The Disciple didb-2

by Steven Dunne

  Drexler lifted the M9 to the ceiling and pulled the trigger. The gun made a dull clicking noise but didn’t fire. He smiled into the break of tension then dropped the weapon to reach for his own gun in his ankle holster. But before he got close, a sharp pain in his neck made him recoil and he turned to see Nicole Bailey pull away from him with an empty hypodermic in her fist.

  Drexler began to feel his legs buckle but McQuarry held him upright. He could feel the skin of her face touching his and was vaguely aware that she was talking to him, but he couldn’t take in what she was saying.

  Then she dragged him to the bed and lowered him onto the mattress. She slapped his face and forced him into eye contact then extracted the keys to his Audi and threw them to Nicole.

  ‘You blew it, Mike. All you had to do was make the world better. Gather up that sheet, hon.’

  Nicole Bailey pulled the sheet to cover Drexler’s feet and tied a knot in it. He followed her movements like a zombie, eyes only. McQuarry evidently did something similar behind his head, but he was unable to turn and see.

  McQuarry extracted a camera from the case Sorenson had left behind, and took several photographs of the room and of Drexler and Jacob Ashwell, sitting helplessly against the wall. She returned the camera to the case and Nicole threw in the two hypodermics and unplugged the CD player and placed that inside also.

  While Nicole trotted out to the car with the case, McQuarry rolled up Drexler’s trouser leg and took out his back-up weapon. She checked the magazine and flicked off the safety. She aimed at Ashwell, who gazed up at her in mild interest.

  ‘Welcome to hell, cockroach.’ She fired twice to the head, causing blood and brain material to fan out around the wall. A last rasping breath bubbled through the blood in Ashwell’s mouth and his chest stopped moving.

  She put the gun in Drexler’s hand, squeezed his fingers around the grip, then dropped it in an evidence bag peeled from another pocket.

  ‘Insurance, Mike.’ She tossed it to Nicole who departed to put it in Drexler’s car.

  Meanwhile McQuarry busied herself emptying gasoline around the room. When Nicole returned they each took an end of Drexler’s sheet and lifted him onto the floor. They wrapped the sheet round him and McQuarry moved over him. His brain was on fire, his vision blurred and dotted with every colour in the rainbow and more. She slapped him playfully across the face to focus his eyes and grabbed his chin to hold his face to hers. He tried to speak and vaguely heard himself say, ‘This gonna hurt?’

  McQuarry smiled at him as he began to drift into a stupor. She slapped him softly again. ‘No. It won’t hurt. I’m going to miss you.’ A tear sprang from the corner of her eye and landed on the sheet. ‘Sleep now.’ She bent down and kissed him on the forehead, then looked up at the girl. ‘Okay, hon.’ Between them they hoisted Drexler in the sheet and carried him to the Audi, squeezing him onto the back seat with some difficulty.

  When they were ready to leave, McQuarry lit a cigarette, took a huge pull and threw the glowing butt into the cabin. A few moments later the hiss of the igniting accelerant was followed by the sizzle and crack of a fire starting. McQuarry jumped back into the Audi to watch the flames catch.

  Nicole jumped into the passenger seat and turned to Drexler.

  ‘I’m sorry. I know how it feels to be so powerless.’ She bent down and picked something up from a bag and held it to her cheek. Drexler recognised the rag doll from the wrecked VW, before his eyes rolled up to his forehead and he fell into a black pit.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Drexler felt the cold steel of the gun by his ear and held his own weapon up to the ceiling. An arm grabbed it from him, then spun him round. Drexler looked at McQuarry and put his arms down. He broke into a grin.

  ‘How you doing, Ed?’

  McQuarry stepped into the light. She was below average height with medium-length grey hair; Brook could see the resemblance to the figure watching the Ingham house from Dottie North’s bedroom. She turned her cold gaze to Brook, and gestured him to sit with a wave of her gun.

  ‘You tell me,’ she said with a touch more warmth in her eyes.

  ‘You look great,’ Drexler grinned. ‘See you go to the same hair colourist as me.’

  McQuarry laughed and her face softened around the rarely used laughter lines. She squinted down at Drexler’s gun. ‘Jeez, Mike. Is this Sorenson’s M9?’

  ‘Sure is. I knew you’d remember.’

