The Severance Trilogy Box Set

by Mark McKay

  He went all the way down the hall as quietly as possible. There was a door at the end that opened into the garden. You could look into the lounge from there, if the curtains weren’t completely drawn. And there was another way in too, through the kitchen. He went into the garden and made his way past the kitchen entrance to the lounge window. There was a chink of light coming through the curtains, just enough to get a look in from close up. He stood back a bit so the shadow of his head wouldn’t be visible, and stared in.

  The sight that met his eyes was chilling. Mariko was kneeling on her haunches on the carpet, but it wasn’t by choice. She was naked, and she’d been elaborately tied up with rope. She was trussed from the neck down. The ropes criss-crossed her breasts and then passed around her hips and down to her feet, which had been tied together. From there, they had been extended to secure her hands behind her back. She was totally immobilised, but that wasn’t the worst part. There was a noose tied around her neck and the man who had done this to her was standing behind her with a knee in her back, slowly tightening it. It was forcing her head back, and if he didn’t stop he would either strangle her or break her neck. Or both.

  The man was dressed in black and wearing a balaclava. Nick had a sudden sense of déjà vu. He’d seen a man like that in Oyama’s cottage once, an assassin sent from Japan. He couldn’t understand why the man had gone through the elaborate ritual of tying Mariko up like this. Under other circumstances it would have been considered a form of erotic bondage. Then he saw the video camera mounted on the tripod and he understood. Someone wanted to see her like this, to see her die like this.

  From what he could see of her face in profile, she was only semi-conscious. No words were being exchanged. As far as the man in black was concerned, this was a performance for the camera and he would take his time about it. But not too much time. Nick had to stop him.

  One of his keys opened the kitchen door. He went in, trying to combine speed with stealth. Once he got inside he got a whiff of that bitter odour, again. Then he could hear the man talking, in Japanese. If it was a conversation it was one-sided, Mariko didn’t respond at all. What the hell was he going to do? If he burst in all the man had to do was pull sharply on the noose and Mariko would die. He could go to the bedroom and get his gun but he didn’t really have time for that. He needed a diversion. There was another door out of the kitchen and into the entrance hall. The front door of the apartment was only a step or two away. He went up to it and knocked, from the inside.

  ‘Pizza, for Watanabe,’ he said, raising his voice a little and hoping he sounded the part. He was facing the door, trying to give the impression that he was on the other side of it.

  The Japanese commentary stopped. There was absolute silence for five seconds. No movement from the lounge. Nick tried again.

  ‘Watanabe? Come on, I need cash, please.’

  There was the sound of a muffled curse from the lounge and then movement. The lounge door opened and the man in black came out, removing his balaclava. He was momentarily unsighted and Nick closed the distance between them in two strides and went for his nose with a heel of the hand strike.

  He nearly connected. Mariko’s tormentor realised he had company and turned sideways, just in time. The strike missed and Nick was almost caught by a counter-strike to the throat. Both men stopped for a second, sizing each other up. Nick was surprised to be facing a man who must have been a good ten years older than he was, with sharp oriental features and greying hair. He’d avoided Nick’s first strike with ease, it seemed his reflexes belied his years.

  There wasn’t much space to work with in the hall. The Japanese had looked momentarily startled when he’d first encountered Nick, but now his face was a mask of concentration. He didn’t wait to be attacked. Instead, he took the initiative and went for Nick’s eyes with extended fingers. At the same time, he aimed a kick at Nick’s knee. Nick moved and the kick grazed his thigh, making him stagger backwards. He got a hand on the incoming fingers and went for a wrist-break. The intruder countered that by moving forward and letting his arm bend, effectively yielding out of it. Then his elbow took Nick in the chest and it felt a bit like being hit by a train. Nick thumped into the wall, stunned. He was just able to avoid another fist to the throat and suddenly he had an opening. He was able to get both hands on his opponent’s arm and then he stepped in a circular motion, using the man’s momentum to take him down. He heard the shoulder dislocate as his adversary hit the floor, face first. Nick quickly dropped on his back with both knees and before the man could react he got a hand under the chin and snapped the neck backwards. That was enough to end both the fight and his life.

