box I took to Crete?”
“I do. I haven’t got round to emptying it or returning the bits and bobs. It’s the paperwork. If I leave it long enough someone usually turns up looking for the stuff. I say, send me a copy of the paperwork and hey presto it is all done for me.”
“Good plan, can I have a look?”
She walked him through room after room, mostly full of old boxes and accumulated paraphernalia that had built up over the years.” I couldn’t interest you in a few World War gas masks could I? All the rage you know.” She pointed to a pile of boxes in one corner. Eventually she located the box.
He lifted the lid and began to rummage. “You won’t take anything without signing for it?”
“I am the Deputy Head Ms Pembury, you can trust me to follow procedure,” he smiled.
“Let me know when you are done,” she wondered off leaving him to it. He soon located the gun and ammunition. Checking she was not looking he shoved the gun in his belt at the back and headed for the exit.
“Did you find what you wanted?” she called distractedly, as he left.
When he returned to his office Harriet was waiting for him, “you have the phone details?”
She pushed the phone’s locations across to him. “The pattern is irregular but, in general, this seems to be where the user often spends the night.” She pointed to the GPS coordinates she had written on the first sheet of paper.
“Bring it up on a map?”
She tapped on her tablet and the street view came up. It was semi-rural. He scrolled around. There were not many houses compared to an inner-city location. “Thank you, I’ll take it from here.”
Now it would be elbow grease and luck. He began his search of the voting register and land registry. It was slow, he began to develop a headache as he looked intently at the results, fearful that he would miss something. It dragged into hours. He began to fear that he had missed something and would have to go through the data again, trying vehicle registrations or traffic prosecutions.
Then it just hit him. One name stood out. It was a name he knew. He had the Driver, now he would have revenge for his wife. He left Thames House, taking the gun and knowing he was about to become a killer.
Chapter 37
All good things come to he who waits and Hambros Benedict had waited and it had paid off. He walked slowly along the Monaco quayside, it was truly a slow and painful process. He wanted to savour the experience ahead of him and had not taken the pain relieving cocktail of drugs that morning.
The colours of the World seemed to be more vibrant and alive this day. The blue of the sky was bluer. The yellow of the sun was bright and intense. The air was clearer and fresher. His life experience was magnified despite the pain he felt in his failing body. He was alive at this moment in time, as he faced his final moments on this Planet.
Benedict paused to rest. His progress was slow, hampered by his lack of strength. As he caught his breath, he looked up towards the heavens. A golden shaft of sunlight shone through the white wispy clouds and illuminated the water in the harbours, a flash of gold in the green and blue. He looked at the clouds and in their formation, he clearly saw his Mimi, arms outstretched, reaching down to him, beckoning for him to join her. He caught his breath and with renewed energy, continued his journey to the Lady Heloise.
He had watched yesterday as the fleet of cars arrived at the yacht, The Bentley and the two Mercedes had driven to the quay. He watched as Yerik stepped from his car and he waited to see who was among the entourage in the two Mercedes. He was rewarded, as from the cars randyjim6552 and tomcock85, his wife’s murderers, stepped into his view. They all boarded the boat.
For a brief moment he panicked, fearing that the Lady Heloise would put to sea, but she remained and was still moored as he walked along the jetty.
He felt destiny was on his side, that the gods favoured him. Little things had convinced him that he was about to take his revenge. The entrance to the quayside had no security to stop anyone walking along, boarding the million dollar yachts and just helping themselves to the contents. Some maintained a resident crew while the owners were absent. Others were devoid of human activity in the winter.
The garbage was collected regularly, maintenance workers came and went on a daily basis, He had merely walked up to the gates some hour earlier and had been assisted through by a kind hearted maintenance worker, his tailored clothes being sufficient to convince all that he was the sort of man who had a boat in the marina.
Things further played into his hands in the security of the Lady Heloise herself. He had noted that the crew all sat down to eat lunch at around one o’clock each day, leaving one member to guard the deck. He would, however, take the opportunity to sneak off and meet with his girlfriend. She was crew on another vessel, moored further along the quay, so the Lady Heloise was unguarded for the lunch period.
He finally finished his slow walk along the jetty, making sure to remain hidden from view, he looked at his watch. Soon the deck would be deserted and he could board. Time seemed to pause as he waited. His heart rate increased with the mix of fear and elation he was feeling. He took deep breaths and fought the pain that was steadily increasing in his cancer riddled body. He tried to focus elsewhere and push the pain to the back of his mind. He thought of Mimi and the terrible end she had been subjected to by the murderous, unfeeling bastards who were on the boat just metres from him. He thought of his conversation with Tim. He was saddened that he would never know if the cause of his grief, Jimmy, would receive the death sentence promised to him by the man from MI5. The wave of pain subsided and was replaced by determination as he watched the deckhand disappear for his lunchtime rendezvous with his girlfriend.
