“Don’t be so fucking stupid, Luke. How can we? We’re all a part of this now. We’re all equally as guilty as Zuccari. What we have to do is damage control.”
There was a long silence.
Every free person in the barn glanced at the others expectantly.
“There’s nothing for it, Sarge, we have to get rid of them.”
Walker couldn’t believe how cold-hearted Vodicka sounded, nonchalant, like it was “no big deal”. “Voddy, no. You don’t mean that. You’re a cop, for fuck’s sake.”
“We don’t have a choice, Luke, do we? We can’t let them go. We can’t call it in, or we all go down, and I for one, am never going to prison, especially not for someone else’s mistake. I like Zuccari, but I’m not going to prison for him, got that?”
“Then we make a deal with them, never to take this further, right, Melodi?”
“Yeah, absolutely. Anything to help the situation.”
“Fuck that!” Yasin growled. “Fuck you, Melodi. No deal. I fucking kill all of you.”
“Yasin, shut up! What did I just tell you. Either shut up, or I swear I’ll kill you for them, and make a deal for just myself.”
Walker spent the next fifteen minutes trying to talk Sarge, Vodicka and the rest of his team out of killing them. The only person on his side was the farmer who hadn’t expected dead bodies on his property. Sarge took the farmer aside, gave him a talking to.
When the Sarge returned, he whispered in Vodicka’s ear, who held the pistol to Yasin Inan’s forehead and pulled the trigger.
As his brain’s sprayed the air, Yasin’s head slumped forward.
“I’m sorry! I had no choice.” Vodicka held the pistol by her side.
54
Hayes swerved to the left, keeping the transit van behind them. Mrs Edwards drove at speed in front of her, but on a winding country road, they would all come a cropper eventually. She had to do all she could to give Fisher’s sister a chance to slip away. Miller held on tight next to Hayes. “Hold on.”
She slowed, while swerving from left to right, keeping the van in check, watching as Mrs Edwards’ car vanished. Behind her, she could sense the driver’s growing frustration by how he kept trying to get by her. “Oh shit!”
The van sped into the back of her, as their Peugeot veered to the left, giving the transit the chance to pull up beside her.
Glancing to her right and up, the passenger window wound down and a pistol appeared. “Down! Get down!” Hayes screamed.
A bright flash preceded her side window smashing into tiny shards. Hayes looked away, trying to concentrate on the road ahead, which became an embankment.
“Look out!” Miller screamed.
Before she knew what was happening, Hayes drove their car along the embankment, narrowly missing trees and bushes, until she managed to slam on the brakes.
“Holy shit! That must’ve been what happened to Parekh,” Hayes observed, unclipping her seat belt and opening her door. “Are you okay? You’re not hurt?”
Miller was up and out before Hayes received a reply. “We’re in trouble. They’ve pulled up over there. Come on, we’ve got to get out of here.”
Listening to her partner, Hayes stared into the distance, observing the rear red lights of the transit. “Oh crap!” She instinctively went into her pocket for the cosh, which she extended. “Let’s call for backup.”
“It’s too late for that.” Miller took her butterfly knife and bottle of mace out of her suit jacket pocket. “Here, you take this. I’ve got the knife and cosh.”
“Right, let’s move!” Miller took control, unsheathing the blade.
They made so much noise running through the woods, hoping the van occupants wouldn’t catch up with them. If they did, Hayes knew they would put up one hell of a fight. The fact their pursuers had guns didn’t bode well. “Stop! Shh!”
In the blackness, she listened to twigs snapping and bushes rustling. Hayes knew which direction their aggressors were heading: towards them. “Quick! Behind this tree.” She snuck behind a tall, wide oak. “If we keep running, they’ll win.”
“We make a stand here, now,” Miller agreed.
With her partner stood next to her, Hayes listened to them approaching. They weren’t the brightest of assailants, which was probably why they left the door open at Paula Lang’s home, together with their mobiles and wallets. Stupid. And why one of them stuck the muzzle of a pistol in the back of Henry Curtis’ head. Dumb.
“They’re around here somewhere. Split up.”
Hayes waited as one walked off in a different direction. The moonlight was enough to make out Miller’s features. The remaining pursuer was in front of them, right by their tree; she could hear him breathing. She took a step out.
A twig snapped beneath her shoe. “Oh sh–”
Raising her bottle of mace, she aimed it at the guy’s face and pressed the button, liquid firing in his face. He fired the gun wildly a couple of times.