  Nick stood up, massaging his chest. The earlier blow had started his ribs aching, but he thought they had survived the onslaught. He checked the man’s pulse, and only when he was satisfied there wasn’t one, did he go into the lounge. Mariko was where he’d last seen her, bound and kneeling. She looked at him with unfocused eyes, as if she’d been drugged with something. If that was the case it hadn’t dimmed her resistance completely, he could still see a trace of defiance and anger in that glazed expression. He knelt down in front of her. She didn’t seem to know who he was.

  ‘It’s me,’ he said, ‘It’s Nick. It’s going to be OK, now.’

  He saw the light return to her eyes. She tried to smile, and then suddenly she was crying. He’d never seen Mariko cry before and it shocked him. To him she’d always been the epitome of what it meant to be cool and strong and unbreakable. He forgot she was tied up and naked and put his arms around her, holding her tight. She didn’t sob, in fact she made no noise at all, but he felt the heat of her tears on his neck and he felt her body shudder.

  ‘Get these ropes off me,’ she whispered.

  He moved around back of her and undid the knots. It took a good five minutes, they’d been done with precision and there were lots of them. When he was done she sighed and moved her body so she was sitting cross-legged on the floor. He went into her bedroom and got a robe for her, which she slipped her arms into and then wrapped around herself. She wiped away the tears.

  ‘Is he dead?’ she asked. Nick nodded. ‘He pumped a gas of some kind in through the front door. By the time I smelled it, it was too late. I could hardly move and then a few minutes later he came in.’

  That explained the strange odour in the apartment. It must be an after-effect, thought Nick, as he stood up to open a window. Otherwise the killer would have been disabled, too. He realised that the video camera was still on, and went over and switched it off.

  ‘This is nothing to do with Conrad,’ he said.

  ‘No. It is someone sent by Takashi Yamada. I don’t know how he found me, but now I do know how he wants to see me die.’

  She tried to stand up, but found it difficult. The pressure she’d been forced to endure on her still injured leg had taken its toll. He put his arms around her and helped her up. She took a step, but it was obviously painful.

  ‘I think it’s time I looked after you for a change,’ he said. He picked her up and carried her to her bedroom. She didn’t say anything, but she didn’t stop him. He put her down on the bed.

  ‘Thank you,’ she said, with just the shadow of her normal, crooked smile. She lay down and closed her eyes.

  ‘I’m just going to check on our friend,’ he said.

  He went through the dead man’s pockets, but there was nothing there to identify him. He had some cash and a bunch of keys. Some of them looked like skeleton keys, one of which had no doubt opened the front door. He would have to report this to the police, or more specifically, Russell. He hadn’t mentioned the bogus researcher ploy with the DCI because he’d thought Russell would only insist on surrounding the place with undercover policemen, which might go wrong and scare Conrad away. In retrospect, it might have been handy to have them around.

  He found the gas canister in the kitchen. It was about the size of a can of air-freshener and had a tiny tube attach
ed at one end, with a little foot-pump dangling from the other. Clever. Slip it under a door or through a letter-box and you were in business, as long as you stayed downwind, that is.

  He sighed and returned to the hall. He took a long look at the body lying there and reached for his phone. The number rang for a long time before it was answered.

  ‘Sorry it’s so late,’ said Nick, once Russell had established who was calling. ‘Are you back in Penzance?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Russell, who was obviously half-asleep and irritated by this disturbance. ‘What on earth is it?’

  ‘Someone tried to kill me. But I killed him, instead. It’s related to the case, so I thought you should know.’

  ‘You mean it was Steadman?’ asked Russell, who sounded wide-awake, now.

  ‘We were expecting Steadman, but we got someone else. I can explain it to you later. Right now, I need someone to take him away and I don’t want to be arrested when that happens.’

  ‘Alright. Call an ambulance. I’ll call DCI Richards. You can make a statement to him and then we’ll take a view on the arrest business. How does that sound?’