Hambros Benedict stepped forward and walked slowly up the gangway. He stood on deck for a moment getting his bearings and listening. He could hear the chatter of the crew faintly talking over lunch and nothing else. He was mindful that he couldn’t just wander around blindly looking for his two murderers. He had to make a choice, up or down. He went down the steps to the stateroom.
Fate again intervened and he was rewarded by the sight of one of his wife’s assassins entering the panelled door into the room. A second earlier and he would have walked into him face to face. A second later and he would have missed seeing his back as he entered the room.
He pushed the door and entered. He was rewarded to see randyjim6552 and tomcock85 and the rest of Yerik’s goons gathered together, helping themselves to a buffet lunch laid out on in the centre of the opulent and ornate room. He was disappointed that Yerik was not in the room, but felt in his heart that all aboard the yacht would soon be dead.
The speed of reaction by the goons surprised Benedict. He had barely stepped through the door before he was challenged.
“Who, the fuck ar
e you?” said tomcock85.
It was clear that the ravages of his cancer had caused Benedict’s appearance to change dramatically. His skin, like ageing parchment, was stretched over his emaciated frame. His eyes were recessed deep in their sockets and his parlour was the grey of death. “Don’t you know me?”
Gun now in hand, tomcock85 peered more closely at him, as he stood calmly in the doorway. Benedict’s fear and uncertainty had passed, his pain was gone with the elation at confronting the scum who had taken his beautiful Mimi from him.
“I do know you,” he turned to randyjim6552, “it’s the sad cunt whose wife we fucked to death.”
“What are you going to do Granddad? Throw your false teeth at us?” he mocked.
“I am going to kill you.”
“No you aren’t,” laughed randyjim6552 and fired his gun. The bullet hit Benedict cleanly between the eyes and he fell to the floor, spun onto his right side by the force of the impact, trapping his right hand underneath his body.
“Don’t let him bleed on the fucking floor, the boss will go mental,” they joked as tomcock85 approached the body.
He looked down at the old man laying at his feet and spat. He hooked his foot under the body and rolled it over to ensure that he was dead. It was the last thing he did on this earth.
As the body was rolled, Benedict’s grip was released on the bulb connected to the suicide vest. The blast was spectacular. The band of security men were vaporised instantly. The whole top of the Lady Heloise was blown to a million pieces and the blast spread gas and flame throughout the whole vessel. The shock wave was so intense it caused the boat to jump from the water. The explosion was so loud it could be heard two miles away. The plume of smoke could be seen for five. As the effects of the blast radiated out from the yacht, glass was shattered in the buildings and boats in the immediate vicinity.
Then calm and silence, deadly silence. The beam of sunlight shone down on the burning wreck, as if putting it in a golden spotlight and Mimi’s cloud arms seemed to reach down from the sky and reclaim his soul.
The bomb was later identified as of ISIS manufacture and the Jihadis, not ones to miss out on publicity, claimed responsibility for the bombing. It was added to their tally of atrocities on the Cote D’Azure that year.
Chapter 38
Tim sat at his dining room table, around him he had gathered together the things that he held dear. Morning broke and the Sun was just rising, as he opened his Wedding album. It sent shafts of light streaming through the gap in the curtains drawn across the French windows.
He had not been able to bring himself to look at it before. He slowly turned the pages. The wounds were still raw in his heart, but the memory of their Day was already beginning to fade. Almost with new eyes, he viewed their brief life together. There was Jackie, leaving her Dad’s house with Daniel, her son. He looked at the small boy dressed in his wedding suit, posing and smiling. He had developed a real love and affection for the little chap and it was reciprocated then. Tim had vowed to bring her back to him safe and well.
He had failed, Daniel’s love and respect had turned to loathing and hate. When he told him that his Mum had died, the little boy had lost his World. His words now rang in Tim’s head once again. “I hate you. You promised. You killed my Mummy.” He now refused to see Tim and lived with his Grandparents.
Tim turned the page, there was a picture of Jackie steping into the wedding car. She was so beautiful in her wedding gown. She smiled the tender smile he loved. Her hand was posed on the open door and he could clearly see the engagement ring they had chosen together on her finger. He recalled the moment she had said “I will,” and he had placed the wedding ring on it.
He smiled through the tears as he recalled their Honeymoon on the Nile. The tiny shower he could hardly fit into on the boat, the chaotic hot air balloon ride and crashing in a cane field. He felt her body close to him and the comfort of her kisses. Now gone, taken from him by the Driver.
Another page another photograph, there were his two ushers, Stiles and he lined up in their top hats and tails as though dancing. They all had big smiles and were doing jazz hands. He looked closely at Jeff Stile’s face. He needed to remember him like that. He wanted rid of the final image that burned in his mind. Jeff slumped in that chair on the terrace in Crete, a hole in his forehead and cats lapping his blood.
There was Jackie’s Mum and Dad standing proudly by their daughter. They had not been immune from the Russian’s search for their paperwork. The home invasion and attempted abduction of Daniel had left her mum with limited use of her arm where she had been shot and her father would never recover his speech fully, or his mobility after his stroke. Such a high price had been paid by all of them for a few men’s greed.
