Death Trap
Page 23
I take the blame for everything nikki nikki save
And that was it. Rio struggled with her disappointment that Cornelius hadn’t spelt out what he’d meant.
Blame for what?
And why was he so preoccupied with Nikki?
forty-one
11:52 a.m.
nikki save.
Part of Cornelius Bell’s last recorded words stayed with Rio as she eased her BMW to a halt outside of Calum’s office above the butcher’s in Brixton. Was he just worried about his younger cousin because a hitman was – or still is – on her tail? But Cornelius hadn’t known about the hitman. And what did he blame himself for? Did it have something to do with the case?
As much as she twisted and turned the last question in her mind, Rio couldn’t find an answer . . . Unless Cornelius had somehow been inside the house with the Greenbelt Gang and pulled the trigger ending all their lives. Revenge? No, she dismissed it instantly. No way would Cornelius have known where the gang was; plus he’d been hooked on the type of gear that didn’t keep a mind straight. Maybe that was all his suicide note was? The ramblings of a junkie’s wired brain.
Rio got out of the car and walked up the stairs to Calum’s office after being buzzed in. She halted briefly outside the first door on the landing upstairs and then moved on towards the next room, Calum’s office.
‘Thank God you’re here,’ Calum said as soon as he saw her.
He was at his desk, one leg on it, his bad leg on the ground, with a glass of – she assumed – Hennessy’s. The front of his dark hair stood up in tufts with the pattern of fingers that had been thrust through it many times. His face was creased with tiredness, which didn’t surprise her knowing he would have been up most of the night.
‘Been that bad?’ Rio offered sympathetically, remaining in the doorway.
Calum drained the glass and slapped it down on the desk. ‘Of course it’s been effing bad. I’m not happy with what we’ve done.’ He dropped his leg and stood up, rolling the muscles of his shoulders. ‘Are you sure you know what you’re doing?’
Rio didn’t hesitate. ‘Yeah. I wouldn’t be able to sleep at night if I stood back and did nothing. Plus, I’ve just seen Cornelius Bell hanging from his own belt. Dead.’
Calum whistled as he lifted his eyebrows. ‘Suicide?’
‘Looks like. He left a note saying that he was to blame and rambling about saving Nikki—’
‘What does that mean?’
‘Dunno, but it just confirms what I’ve been thinking – something else is going on here and I’m going to find out what it is.’
Calum moved towards her and started speaking again in a hushed voice. ‘You think Cornelius had something to do with the gang?’
‘I’ve got three pieces of a puzzle. But the connecting piece that fits them all together is missing. The first piece is that the Greenbelt Gang were all murdered by someone. Maybe they needed shutting up . . . and if they needed to be silenced I suspect that means Nikki does too. Which leads me to piece number two: the hitman, who I still think is out there trying to get a bullseye on Nikki. Now I’ve got a new piece: the suicide of Cornelius Bell.’
Calum tilted his head, his green gaze piercing Rio: ‘Never thought I’d live to see the day the all perfect brown-eyed girl of the Met got suspended for putting a foot out of place.’
Rio thought he would be crowing and gloating about her present situation, but he wasn’t. She’d always felt that he was just waiting for her to put a step out of line so he could jump in her face and mockingly sneer, ‘Now you know what it feels like.’ Rio wouldn’t go so far as to say he looked sympathetic, but he wasn’t taking the piss out of her either. Then he did something she wasn’t expecting – he rubbed the pad of a finger along her cheek. It made her remember who they were, other than former friends and colleagues. And she hated it; there was no space for emotion with a hitman on the loose trying to get his job done in the fastest time possible.
‘I’ve done what I’ve done,’ she finally responded, stepping back slightly so his finger fell away. ‘So are you going to help me?’
‘You talking about us or the case?’
Now he was the one pissing her off. ‘Just answer me.’
The old jovial Calum slid back into place, one side of his mouth perking up. ‘Sure. But just remember what I said, your whole career could go pop if you carry this out.’
