Elena seemed to be looking for the catch but couldn’t see one. With an expression like wax, Mac held out his hand. ‘Give me the gun Elena. I’m going to need it to prove I shot the kids. Get in the bathroom and I’ll hammer you in the secret space.’
She gave him a malicious look. ‘You must think I’m stupid.’ She got off the bed and went to the window, drawing her gun and peering out of the narrow gap in the nets. A light from outside passed over the house, illuminating her beautiful face for a few moments before the darkness fell again. She stood for a long time before a loudhailer outside bellowed, ‘Mac? It’s Phil. Don’t do anything crazy. We can work this out. I’m going to call you on your mobile. Just stay calm and we can sort this out.’
The light from outside flickered over the house again. Mac’s mobile went off. He fetched it from his pocket and took the call.
‘OK Phil, I’m alright. Just give me few minutes and I’ll come out . . . No, I’m on my own, there’s no else here. I’ll chuck the gun out the window first. Don’t panic –don’t storm the house – everything’s cool, and I’ll phone you back in the next ten minutes.’
Mac rang off. Then he got up and walked to where Elena still sat on the bed. He put his hand around the barrel of her pistol and pulled it from her yielding fingers before ordering, ‘In the bathroom . . .’
He took her by the arm and led her away. Like a small child, she allowed herself to be put in the hidden space. Mac picked up the panels and found discarded nails from the raid scattered on the bathroom floor. Panel by panel he knocked the nails back into the holes with the handle of her pistol.
‘This is how it’s going to work. When I’m dragged off to prison, I’m going to get the same lawyer as Garcia. His name is Stephen Foster. Give a contact number to Foster, I’ll tell him you’ll be in touch. When Garcia walks free, he’ll advise you where to pick up the baby.’
When there was only one panel left, she was in darkness and said, ‘I did love you, in my way . . .’
Mac knocked the last panel back into place.
He went back into the bedroom and called to Phil Delaney. ‘I’m going to toss the gun out of the window and then come out of the front door. But on one condition.’
‘You’re in no position to make deals.’
Mac ignored him. ‘Before I’m roughed up and dragged off, I need to speak to you first. That’s an essential. OK?’
It took a few seconds of an off-phone conversation before Phil told him, ‘That shouldn’t be a problem.’
Mac walked up to the window and opened it. The street outside bristled with movement as the police trained their weapons on the window. Mac held Elena’s pistol out in the open air for a few moments before dropping it. Two cops crept forward, guns trained, to recover it and bagged it as evidence. Mac walked out onto the landing. He took a brief glimpse into the bathroom to admire his handy work with the panels and then checked the bathroom lock again to make sure it worked. He walked down the stairs and to the front door. Pulled it open. Once again, the street was alive with nervous movement. He held up his two hands and pushed them around the door to show he was unarmed before poking his head out. There seemed to be guns pointing at him from all angles. He walked a few steps down the path before he was pounced on with a shout of, ‘On your front, hands out!’
Bundled to the path, sat on by three cops, hands cuffed, Mac was frisked before someone shouted he was unarmed. Then he was dragged back to his feet and frogmarched to a waiting police car. Phil Delaney appeared. Mac felt a hand on his head as he was pushed onto the back seat. He called out to Phil who was standing watching.
‘You bastard, you promised!’
His boss walked up and looked into the car. ‘I want a doctor to check you over first. I’ll talk to you tomorrow morning.’
‘Tomorrow morning’s no good. We need to talk now.’
Another officer climbed in so Mac was trapped in the middle. The back door slammed shut. Phil Delaney walked off up the garden path and went into the house. The car idled while the driver arranged over the radio to get an escort before it set off. Mac hung his head. He wasn’t going to see his son again.
Hammering on the car’s bodywork made him jump. The back door was flung open and a furious Delaney appeared, shouting, ‘Get him out!’
Mac was dragged from the car and stood up in front of his superior.
‘There are two dead kids in there. What the fuck? What the fuck?’
‘I didn’t kill them and I can prove it. Take me back in the house and I’ll show you what happened.’
‘No fucking chance. You’re a murderer; you tell your lawyer what happened.’
‘Check the gun I threw out of the window. It’s got my prints on the barrel where I handled it but not on the handle or the trigger. They’re someone else’s. Take the cuffs off me, take me back inside and I’ll show you what happened.’ Delaney said nothing until he was reminded, ‘The whole street’s full of our armed colleagues. What am I going to do?’