  ‘I hope you had the firing pin fixed.’ She slid the M9 into her pocket and gestured across to Nicole, who got off the bed and searched Drexler’s pockets. ‘You,’ she barked at Brook.

  ‘Petra? Agent McQuarry? What do I call you?’ asked Brook.

  McQuarry smiled back at him. ‘Well, I finally get to meet the great man without a lens between us. Tell a lie, we have met before. I walked right past you, carrying that piece of fence outta the Ingham yard. That was a rush.’

  ‘Wearing a forensic suit supplied by Nicole.’ Brook nodded.

  ‘That’s right, Detective. You let me walk right by you. I coulda reached over and shook your hand — had to settle for a wink.’ She grinned at Brook’s face.

  ‘And the other SOCOs thought you’d walked round the block to help them lift it.’

  McQuarry continued to grin. Then she saw the computer. ‘How long was he in here, hon?’

  ‘Not long, Ed,’ replied Nicole.

  ‘He know about RAG?’

  ‘No. He didn’t know the password?’

  Brook’s eyes darted from one to the other. McQuarry grunted and stared at Brook, her grin long gone.

  ‘On your knees, hands in front. Tie him, honey,’ she said softly to Nicole. Nicole disappeared into the storage room. Drexler stared at Brook with a strange look on his face. Brook shrugged back at him.

  ‘So you were telling the truth, Reaper man,’ said Drexler.

  ‘You two know each other?’ asked McQuarry, her eyes narrowing.

  ‘We’re neighbours,’ smiled Brook.

  Nicole returned with a plastic tie. ‘It’s true,’ she said. ‘Agent Drexler saw me at his house. He’s been following Brook.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘To find you, Ed,’ said Drexler. ‘I nearly caught up with you in Brighton.’

  ‘How did you know I was in England?’

  ‘I didn’t for sure. But Sorenson lived in England, Brook was here, Nicole was English. I just figured.’

  Nicole held Brook’s wrists together and pulled the plastic tie tight around them. Brook stared into her eyes while she worked and was finally rewarded with an almost embarrassed glance before she resumed her position behind McQuarry.

  ‘Gotta hand it to you, Mike, you haven’t lost your touch.’ Her smile faded. ‘What did you want to see me about?’

  ‘You’re my friend, Ed. Do I need a reason?’

  McQuarry emitted a one-note chuckle. ‘Yeah, after the Golden Nugget, you kinda do. Looking for some payback?’

  ‘Payback? No. I just wanted to apologise…’

  ‘Apologise?’

  Drexler shrugged. ‘I let you down in Tahoe. I shouldn’t have got so moral on you. Jake Ashwell needed putting down. I know it’s too late to make up for it, but there it is.’

  ‘Mike, you’re making me feel bad. I thought you’d still be pissed I sold you out to the professor.’

  ‘You did what you thought was right.’

  She fixed him with her cold blue eyes. ‘And then there was your father.’

  Drexler grinned. ‘My father? I put that sorry-ass sonofabitch out of my mind from that moment on.’

  ‘You didn’t try to find him then?’ asked McQuarry, her eyes piercing him.

  ‘Nope. Far as I’m concerned, if the old fucker’s still alive, whatever bar he’s in right now and whatever woman he’s beating up on, well, they’re welcome to him. I started a new life that day and it’s thanks to you. That’s what I came to say.’ He smiled at her.

  There was silence while McQuarry looked at him.
Finally she smiled. ‘My pleasure. Well, if there’s nothing else, Mike, we have a plane to catch.’

  ‘What about Brook?’ asked Nicole.

  McQuarry turned her cold eyes back to him. ‘This sorry-ass sonofabitch is one major disappointment. I don’t know what the professor ever saw in you. Just one cut and the world is saved from another scumbag. How many chances do you need to be a real man?’

  Brook managed a chuckle. ‘More than you I’m glad to say, Special Agent.’

  McQuarry’s face hardened. She looked again at the computer with its flashing prompt. ‘Maybe we should just shoot him to be on the safe side.’

  Brook continued to smile at McQuarry. ‘Can I choose the music?’

  McQuarry laughed. ‘Keep it up, fella. With entertainment this good you just might live to see tomorrow. He comes with us,’ she said to Nicole. ‘We can drop him off on the way.’

  ‘There’s no need, Ed,’ said Nicole. ‘He can’t do anything without giving himself away. Let’s put him under for a day.’