Midday
Shaking and tired, Nikki managed to scramble up off the floor when she heard the footsteps again. She hadn’t heard them for at least the last hour. She was done with screaming and crying; it was clear no one was coming to her rescue. Nikki tried to remember what she’d been taught at that girls’-only physical defence class she’d taken when she was fifteen.
Relax.
Get your defence pose ready.
Strike.
The footsteps got closer. Nikki rushed towards the door, but stopped about one leg length away and got into a fighting stance: body at a forty-five degree angle, left leg forwards, hands up in the on-guard position with the right elbow down protecting her liver.
A key thrust into the lock. Click. The lock turned.
I can do this.
I can do this.
Nikki kept the chant going around her head, even though she felt her leading leg begin to tremble, her balled hands shake.
I can do—
The door thrust open. But instead of leaping forwards, Nikki stumbled back when she saw who stood in the doorway.
The cop Rio and the man she’d come to trust so well, Calum Burns.
forty-two
Nikki’s back was pressed tight against the wall as she accused them. ‘You kidnapped me.’ Her grey eyes possessed the wildness of a stormy sea. ‘Why? Why?’ She placed a shaking palm just below the base of her throat. ‘I thought you were going to kill me.’ There was an audible sucking sound as she pulled and twisted the air back into her chest. ‘You’re not going to kill me are—’
‘Of course we’re not, sweetheart,’ Calum softly cut in.
Rio moved to stand in front of the trembling girl. She stooped with enough space between them so the teen didn’t feel crowded. Calum held himself back in the doorway.
Rio decided that if they left this much longer Nikki was either going to descend into shock overdrive or scream the place down, so she told her the one thing that might make her listen.
‘There’s a hitman out there trying to kill you.’
If Nikki’s body could get any stiller it did in that moment. Except for her chest, which was rising and falling.
Rio pressed on. ‘That’s why the police have been guarding you. The man who attacked you in the hospital is still out there trying to finish the job off. The reason he wants to kill you is because you’re the only witness to what took place in your aunt and uncle’s home. The killer on your trail has been given five days to execute . . .’ Rio deliberately used the word so the girl was in no doubt about the danger she faced, ‘the job.’
The teenager finally spoke as her palms came flat against the wall on either side of her. ‘But I thought the cops had caught that gang—’
‘They have,’ Rio interrupted softly. ‘But I still think that man is out to kill you—’
‘But why drag me over here with something over my head like I’m some kind of animal? Why would the cops do that?’
Rio took a shallow breath. ‘I’ll be upfront with you. My colleagues are easing up on the operation, now the gang’s out of the way. They’re still looking for the man after you, but I know for a fact they’ve only put a small unit out there to try to find him. My boss believes that now the gang are out of the way the hitman will abandon his mission because why would he continue to do a job if there’s no one around to pay him now.’
Nikki rapidly blinked. ‘That makes sense—’
‘It should, but there’s something about this that just doesn’t add up. I can’t tell you all the ins and outs, but I can tell you this – if that man got
to you I would never be able to forgive myself.’
The girl’s breathing started to settle down. ‘If you’ve known this all along, why didn’t you tell me from the get-go?’
Calum joined the conversation for the first time. ‘Maybe we should’ve, but at the time we had to think quickly and couldn’t take the chance you might not go along with our plan.’
Nikki looked at him with eyes of deep betrayal. ‘You got that right. You nearly scared the knickers straight off me.’ Her lip trembled. ‘I liked you. I thought you were my friend.’
Calum took a step into the room. ‘I like you too, sweetheart, that’s why I’d do anything to make sure you don’t get hurt. I know that you want to go and stay with your cousin Ophelia,’ he raised his hands, ‘and I’m not going to stop you if that’s what you decide to do. You’re right; we should’ve been letting you make some of the decisions for yourself.’ He took another step closer. ‘But what if you go to stay with Ophelia and this killer finds out? That’s going to put her in danger as well, isn’t it? And I know the last thing you want is for Ophelia to get hurt.’