While he screamed, Hayes stepped forward, and kicked him in the balls, using the cosh to force him to drop the pistol.
When he pitched forward, Hayes used the cosh to sweep away his legs, putting him on his back. Stood above him, she whacked his legs a couple of times with the cosh.
Miller jumped on him, turning him over onto his stomach. She read him his rights while cuffing him.
The cuffed assailant screamed that his eyes stung, his voice loud, high.
“You’re not going anywhere.”
A bright flash in the distance preceded a dull thud in the tree next to her. Hayes instinctively looked for the gun their cuffed guy had, but couldn’t find it. She heard Miller make a move. “What are you doing?” Her whisper was angry.
Before Miller replied, her partner ran into the darkness. “Over here, dickhead.”
“Miller, no!” She wanted to go after her partner, but she couldn’t leave her captive. His legs weren’t bound, so he could still be a menace. “Stay where you are.”
Sweeping her flashlight over the ground, as she heard another gunshot. “Miller!” Worried, Hayes found the pistol, and when she turned around, heard a scuffle, as her bound assailant ran into the woods.
55
“We don’t have to do this, Sarge.” Walker took a step towards his boss. “Look, she’s just a woman. We can do a deal with her, yeah? No one else has to die tonight.”
Sarge had a pistol pressed against Demirci’s forehead.
“Oh, and we all live happily ever after, is that it?” Zuccari shouted from behind.
Walker turned and pointed at his “colleague”. “You, shut your fucking mouth! You’ve already done enough damage. You really won’t be happy until they’re all dead, will you?” He received a defiant stare from Zuccari. “Yeah, well, you’ll be digging three graves yourself, you piece of shit. Don’t be expecting my help.”
“Enough, Luke.” Sarge glared at him. “None of this matters now. We have to do this. She can’t live, not after tonight. And besides, this is no worse than she’s done to others. This bitch has had more people killed than I’ve had hot dinners, haven’t you, love?”
Demirci shook her head. “Not me, uh-uh. I’ve not had one person killed. Why would I? I’m a businesswoman, not a gangster. If someone owes me money, I don’t have them killed. Where’s the sense in that?” She tried to lean forward, to grab his attention. “I play up to that image on purpose. It never hurts to have people running scared of you, but I swear I never had my cousins kill anyone.”
“And what about his fingers?” Walker noticed her close her eyes. “Your cousin sliced them off, and Zuccari says you wrapped them up in a hanky and put them in your handbag before you left him with these psychos.”
“I never said I’m Mother Theresa,” Demirci said, leaning back. “I said I’ve never had anyone killed, not that I’ve never hurt anyone. It comes with the turf, but I’ve never had to order anyone’s death because everyone pays, sooner or later. How quickly they pay back determines how many body
parts they walk away with.”
Sarge raised his eyebrows. “You see? Would this world be any worse off without her?” He pulled back the hammer, his finger on the trigger.
“Hang on, Sarge, let Luke do it,” Zuccari suggested. “I don’t trust him, and I won’t until I see his hands bloody. Give him the gun, let him do her.”
Walker threw his hands up, took a couple of steps back. “Hey, no fucking way am I doing that. Forget it! If you want to blow her brains out, one of you can.”
When he took another couple of steps back, he bumped into Vodicka, who glared at him. “Or let one of them do it. I’m not touching that gun, got it?”
Sarge turned the pistol on him. “You’ll do as you’re damn well told. I’m the sarge here, not you. If I say you’re blowing her brains out, you’ll do it, or we’ll bury you with her, Luke. Am I clear? You either put a bullet in her, or I put a hole in you.”
“This is fucking ridiculous. Look at you all, acting like the thugs you swore to protect the public from. I’m ashamed of you, Sarge,” chirped the farmer. “And when this is dead and buried, I want you all off my property.”
Turning the gun on the farmer, Sarge ordered him to shut up. “You won’t see us again after this night, ever. But we need to finish it.” Sarge handed Walker the pistol. “Take it! Shoot her in the forehead, or I’ll put one in your brain, got it?”
“You don’t need to do this, Luke. It’s not too late to let me go.” Demirci’s eyes pleaded with him not to kill her.
Walker narrowed his eyes, unable to believe how his evening had turned on him. He was now accessory to a double murder, about to commit his first. He’d have laughed if someone told him he would murder someone tonight. He took hold of the pistol.
“For fuck’s sake, just kill her already,” Zuccari hissed. “Put her out of her misery, before I do it for you.”