There were the group photographs. He could make out Elaine Wilkins, his boss, and her son Nick in the background among the sea of familiar faces, distant relatives and old friends of them both. He closed the album and holding back the tears pushed it away from him.
The old child’s book, in Arabic, tired and tatty with use over the years drew his attention. He allowed it to fall open to where its previous owner had viewed it the most often. The owner was the assassin who had twice entered his life, called Annubis. Tim knew little of him, but knew that he treasured this book, given to him as a child, presumably by someone he loved.
The book opened naturally at the scene of the passing of the soul into the afterlife. Thoth, the ibis headed god, stood to the left recording the proceedings as scribe. The balance scales were in the middle, a feather on one side and the soul of the departed on the other. Annubis, the Jackal headed god, presided over the weighing while Sobek, the crocodile god, waited to take the souls found heavier than the feather to the underworld. Isis waited to escort the souls without sin to their place in the heavens, to become stars.
Tim closed the book and knew that he had weighed and passed judgement on the Driver, that judgment was damnation. Tim would feed his sole to Sobek and ensure his passage to hell.
Chapter 39
Tim had to contend with the queues on the M25 at the Queen Elizabeth II Bridge before he turned off at the Bluewater shopping centre and headed for the village of South Darenth. He had located the Driver’s house easily, being by far the largest property in the Kent Village. Located on the corner of two roads, it occupied nearly three acres. He drove past the Drive on Roman Villa road and saw the double gates leading to the swimming pool complex ahead and the stables further down. He turned right at the end of the road and parked a discrete distance from the property.
He walked back up the Holmesdale Hill and found the side entrance. It was a small gate with a post box to one side. He entered and climbed some steps past the now, leafless rose bushes. He found himself at the rear of the property looking at the grass tennis court. He was conscious of his heart beating as he passed the rear windows. He saw the kitchen at the end of the property that backed on to a paved courtyard. This was his hope of gaining access without being seen.
He tried the kitchen door and found it unlocked. He entered cautiously and drew the gun from his overcoat pocket. He passed through the utility room and found himself in a large farmhouse kitchen on his left and a huge dining room off to his right that could be seen through double glass doors. He crossed and slowly opened the internal door.
To his right was the front door and steps going up. There was a reception room directly in front of him with etched glass doors and to his left was an open door to the rear reception room. He could hear the sound of shooting and explosions emanating from it.
The door being ajar, he made his way quietly in the direction of the sound of the gaming console. He pushed the door further open so he could gain a better view. He felt his hand tense on the gun as he sidled into the room.
He need not have been concerned. The Driver was sat with his back to him, totally immersed in his Play Station. He stood behind him and pointed the gun at the back of his head. He thought of just pulling
the trigger and blowing his brains across the room, but he remembered that Stiles and his wife had the last view of the killer face to face, as he callously put a bullet into their faces.
He walked to the front of the Drivers chair and stood in his view. He was so engrossed in his game that he did not notice Tim standing there with the gun aimed at his head. Gradually the presence of someone in the room dawned on him. He started and dropped the joy pad, his mouth hung open. The noise of the game continued as the Driver sat frozen, fear across his face and wide eyed.
“Hello Nick, time to pay your dues,” said Tim.
Nick Wilkins, the son of Elaine, head of MI5 was stareing unbelieving at Tim. He was paralysed, stareing at the gun. “How...” he struggled to speak.
“How did I find you? Hambros Benedict gave me your phone number after the Russians, you owed money to, murdered his wife.” Tim’s voice was emotionless as he readied himself to fire.
“Don’t kill me, I had no choice. I only meant to steal the file to get the bastards off my back. I just walked straight into Jeff and your wife. I had no choice, they both knew me from your wedding.”
“So you just blew their brains over the terrace and took the file to save your arse. “ Tim levelled the gun at Nick’s face.
“I wouldn’t do that.” He heard Elaine’s voice behind him. She had been in the house and entered the room behind him. He looked and saw that she had a gun pointed at his head.
“You can fuck yourself. You are as guilty as he is. He came to you didn’t he when his arms deal fucked up and the Russians were after him. It was you that hid him in an MI5 safe house. You weren’t happy in just keeping him alive. Were you?”
She said nothing and kept the gun trained on Tim’s head.
“Then you saw your chance to save your precious, worthless piece of crap of a son. You had me and the file in custody in Thames House. You let me and Stiles keep the file and go to Crete with it to save my wife. It was out of character. You would have played it by the book and handed the file to MI6. It was so out of character that I should have known earlier, but I ignored it. Your saw your chance to save your precious son. You knew that Yerik, Lesta and Nikhil would do anything to have that file. You helped me out of your own self-interest. You protected Stiles, Jackie and me from the Russians for one reason only, to send your son to take possession of the file whatever the cost. Jackie and Stile’s lives counted for nothing as long as Nicholas was safe?”
Dealer (A Tim Burr Thriller Book 3) Page 14