‘Like Calum says,’ Rio added, ‘I’m going to put the decision for this in your hands. If you want to go, we won’t stop you. I’ll drive you over to your cousin’s myself. But all I’m asking is that you give me four more days, including today, to sort this out. If that time is up and I’m no closer to sorting this out you’re free to leave. That’s all I’m asking for, Nikki. But the decision is yours.’
Silence. Rio kept her gaze on the girl and watched a range of emotions cross her face – fear, confusion and, finally, exhaustion.
Nikki peeled her body off the wall, but didn’t move forwards. ‘OK, I’ll stay. But only if you let me call Lia to let her know I’m alright.’
Rio didn’t need to look around to know that Calum was smiling. ‘Good girl. But you can’t tell her where you are. I’ll give you a throwaway phone with a jammed signal just in case anyone tries to track down the number and our location.’
Nikki’s eyes lit up. ‘What? You can do that? Will you teach me how to do it?’
Rio heard the admiration and almost hero worship in the sixteen-year-old’s voice, reminding her of the time she’d felt the same about the man standing beside her, before everything personal between them had gone sour.
Ten minutes later Nikki was munching a BLT sandwich – having decided that meat wasn’t murder – and playing a game on Calum’s computer while Rio and her former lover whispered to each other.
‘Whatever happens,’ he said, ‘you’re still going to have to explain why you nabbed the girl and you’ll be lucky to end up with your pension rights.’
‘The only thing I care about that’s at stake here is the life of that girl.’
‘So what are you planning to do next?’
‘Jack Strong is going to keep an eye on anything that might pop up at the house in Kent—’
‘It’s Jack now is it?’ Calum was giving her one of those you-been-holding-out-on-me looks. ‘Have you been banging him while claiming overtime?’
That caught Rio off-guard. Woo-hoo, was cool man Calum J.E.A.L.O.U.S? What if he is? He gave up all rights to where you lay your head every night years back.
‘Who I’ve been screwing with is none of your concern,’ she eventually answered him, sticking her chin defiantly into the air.
‘What if I told you I haven’t been sexing it up with anyone in the last three years?’
Rio scoffed. ‘Pull my other leg at the same time why don’t you.’
That made Calum laugh so hard it left Rio bewildered; she didn’t get where the joke was coming from. Then she clicked. She’d talked about pulling his leg – was this about his accident?
She dropped her chin slightly as she lowered her voice. ‘One of these days you’re going to tell me about what happened to you – but not now. Now we need to focus on this. Did you organise a flight for me?’
He nodded. ‘It leaves at three from Stansted. How can you be sure that it’s Samson Larkin in Northern Cyprus?’
Rio had asked him to organise a quick flight to Cyprus while she was in the car before setting off to see Cornelius Bell. Calum hadn’t asked any questions, but now he was.
‘His mugshot came through from Cyprus. It’s baby-boy Larkin alright.’
‘Still don’t get why you need to see him—’
‘Because whoever is pulling the strings in this case,’ Rio cut in as she stood, ‘thinks they’ve wiped out the gang, but there are two of them still left, if we’re counting Terry Larkin. But I’m more concerned for his son. If Samson Larkin was part of that gang I need to get to him before someone else does.’
Calum gave it ten minutes after Rio left for the airport before he took out the mobile he only ever used for international calls.
When the call connected he said, ‘I’m calling in that favour you owe me . . .’
forty-three
The Hit: Day 4
10:00 a.m. Northern Cyprus Time
8:00 a.m. London Time
Prisons, like gravesides, cast a chill over everything and as Rio was escorted from one security checkpoint to another, within the walls of the correctional facility in Cyprus, she began to shiver slightly. Nicosia was the dividing line between the Greek and Turkish sides of the island. As soon as she’d cleared immigration at the airport, Rio had alerted the Turkish authorities that she was acting as a legal adviser and wanted to pay a client a visit and they’d made the arrangements.