  ‘He comes with us, hon. Let’s hustle.’

  ‘What about me, Ed?’ asked Drexler. ‘Anything I can do?’

  ‘Give us a hand with the luggage?’

  Nicole marched Brook in front of her, a gun at his back, a coat thrown over his bound wrists. They went carefully down the stairs and, on reaching the entrance hall, continued down another flight to the basement.

  ‘How’s your hand?’

  ‘It hurts.’

  ‘I’m sorry.’ Brook turned his head to her. ‘She’s going to kill me, Nicole. You know that, don’t you? Mike too probably.’

  ‘She’s not like that, now stop talking.’

  ‘People change.’

  ‘That’s not the way it works, Damen. Uncle Vic wouldn’t allow it.’

  ‘Sorenson’s dead and I’ll be joining him soon. She knows the area, right?’

  ‘She’s lived in Derby the last two years. I was in Brighton mostly.’

  ‘Want to bet we’ll make a detour down a deserted road on the way?’

  ‘Give it a rest, Damen.’ Nicole halted Brook next to a parking bay containing a sleek black Audi. She opened the side door, took out a roll of gaffer tape and stretched a piece over Brook’s mouth before pushing him into the back seat. She sat behind the wheel and glanced up at Brook in the driver’s mirror. His eyes were fixed on hers.

  Two minutes later, Drexler and McQuarry emerged into the gloom carrying two bags. Each placed a bag in the boot before McQuarry closed it.

  Drexler looked at her. ‘Well, I guess this is it. What time’s your plane?’

  McQuarry smiled back. ‘It’s a private jet. Takeoff’s when we get there.’

  ‘Smooth.’

  ‘Say, Mike. Come and see us off, would you? I’d appreciate it. You can drive the car back here.’

  ‘You’re coming back?’

  ‘You never know.’

  Drexler gazed into his former partner’s eyes, a thin smile barely grazing his features.

  ‘Don’t worry. The satnav will get you back.’

  Drexler’s smile broadened. ‘Sure, Ed. I’d like that. But no tears this time.’

  McQuarry laughed. ‘You sit in front with Nicky.’

  ‘Why is Agent Drexler coming?’ asked Nicole, starting the car.

  ‘He’s going to drive the car back,’ McQuarry replied, not looking at her. She sat next to Brook in the back and when the car reached the security gate she waved a card at a sensor and it opened. She passed the security card forward to Drexler. ‘You’ll need this when you bring the car back, Mike.’ He pocketed it with a nod. ‘And you better have these, Inspector Damen Brook.’ Nicole looked in the mirror as McQuarry took the keys to the flat and dropped them in Brook’s jacket pocket. ‘Just in case you come to your senses — it’s a good location if you need to store supplies and there are plenty of resources already there.’ Brook managed his best sceptical expression, despite his taped mouth. Thank God for eyebrows.

  They set off through the deserted streets of Derby for the short trip to East Midlands Airport, past the Midland Hotel and the Indian restaurant in which Nicole/Laura had poisoned DCI Hudson. Within fifteen minutes they were on the A50 heading towards the motorway.

  Brook used his bound hands to wind down the rear window a crack to suck in the cold, mulchy air. McQuarry looked over. ‘The childlocks on, honey?’ she asked Nicole.

  ‘They’re on.’

  Ten minutes later they exited a roundabout. Nicole pulled on a baseball cap which made her look more anonymous, presumably for the upcoming airport cameras.

  ‘Drive straight on,’ said McQuarry.

  Nicole looked sharply at Brook in the mirror. ‘Why?’ she asked a little too loudly.

  ‘We can hardly drive into the airport with the inspector bound and gagged, honey. We’ll just drop him in the middle of nowhere and he can walk back to civilisation. Okay with you, Inspector?’

  Brook broke off his stare into the driver’s mirror, but made no effort to acknowledge the question. Another five minutes and the streetlights disappeared and the roads started to narrow and meander.

  Nicole was forced to drive much slower and Brook kept his gaze on her. When she wasn’t looking at Brook, her eyes were darting from side to side.

  ‘It’s the middle of winter, Ed. What if the inspector turns an ankle and can’t walk? He could die of hypothermia.’

  McQuarry flashed back a private-joke smile. ‘He’ll be fine, honey. We’ll wrap him up warm. Take the next left.’

