by Conrad Jones
“Eventually, yes.”
“Naturally, I will need to verify this with the police,” he said cordially. “It shouldn’t take too long.”
“Naturally,” Toni swallowed hard. She didn’t want to ask the next question but it needed to be asked. “What are you going to do?”
“I don’t know yet.”
“I can’t do you any harm.”
“Oh, you can, Miss Barrat,” he smiled coldly. “You most certainly can.”
“I’ve told you what you wanted to know. What will happen to me now?”
“Sorry, it is remiss of me to leave you in limbo,” he shook his head apologetically. “To be honest, I didn’t expect you to be so forthcoming. I thought it would take us longer to persuade you to tell us who your source was.” He seemed to be debating his next move in his mind. He nodded and shrugged. “Once the police confirm that Grainger is the name that you gave to them too, you’ll be taken to Delamere Forest, shot and buried.”
Toni tried to stop the bile from rising but she couldn’t and she vomited all over herself.
CHAPTER 49
Annie was cold and wet; she woke up shivering and in pain. Her tongue found the gap where her tooth had chipped and broken and she could taste blood in her mouth. She opened her eye and searched the blackness around her. The flesh on her face was swollen around her cheekbone. Her hands and feet were bound tightly. She looked around and quickly deduced that she was in the boot of a car. The smell of exhaust fumes was choking; it mingled with odours of petrol and sawdust. Annie didn’t want to be there. She wanted to wake up safe in her bed. Why had they taken her? If they wanted her dead then she would already be dead. She didn’t want to contemplate the alternative reason. They wanted her alive in order to question her. Questioning would probably involve pain and fear and she couldn’t handle much of either. She knew that what Richard Tibbs did to her hadn’t just changed her life, it had fundamentally changed who she was. Annie wasn’t planning on being a hero. She would tell them whatever she could and hope that whatever happened, it would be quick. She couldn’t face the thought of suffering. Annie wished that she had never set eyes on Antonia Barrat. She had never felt so terrified in all her days. She curled up in the foetal position and felt hot stinging tears on her cheeks.
CHAPTER 50
Marika pushed a shopping trolley into the Tesco superstore. It was busy as she made her way to the beer and wine section. Gary Powell was waiting there as planned. His trolley had a carton of milk, some bread and a case of beer inside and a sports holdall hanging from the back. They caught each other’s eye and she headed towards him.
“Ivor sends his regards,” she said quietly. “He apologises for not coming himself but you know how it is.”
“Of course. He needs to be careful,” Gary cocked his head as he read the label on a bottle of red wine. “I bet he doesn’t know who is on his side and who isn’t right now, eh?”
“He never does,” Marika smiled. “That was clever what you did with the chip by the way. He was so mad. I haven’t seen him that mad for a long time.”
“I was just doing what he pays me to do,” Gary shrugged. “Tracking devices are not exclusive to whoever plants them; especially the cheap ones. Anyone with a half decent tracker could have found that chip. I don’t sleep well if I think someone might be coming to my house uninvited. I’m sure you understand?” he looked around and then checked the contents of the envelope that Marika had brought in her trolley; four prepaid Visa debit cards. “That will do nicely,” he smiled. “You should try this wine, it is excellent.” He placed the bottle into his trolley and then stepped behind hers. He put another bottle of red into his new trolley and pushed it away. “Give Ivor my regards.”
Marika waved and pushed his trolley in the opposite direction, the exchange completed safely. She wandered up and down the store, stopping to put a new pair of jeans for her into the trolley. As she looked at the newsstand, some of the headlines caught her eye. Ivor would be beyond angry when he saw them. She dropped the newspapers into the trolley and then headed for the checkout.