  It wasn’t quite the reassurance Nick had hoped for, but it would have to do.

  ‘Fine, send him around. I’ll give you the address.’

  He gave Russell the details and disconnected, and then he called the ambulance service. He thought it would be a good idea to tell Mariko what had been decided, so he knocked on her door and went in. She was under the covers, fast asleep and breathing regularly. He went back into the lounge and gathered up the rope from the floor. He wondered how he would explain the events of the evening to Richards when he arrived. Tying someone up and strangling them for the camera wasn’t your everyday murder scenario. Still, if Richards or Russell were skeptical, the recording would change their minds. It was evidence, now. Grim, but convincing. He sat down, and waited.

  Chapter 12

  The ambulance arrived well before DCI Richards. Once the two paramedics had established that the man lying on the hall floor was dead, they agreed to wait a while until the detective showed up. He turned up fifteen minutes later, with a uniformed policewoman. By this time, it was well past midnight.

  ‘Have you moved anything?’ was his first question, when he saw the body.

  Nick shook his head. The policewoman took a few photographs and then Richards gave the nod to the ambulance crew. Five minutes later, the body had been transferred to the ambulance and was on its way to the morgue.

  ‘I couldn’t get hold of a pathologist,’ said Richards. ‘Tell me exactly what happened here.’

  Nick told him. He took Richards through to the lounge and indicated the video camera, on its tripod.

  ‘You can play the recording,’ he said. ‘That will back up what I’ve just told you.’

  ‘I’ll take this as evidence. Where’s Ms Watanabe?’

  ‘I’m here,’ said Mariko, pushing open the lounge door. The activity had woken her. She looked fully alert now and had put on jeans and a t-shirt. There was an angry red welt around her neck where the noose had been.

  ‘Are you OK?’ Richards asked. ‘Any more marks or bruises?’

  Mariko just nodded, and Richards summoned his colleague.

  ‘Andrea will take some photos if you don’t mind,’ he said.

  ‘Of course.’ The policewoman took Mariko back to her bedroom and Richards turned to Nick.

  ‘I’ve been instructed not to detain you,’ he said. ‘But I’d appreciate it if you didn’t go anywhere until we find out more about the man they just took away. Do you know who he was and why he’d want to kill Ms Watanabe?’

  ‘We think he was sent from Japan. But that’s all I can tell you.’

  Richards clearly found this answer less than satisfactory, but he held fire on the follow up questions. ‘Alright. I’ll look at this evidence and then call you. We’ll want a formal statement in the next day or two. From both of you. That means a visit to the station.’

  Nick told Richards that he would wait for the call and that if he went anywhere, it would only be as far as the cottage near Sevenoaks. A few minutes later Andrea emerged from the bedroom. She and Richards bagged up the ropes, gas canister and video equipment, and then they left. Mariko came back and sat with him.

  ‘What did you tell them?’ she asked.

  ‘Nothing. He came from Japan, that was it.’

  ‘They won’t identify him, either.’ Mariko reached out and took his hand. ‘Thank you.’

  He smiled. They sat for a while, not saying anything. Then Mariko got up.

  ‘I’m going to have a shower.’

  ‘OK. Do you want to stay on here? I don’t think Conrad is coming.’

  Mariko fingered the mark on her neck. ‘Perhaps he’ll come, but right now I don’t need another unfriendly visitor. Let’s go back to the cottage after we’ve had some sleep.’

  That sounded like a good idea. He made sure the place was secure and then went to bed. He could hear the water flowing as Mariko took her shower and it was a reassuring, calming sound. Like rain on a tin roof. The kind of sound that would normally help him drift off, but he was still too wound up and full of questions about what had just happened to do that. And more than a little relieved that Mariko was still alive. He lay back and closed his eyes, but sleep wouldn’t come and he resigned himself to a few hours of pseudo-sleep, somewhere between dreaming and consciousness. He heard the shower stop and Mariko’s footsteps in the hallway. When she came into his room and got into bed with him he was too surprised to say anything. She spooned herself against him and then slipped her arms around him and promptly fell asleep. Shortly afterwards, so did he.