  Nicole turned left onto a one-car track, slowing the car to fifteen miles an hour. She had to put the headlights on full beam.

  ‘Pull in here,’ ordered McQuarry. The car halted next to a field covered in grass. Apart from those of the car and the moon and stars in the sky, there were no lights visible anywhere.

  Nicole wouldn’t look at Brook and he got the impression she was breathing heavily.

  ‘Everybody out.’ The gun had reappeared in McQuarry’s hand and she dragged Brook from his seat. She pulled him round the car and walked him into the semi-gloom at the edge of the headlight beam before pushing him to his knees. Nicole and Drexler got out but didn’t venture away from the vehicle. McQuarry tore off the gag and Brook exercised his jaw. He thought about shouting for help, but didn’t want to hasten his end.

  ‘If you’ve got any prayers, Brook, now’s the time.’ She tapped the back of his head with the nozzle of her gun.

  Brook managed a bitter one-note chuckle. ‘I’m British, Ed. We’ve abolished God.’ The sight of one of his final breaths condensing in the air made him yearn for a last cigarette.

  McQuarry turned to the car, a huge toothy grin on her mouth. ‘This is a funny guy. What a waste.’

  ‘This isn’t right, Ed. Brook’s a police officer. Uncle Vic wouldn’t want this.’ Nicole’s voice was strained, her speech punctuated by sharp breaths visible in the cold.

  ‘Uncle Vic is in the ground, honey, and times change. Only people don’t. He’s fucked up too many times. We can’t trust him.’

  ‘You can’t kill him, Ed,’ Nicole tried again. ‘He’s served. He’s one of the good guys.’

  ‘I’ll make it quick, honey,’ answered McQuarry. ‘But we can’t leave him. He knows too much. Now let’s not drag this out.’

  ‘Ed, please don’t. He doesn’t know anything.’

  ‘RAG, Inspector Brook. It stands for Reaper Armageddon. On that day, the whole world will know the value of The Reaper’s work.’ McQuarry grinned at Nicole. ‘See, honey, he knows too much.’

  McQuarry turned to Drexler and beckoned him over. After a brief hesitation Drexler walked across to Brook and McQuarry, his arms resolutely inside his coat.

  ‘You said you wanted to make it right, Mike. Here.’ McQuarry changed her own gun to her left hand and took out the M9. ‘Use Sorenson’s gun like you should’ve in Tahoe. It has a nice ring to it.’

  Drexler looked at McQuarry’s outstretched hand, then at Broo
k, then into McQuarry’s cold eyes. He smiled suddenly then nodded and took the gun, examining it carefully before flicking off the safety. He pointed it at the back of Brook’s head.

  Brook saw the shadow of Drexler’s outstretched arm in the glow of the headlights and closed his eyes. There would be no music tonight.

  ‘The bad guys have guns,’ he muttered, waiting for the explosion.

  A second later Drexler swivelled, pointing the gun at McQuarry. ‘Drop it, Ed.’

  She grinned at him and nodded, but made no move to drop her gun. ‘I knew it.’

  ‘You have to answer for my father.’

  McQuarry smiled faintly. ‘You were always weak.’ She held onto her revolver but made no move to raise it.

  ‘Drop the gun, Ed.’

  ‘So you didn’t put him out of your mind.’

  ‘I couldn’t. I found him without your help. It was six months after the Golden Nugget. He was working in a soup kitchen in San Francisco. But then you already knew that.’ McQuarry didn’t reply. ‘Did you also know he’d been sober for a year? No? Did you know he gave his time for free? No? Did you know he was doing the twelve steps?’

  McQuarry shrugged.

  ‘He sobbed when I found him, Ed. He begged me to try and forgive him for what he’d done. He said he’d understand if I couldn’t, but he said he loved me and wanted me in his life.’

  ‘And you believed him? What a schmuck.’

  ‘No, I didn’t believe him. And no, I didn’t trust him. But guess what? I no longer wanted him dead. See, he was suffering for what he’d done. I saw that much. It was killing him inside. And if it took years to win back my trust he said he wanted to try. He needed at least that ray of hope. I was prepared to allow him that.’

  ‘He was a wife-beating drunk, Mike.’

  ‘Was? You heard he died then.’

  ‘I heard, Mike,’ smiled McQuarry.

  ‘Did you hear someone waited for him in his fleapit hotel and cut his throat?’