CHAPTER 51
Annie felt the vehicle stop and her heart pounded dangerously quickly. She was safe when they were travelling. They couldn’t hurt her while she was in the boot. Stopping wasn’t good. It suggested that they had reached their destination and the next phase of her kidnap would begin. The next phase would be brutal. They had dislocated Kayla Yates’s joints to get answers. Annie could only hope that they would accept her first answers. She tried to control the panic rising inside her. She heard muffled voices talking and gruff laughing. Maybe it was okay to laugh in that part of the vehicle. Inside the boot, there was nothing in the slightest bit amusing. She could hear three voices. They were inside the car, the backseats between them and her. It was too distorted for her to identify the language but it wasn’t English. She was certain of that. She heard the engine go quiet and the doors opened. Three doors opened and then closed almost simultaneously. Annie was so frightened she could barely breathe. She listened so hard that she could hear the blood pumping through her ears. It was nearly deafening. She heard footsteps approaching the boot. They were coming for her. The click of a cigarette lighter drifted to her. It clicked three times and then she heard the beep of a remote. The boot lid clicked open and dull daylight poured inside. The light hurt her eye. Blurred faces peered in at her but she didn’t have time to recognise them; they had close cropped hair, greying designer stubble and heavy leather jackets. Movie stereotypes maybe but that was how she would describe them if she escaped; when she escaped, not if. She had to think positively. Keep control, Annie or you’ll die here.
She could smell tobacco smoke mingled with expensive aftershave. They pulled a pillowcase over her head and lifted her out roughly. She tried to stand but her legs were weak with fear. Her knees buckled and she collapsed against the car.
“Stand up,” a voice barked. She tried again but her muscles couldn’t take her weight. Her legs weren’t functioning and she felt like a baby giraffe trying to stand for the first time. “I said stand up!”
Annie swallowed hard and tried to regain her composure. Her feet were wet and her teeth chattered with the cold. She could feel her entire body shivering, a mixture of fear and exposure to the elements. Desperation sapped her energy. She could see no way out at all. Annie listened intently to get some idea where she was. Hands grabbed her arms from either side and forced her away from the car. They half carried and half dragged her. Annie could hear birds and the rustle of the wind through tree branches. Leaves and twigs snapped and crackled beneath her feet and the faint whiff of conifers drifted to her. She was either in woods somewhere in the countryside or worse still, in one of the forests that were dotted around Cheshire. The further they walked, the deeper into the trees they went. There was less light coming through the makeshift hood and the breeze couldn’t penetrate the forest. She knew that they were going to question her and then bury her. She would never be found and no one would ever know what they had done to her. Annie felt a terrible sense of dread mixed with the sickening sense of resignation. She wondered what it would be like to die and she was scared, very scared. Panic gripped her and she struggled but she was helpless. Fighting against it was hopeless. There was no hope left. This was the end. This was where she would die, in the forest, killed by a bunch of strangers, evil men driven by money and power. She felt sick to her core. She wanted to beg and plead for her life but terror had taken her voice. She didn’t want to end her days in a cold wet hole in the ground but here she was approaching it rapidly.
They dragged her for at least twenty minutes. Every minute took her further away from help, accidental intervention by a passing stranger, a chance sighting maybe. The chances lessened with each step. Every second felt like an hour. She lost her slippers as her feet dragged along the ground. The cold had made her legs numb and she could no longer feel her toes. Twigs and branches cut and scratched her skin. She wanted it to stop. She
wanted them to let her go and leave her alone. For the first time in her career, she didn’t want to be a detective any more. She would find a new job if they would give her another chance. If only they would let her live, she would do anything that they said.
They stopped and she heard them having a heated discussion, then they seemed to change direction. After another ten minutes or so of nightmarish progress, they stopped again. One of the men pulled the hood off her head. Annie blinked so that she could focus. She was surrounded by a thick forest of conifer trees. The ground beneath her was thick with needles and pine cones and the smell of pine was almost eye-watering.
“Kneel down,” one of the men shook her roughly. Annie collapsed down on her knees. In front of her was a shallow grave, a metre deep. Two shovels stood against a nearby tree. Her breath stuck in her chest. It had been dug recently; the soil piled up next to it was still moist.