Phil called for the gun that was sealed in an evidence bag to be brought over. He held it up to the light and examined it as if that would tell him anything. When Mac pointed out that it wasn’t the kind of firearm you could buy second-hand for five hundred quid from a scrap metal merchant in South London, his boss looked at him and nodded. ‘OK, since you seem to be the man with all the answers, you take me inside and show me what happened.’
Intrigued and reassured by Mac’s calm manner, he also agreed the cuffs could come off.
The two men, accompanied by an armed escort, walked into the house that was now being treated as a crime scene for a second time. The two burglars were being removed while the house was being searched and was full of activity. They climbed the stairs and when they reached the landing, Mac gestured at the bathroom with his head and whispered, ‘In there. Tell your friend with the gun here to stay outside and I’ll show you the explanation’. He raised his hands to remind his suspicious boss that he was unarmed.
When they were inside the bathroom Mac leaned his head close to his boss’s, whispered, ‘The panels.’
Phil’s face screwed up in confusion. ‘Who put the panels—’
Mac placed a finger on his lip, again whispered, ‘Shut the door.’
‘Mac . . .?’
Voice still low, Mac said, ‘Trust me.’
That got an eyebrow lift from his superior. They remained still for a few seconds, then Phil followed through with Mac’s instruction.
‘Lock it.’
Phil slipped the heavy Victorian lock into place. Mac moved away from the wall panelling and pulled off a panel under the bath. He let his hand go inside. Straightened. Turned.
‘Oh Mac,’ Phil said as he looked at the Beretta Mac was pointing at him.
Eighteen
Mac pushed the gun slightly down.
‘Trust me . . .’
A quick tap-tap-tap on the other side of the door followed by, ‘Are you alright in there sir?’
‘Trust me . . .’ Mac again whispered holding Phil’s gaze.
There was a long delay while Delaney assessed the situation before he shouted, ‘Yeah, I’m fine.’
Mac nodded with approval and then whispered, ‘We can sort this out but first we need a third person to join us.’
He walked across to his handy work with the panels, inspected it and then began to violently kick it until it caved in. He gestured with his gun and Phil went to look inside the space. It took a few moments before Phil looked back and shrugged his shoulders. Mac hurried to look inside.
Empty.
With his gun trained, he climbed inside and found Elena, lying flat against the wall in a corner. He grabbed her arm and dragged her out into the bathroom. She gave no sign of anger at his betrayal. Instead she went straight into character. She sobbed in a heavy Eastern European accent, ‘Please mister! Please! This man kidnapped me, he imprisoned me here and he said he would . . .’
But she stopped short when the gun was pressed
against her temple and she was warned, ‘Stop it or I’ll blow your brains out and please don’t think I wouldn’t because it’s one of the few things in this situation that I am willing to get chucked behind bars for.’
But Elena kept her gaze on Phil. ‘You have to help . . .’
Mac shook her like a rag doll. ‘You really were wasted in the world of organised crime, you know that? A nice looking girl like you, with your skills and the right agent could have made it big in Hollywood.’ He flipped his gaze to Phil. ‘Phil meet Elena Romanov, the woman who murdered those two kids out there. The woman responsible for every bad thing that happened three months ago.’
Phil showed no sign of shock. Instead he moved towards the door.
As he did so Mac whispered quickly in his former lover’s ear, ‘I don’t have to go to prison if you admit to kidnapping John Mac from the hospital. Say you forced me to do it. If you don’t do that, our son – your son – will be brought up by strangers or criminals instead of me alone.’
Phil thrust the lock back. ‘In here.’
When the officer with the gun appeared he couldn’t keep the surprise from his face when he saw Elena.
Phil looked from Mac to Elena.
‘Cuff them both.’
Once the speed cuffs were in place, as Mac passed Elena, he said, ‘Don’t forget this is all about John Mac.’
Nineteen
The following afternoon, Mac was brought up from the cells in cuffs and put down on a seat in front of his boss. On the desk were a number of statements. It had been a bad morning for Phil Delaney. Stephen Foster had declined to represent Ms Elena Romanov on the grounds that there might be a conflict of interest. Instead he’d suggested one of his junior lawyers who had recently started his own practice and might be suitable. It was well known in the legal world that Stephen Foster’s former young associates were keen to keep on the right side of the head of their former practice and not just because he could help them get cases. It was also well known that they were willing to accept unofficial ‘guidance’ from Foster in ‘sensitive’ cases, although Foster soon served a writ on anybody who suggested such a thing. By the time another of Foster’s pupils had agreed to represent Mac and had spoken to him in the morning, Elena’s brief had all the guidance he needed.