  Later that day, they packed up and left the Kensington apartment. They arrived back at the cottage and told Katsu Oyama what had happened. For him, the appearance of an assassin from Japan had uncomfortable parallels with the man sent to kill Nick the last time he had stayed at the cottage.

  ‘How did he find you?’ the sensei wanted to know.

  ‘I don’t know,’ said Mariko. ‘He must have followed me. From here, probably. Yamada knows about this place.’

  Oyama took a long look at Mariko’s neck and muttered something to himself. ‘We must assume that when he doesn’t report back, someone else will be sent to kill you. Both of you. We must increase security.’

  The cottage already had a few security cameras, but Oyama deemed these insufficient. He would buy more and install them and get some motion sensors as well. If anything bigger than a fox came within thirty feet of the house, it would trigger an alarm. He knew of a place in Sevenoaks where he could get all this equipment and wasted no time in getting in the car and driving off to visit it. When he came back they spent the rest of that day and all of the next making sure everything was in place and working. Oyama then announced that one of them must be awake during any eight-hour period of the day. If the technology failed, human awareness wouldn’t. What that meant in practice was that one of them needed to be up between midnight and 8am, so they would do that on a rota system. Tonight, Oyama would take the night watch.

  ‘Are you expecting anyone?’ Nick asked. ‘What about Shauna?’

  ‘She rang this morning. She has to go to Dublin for a week, she said. Family business.’

  With Shauna out of the picture, anyone else who visited would be treated as potentially hostile.

  ‘How long can you stay?’ Nick asked Mariko.

  ‘Unless I’m called back for some reason, as long as necessary. Once you find Mr Steadman and we discover what he did with Katsu’s sword, everything will be resolved. In the meantime, I can make a plan to deal with Yamada.’

  They settled into a routine. Nick and Mariko did plenty of work in the dojo, but nothing too demanding. Mariko’s leg was getting stronger now and the object of the exercise was to get her back to full fitness. Nick went running through the woods every morning, armed with his handgun. He tried to vary the route as
much as possible and as he ran his senses were focused to detect any sign of another human being out there. While he did that Mariko patrolled the perimeter of the cottage grounds armed with the bow and arrows that she’d left with Oyama on a previous visit. A poor match for a man with a gun you might think, but if she saw you first her aim was sure and the result just as lethal.

  Another week went by. One morning after Aikido practice, Nick had a call from John Henderson at Sanderson-Phillips. Henderson knew that they had abandoned the attempt to trap Conrad and had agreed to update Nick on the progress of the patent application. That was the subject of the call.

  ‘The patent was approved in the US a few hours ago,’ said Henderson. ‘I expect the UK to follow suit sometime today. Then other countries will do the same, including Peru, but it will take a little longer.’

  Nick thanked him for the information and didn’t stop to chat. This meant that the powder and cocaine that he’d seen at the Ascension Retreat Centre would probably soon be on its way, if it hadn’t already arrived. He decided to focus his efforts on the old air force building in Norfolk, as it was the only lead he had as far as a delivery point was concerned. Then he figured that if Hackett were about to sell the powder as a natural aphrodisiac, they would set up a website. He did a search on his laptop for ‘The Stallion of the Amazon’ and although it returned a dozen matches, none of them were retail outlets. Emilio had been right, it seemed this substance was virtually unknown outside Peru. He would keep searching on a daily basis, anyway. Eventually, something would show up.

  Oyama’s sudden obsession with security gave him an idea. He got the name of the shop that the sensei had used to source his equipment and then he drove into Sevenoaks and picked up a camera that could be accessed remotely, online. He drove back to the Norfolk clinic, with the intention of setting it up in the old warehouse and waiting for something to happen. It was early afternoon when he arrived. He turned into the main entrance and drove around the perimeter of the place again, just as he’d done with Harry. As he came down the approach road to the warehouse he could see two large vans through a gap in the trees. He swore and backed up, rapidly. He got back on to the perimeter road and parked the car several hundred yards away. Then he walked back towards the warehouse, using the trees for cover.