“Oh. God please don’t do this!” Seeing her own grave made her gag and choke. She wretched but nothing came up. Annie broke down. Her voice was wet with tears and phlegm. Saliva dribbled from her chin and she could hardly suck air into her chest. Her body trembled with unadulterated terror. “Please don’t kill me!”
“Get a grip of yourself. Make this easier for yourself, Inspector. Tell me what I need to know and it will be quick and painless.” Annie nodded but she couldn’t find her voice. She mewed like a wounded cat. “You are the detective who interviewed Antonia Barrat?”
“Yes,” Annie whispered. Her shoulders were hunched against an attack from behind. She didn’t want to feel anything when it came. Tears mixed with snot and made slimy rivulets down her neck. She couldn’t control her breathing. Panic had stripped her of her faculties. “I’ll...tell...you...everything...that...you...want...to...know,” she gasped, a breath between each word. “Please, don’t kill me!”
“Take a deep breath!”
Annie nodded and tried to slow her breathing down. Tears streamed uncontrollably. Her body was now numb to the core with the cold. She concentrated and managed to quell the panic slightly. They waited for her to regain control before the questioning began again. Annie knew that they had experienced prisoners losing the plot before. It had no effect on them. There was no sympathy or empathy. They were ice cold. There was no consideration for the victims or the families that they left behind. Fear was their weapon and they yielded it freely.
“Can you speak?”
“Yes,” Annie sobbed.
“You asked Antonia Barrat about her informer?”
“Yes.”
“Who was it?”
“Richard Grainger.”
“What?”
“Richard Grainger. That was the name that she gave to me.”
“You’re sure?”
“Yes.”
“That is good,” the voice said happily. “I killed him.” He stopped to think. “You know that though, yes?” he paused and stood over Annie. Annie recognised him as Andris Markevica. Her blood ran cold.
Annie nodded. “They have you on film driving the vehicle. You killed a detective sergeant too.”
“He wasn’t the first pig we’ve killed and he won’t be the last,” he sneered and his colleagues laughed raucously. He looked closely into her face and pointed his index finger. “You won’t be the last either.”
Annie bit her bottom lip and tried not to break down again. Her breath was coming in short sharp gasps. Panic was squeezing the air from her lungs.
“Hmmm,” Andris shook his head thoughtfully. “What happened at the garage?”
“They had arranged to switch vehicles,” Annie sniffed. “Someone hit them at the switch, took the drugs and handcuffed your men. Two of them died. One of them was your cousin, Oleg.”
“Go on.”
“They left them fastened to the van and the mules broke free and killed them.”
“That is what I heard but I didn’t believe it until now.” Annie shrugged as if what he thought didn’t matter. It didn’t. “Do you know who took the zombie from the garage?”
Annie shook her head.
“No ideas?”
“No.”
“We know that the pictures they took at the mill were uploaded,” “Did you see any of them?”
“Yes.”
“And what did you see?”
“Not much. The mules being herded from a rib. Three men in balaclavas and one man that piloted the rib. That’s it.”
“They were uploaded automatically?”
“Yes.”
“The man in the rib?”
“He was an ex-sergeant from the river force.”
“I’m impressed,” he cooed. “That didn’t take long.”
“He was burnt. He had a false hip. Forensics traced the hip joint.”
“Clever.” He crouched in front of her. “What else do you know?”
“There are outstanding warrants across Europe for you and your associates.” Annie swallowed and thought about what she knew and what might keep her alive. She decided that nothing could. They were going to bury her regardless. “We have some names at Companies House linking some of your associates to a property in Aigburth where at least three people were murdered.” She stopped and gasped for breath. Her voice was flat, monotone and uninterested. “One was a Russian male, who we think belonged to the Karpov gang, an African female and a Latvian female. Another woman is critical in hospital. ” She paused for breath. “There are also photographs of you leaving a pawnbrokers shop were a serious assault took place.”