She’d had to wait until the morning, which had been a blow to her plans; she’d wanted to get everything done and dusted as soon as. But knowing there was nothing she could do about the time frame she’d booked a room in a pretty, self-catering three star affair. She’d carefully avoided doing anything that might have brought her to the attention of British representatives on the island because she didn’t want word getting back to London that she was there.
The physical search of her person bought Rio back to the prison. The examination was thorough and forbidding.
‘Which firm do you represent?’ one of the two prison officers asked her.
Rio answered confidently. ‘I’m a freelance solicitor for Stephen Foster in London and was in Cyprus to look after one of his client’s interests.’
The female guard smiled and said, ‘Ah yes, Mr Foster . . .’
It seemed everyone knew Stephen Foster. Rio had some fake paperwork, courtesy of Calum, but she froze briefly when the male guard reached for his phone. If he called Foster’s London office, she was sunk and might be shoved in a prison cell herself. Turned out he was merely calling someone to escort her to an interview room.
The room was bare, even by the standards of such places, with whitewashed walls and a table that was bolted to the ground. Two functional chairs were the only other furniture and there was a red buzzer on the wall. Once Rio was seated, she didn’t have long to wait before the door re-opened and a cuffed youth was escorted into the room. Despite the fading cuts and bruises on his faintly tanned face he had the look of the boy next door who was going to grow into a true heartbreaker. Short, deep-brown hair with a cluster of untamed strands licking his forehead, eyebrows and nose that seemed perfectly placed to fit the shape of his face and hazel eyes . . . It was his eyes that disconcerted Rio the most; they looked too alert.
As he was placed in the chair he acknowledged Rio by narrowing those eyes that were already getting her to rethink her strategy. Just before the guard uncuffed him and left, he made a gesture at Rio, which the youth couldn’t see. He tapped the side of his head with his finger, in a gesture she took to mean that the kid was loco.
But Rio knew that already. This was Samson Larkin.
Larkin checked her over for a while, drumming his fingers against the table. Finally he said, ‘So – who are you?’
‘My name is Miss Filey. I’m a solicitor and I work for Stephen Foster’s law firm in London. He asked me to come and talk to you.’
The beat
of his fingers against the table got louder. ‘What’s your first name?’
That took Rio by surprise. ‘I think we need to keep this professional.’
‘Foster?’ He changed the rhythm of his fingers to a drum roll. ‘But he’s big time isn’t he? I thought our family’s brief was that Catley character?’
He tapped a new tune against the wood, one that sounded vaguely familiar to Rio.
‘Know what this music is?’
‘Mr Larkin, I don’t think we’ve got times for games—’
‘Beethoven’s ‘‘Moonlight’’ Sonata. Otherwise known as his piano sonata No. 14 in C-sharp minor. Graceful. Beautiful. Lures you into thinking everything in the world is good and fine.’ He tapped away some more. Then stopped. Shuffled back in his chair. ‘Some say that Beethoven had African ancestry, like you. Think it’s true?’
The unsettling effect this youth was having on her grew. He might not be as loco as everyone thought. Hadn’t the information Jack Strong found out about him included a report from his psychiatrist that claimed he was a genius? Rio realised that Samson Larkin might be a completely different beast to the one she’d been expecting to deal with.
She got down to business. ‘I’m not sure how much you know about what’s been going on back home, Samson, but your Uncle Gary was arrested by the police on suspicion of being involved in, what the public are calling . . .’ Rio made a big show of looking through her papers. ‘Ah, yes.’ She looked back up at him. ‘The Greenbelt Gang.’
As soon as the word ‘Greenbelt’ was out in the open Rio noticed the way Samson Larkin shifted in his chair as the muscles around his mouth tightened.
‘Who said my name’s Samson Larkin?’
‘We both know who you really are.’
He pouted at her, but didn’t deny the truth. But she didn’t go in for the kill, kept it firm and professional as she carried on.
‘Mr Foster appeared while your Uncle Gary was under arrest and decided he was going to represent him.’