Phil Delaney stared at Mac. ‘So let me see if I’ve got this straight – you were kidnapped in the morning by Elena Romanov who forced you to buy a gun from a scrap metal merchant in South London? She then padlocked a bomb to your waist and forced you to kidnap your son from the hospital? You had to escape from our custody for fear she would harm the child? She then told you to meet her at Garcia’s house last night and drive her to Heathrow or you’d never see your son again? And while you were there two burglars turned up and she shot them?’
Mac lifted his shoulders in a casual gesture. ‘You know she killed the two boys. Her prints are on the gun. You know it was me who alerted you to where I was last night by switching my phone on at Garcia’s house. I knew you would pick up the signal right away, so you knew where I was. Trapped in Garcia’s house with that sadistic killer. I wouldn’t have done that if I was in cahoots with her – now would I?’
‘Stephen Foster has found a rather obscure error in the extradition warrant for Garcia and is moving to have the warrant struck down in the courts. You wouldn’t know anything about that either?’
Mac shrugged again, ‘Why would I? Anyway, the Americans can always resubmit the papers can’t they?’
Phil’s expression remained stony. ‘I spoke to Agent Bracken in LA ten minutes ago. Once I explained the circumstances, he seemed rather relaxed about the release of Garcia.’
Mac smiled at his boss. ‘Perhaps Stephen Foster is Bracken’s lawyer as well.’
Delaney lost his temper. ‘Don’t take the piss Mac. You don’t think I realise what’s been going on here?’
Mac looked at the papers on the desk. ‘Charge me or release me Phil. You know how it works.’
‘Do you know where the baby is?’
‘No. I’ve been told Elena is going to tell her lawyer where the child is.’ Mac thought he sounded sincere, although he‘d already had word that Foster was arranging for John Mac to be reunited with his father. ‘I want custody of my boy. His mother’s going to get life; there’s only me left.’
‘Fuck off Mac. You’re not a fit parent and you know it. Look at your behaviour over the past couple of days.’
Mac leaned over the desk. ‘Perhaps. But I’m sure Foster knows a lawyer in the family division who can make me look like a loving father who would sacrifice anything for the welfare of his son, even if it involved a little rule breaking. Now – are you going to charge me or release me?’
The silence that took over the room was broken by a hard knock at the door.
‘Come in,’ Phil growled.
Shazia, his PA, opened the door. Flustered she said, ‘Sir, I’m going to need you.’
Phil appeared reluctant to leave Mac, but he eventually left the room. The breath left Mac’s body when his boss came back.
Phil wasn’t alone. In his arms he held John Mac.
‘I just need to hold him,’ Mac pleaded. ‘Just one more time.’
Twenty
Six Months Later
It was a two hundred mile round trip for Mac to take his son to see the boy’s mother in a category A prison, one of the few that took women lifers. She’d been given two life sentences for the murder of the two burglars. Everyone was agreed it was best if her previous offences in the UK were left on file.
It was a long way to go but Elena was still his son’s mother. Seeing her now, sitting in her standard prison issue clothing, she was also just another murderer.
Elena only had eyes for her son. ‘They won’t let me hold him,’ she said quietly.
‘It’s for the best,’ Mac responded as he tightened his hold on his son. ‘This is the last time you’re ever going to see him.’
Her gaze flicked up filled with venom. ‘You promised—‘
‘To bring him to see you. And here we are. But we won’t be coming back.’
She let out a sudden laugh. ‘You think a child ever forgets the feel of his mother’s arms around him? The touch of her gentle lips as she comforts him after a fall? You’re the one who’s fooling yourself Mac, if you think our son will ever forget me.’
‘In a few days you will receive some adoption papers and you’re going to sign them, giving up all your rights to John Mac.’
Elena’s eyes went back to the child. ‘And if I don’t?’
‘The papers will just keep coming, week after week, until you do the right thing and give this little boy the chance he deserves to live an ordinary life.’
She looked at Mac, then back at the baby. When her gaze lifted to Mac again there were tears in her eyes. ‘He’s all I’ve got left.’
Mac stood, his son securely in his arms. ‘You lost him a long time ago.’
He settled John Mac tenderly against his shoulder. Then he turned and walked away.
As they neared the door, John Mac raised his head from his father’s shoulder and looked across at the woman at the table. Their eyes met and held.
He opened his mouth. No sound came out but he mouthed a word to her: ‘Mamochka.’
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