“The woman in the safe?”
“Yes.”
“You know who took them, don’t you?”
“A guy called Jason Greene.”
“Jason Greene?” he repeated sarcastically.
“Yes,” Annie said. “You were driving his vehicle when you killed Rick Grainger and DS Dalton Sykes,” she said with a sniffle. “Coincidentally,” she added.
“Coincidentally?”
“Yes.”
“I can’t believe he is the same guy, can you?” Andris smiled. “He takes pictures and then I am in your pictures driving his vehicle. You couldn’t predict that could you?”
“Nope,” Annie said sarcastically.
“What an unlucky guy, yes?”
“Very.”
“Do you know where he is?”
“No. We haven’t found him.”
“I’ll let you into a little secret,” he leaned in and lowered his voice. “You’re about to become his next door neighbour.” Andris grinned and nodded towards a freshly disturbed patch of ground a few metres away. “You’ll be next to an informer, cosy, yes? And now his pictures are of no value to you are they?”
“Not really.”
“Wow, that’s unfortunate isn’t it?”
“Very. There’s still enough evidence to put you away for the rest of your life.” Annie looked away from him. She felt exhausted. Fear had pumped adrenalin into her system but shock and the cold had sucked the life from her. She was beginning not to care anymore. “They’ll lock you away.”
“I don’t think so. Not that it matters,” he smiled slyly. “I’ll have to leave the country for a while won’t I?”
“It would be wise.”
“You know it has been nice chatting to you but I’m getting hungry and it’s time to eat.” He cocked his head and gestured to the men behind her. They picked up a shovel each and stood behind her. Andris smiled. “Goodbye, Inspector.”
Annie heard a whistling sound. White lights erupted in her brain as the face of a shovel hit the back of her skull with a sickening thud. She felt the shovel vibrate and a boot placed between her shoulder blades. He pushed hard and she was flung forward into the grave. Annie landed face down in the damp soil. The thick odour of decaying foliage filled her senses. She heard the metallic click of a semiautomatic being readied. Suddenly her panic slipped away and she felt almost at peace. There was no more struggling to be done. She just wished that she could have said goodbye. As the first
shovel full of dirt landed onto the back of her head, Annie closed her eyes and waited for a bullet to come.
CHAPTER 52
Alec looked through the glass into the ICU. Jim Stirling looked smaller somehow as if he had shrunk into the bed. Seeing him there made Alec think about Annie. Annie and Stirling lived in each other’s pockets. Wherever one was the other was never far behind. He worried about her but he worried less when she was with Stirling. Big Jim Stirling, the indestructible detective; except he wasn’t indestructible and he couldn’t stop a bullet. Alec thought about going in but his wife and daughter were sitting on one side of the bed; other members of his family that Alec didn’t recognise were sitting on the other. He didn’t want to intrude on their privacy. It was police work that had put him in that bed and often grieving family members could harbour thoughts of blame aimed towards the force. It was rare but it happened. Alec had met Janice many times and she knew that Big Jim Stirling was a copper through and through. He lived to be a detective, although dying because he was a detective was a different thing completely.
“Superintendent Ramsay?”
“Yes,” Alec turned to greet the surgeon who had led the operation to save Stirling’s life. “Thanks for coming to see me, Doctor.”
“No problem,” the doctor said tapping the glass with his pen. “Your sergeant is a strong man. If he wasn’t, he would be dead already.”
“What are his chances?”
“Minimal, I’m afraid.” He took Alec by the arm and walked him away from the window. “On the Glasgow Coma Scale, Jim scored a three, now in layman’s terms anything below an eight is considered to be a coma. Jim is deeply comatose with minimal evidence of brainstem activity. There are a lot of what we call eloquent brain cells in that area of the skull. The bullet did a lot of damage on its way through. We removed it but we won’t know anything for days, possibly weeks. Unless we see some brainstem activity soon, I am almost certain that he won’t make it.”