When he raised the gun at Demirci, she cried. Her eyes begged him not to kill her. His hand shook. Every particle in his body defied him, preventing him from pulling the trigger, knowing he was committing a damnable offence. And just because he didn’t go to church, didn’t mean he was a non-believer. Thou Shalt Not Kill, simple as that.
“Please, you don’t have to do this. You’re better than them.”
“Shut up, you scum,” Walker growled, pulling the hammer back. “You had those radio presenters killed, didn’t you? You had the owner murdered.”
With tears streaming down her cheeks, she shook her head again. “I didn’t. I needed Henry Curtis. He was making me lots of money; why would I have him killed?”
Walker was confused. “Then why have Zuccari on the payroll snooping around Rachel’s case? Why the interest in it?”
“Because I’m their prime suspect. It pays to have ears close to an investigation when you’re that deep into a case. I needed to know what was going on. I didn’t pay to have them killed, Luke, you have to believe me.”
Confused, the gun started shaking in his hand.
“This is boring, give me that,” Zuccari hissed. He grabbed the gun out of Walker’s hand and stepped towards Demirci. “Lights out time, bitch!”
Walker rushed at Zuccari, too late, as his “colleague” pulled the trigger and the shock of it made Melodi Demirci’s body fall backwards. “No!” Too late, he stared down at the dark red mark in the centre of her forehead, and the blood pooling around her head.
“Now that’s over with, can we get on with burying these scumbags? I’ve got plans tonight.” Vodicka grabbed a shovel off the wall of the barn and launched it at Walker. “You’ve done nothing to help so far, get shovelling.”
He couldn’t believe only half an hour earlier, he’d have laid his life on the line for her. Now? He wanted to pummel that face. Respect to hatred in the space of a night. How was that even possible? His whole unit were now accessories to a triple murder.
56
Breathless, Miller stopped and leaned against a tree in the dark, the woods lit by moonlight only. Sight wouldn’t do her any good here, hearing was her best friend. Picking up rustling behind her, she held her breath, listening.
A twig snapped. Her attacker mumbled a curse.
His footsteps grew louder.
With her butterfly knife in one hand, and cosh in the other, her weapons wouldn’t stand for anything if he managed to fire his pistol. Talk about bringing a knife to a gunfight!
When she thought he was close enough, she followed him around the tree, until she stood behind him. Seizing her chance, Miller pulled the cosh behind her, ready to swing through him, when he caught her off-guard with a back kick to the chest.
Being thrown back, and falling, the shock made her drop her knife.
On the mud on her back, she readied herself for his assault.
Deep, fast footsteps caught her attention.
Her assailant stared down at her, his pistol trained on her.
The fast footsteps made him look up. “What the hell is–”
Miller swung her cosh along the ground, as it caught his shin. A loud groan preceded a body leaping through the air, landing on her assailant. She got to her feet in record time, only noticing the bound hands behind Shin’s back. It was the other assailant!
“Miller!” Hayes’ voice reached her before her partner did. When Hayes arrived, she was out of breath. “Are you okay? I was scared there for a minute.” Her partner stepped up to the fallen duo. “Drop it! Don’t even think about it!”
Beneath Bound Guy, Miller’s assailant dropped the gun. Hayes stepped in and kicked it out of the way. “Right, does one of you want to spill why you’re trying to kill us? Come on, don’t be shy. Because one way or another, we’re getting answers from you two geniuses. Honestly, Miller, how thick can you get?”
“Fuck you!” spat Bound Guy, who lay on top of the other. “We’re not telling you shit!” He yelled in the other’s face, until Miller’s assailant rolled him off. “Let us go, or we’re going to fucking kill you.”
Miller glanced at Hayes and smiled. “Yeah, I don’t know if you’re keeping up with current events, but you’re in no position to bark orders at us.” She took out a second pair of cuffs, bent down and put them around his ankles roughly, making sure they hurt. “You big dummy. Whoever hired you to kill all these people, I hope you gave them a discount; you’re the worst hitmen ever.”
Bound Guy told her to fuck herself once more.
With a sigh, she said, “And you set the bar for originality so high as well. Come on, Hayes, let’s take these two geniuses back to base.” She bent over and helped Bound Guy up. With cuffs around his ankles, he walked slowly, which gave her partner time to get her assailant to his feet. “Easily the dumbest suspects we’ve ever seen.”
“I sure can’t think of any dumber,” Hayes agreed behind her.
“Why do you keep calling us dumb anyway?” Ankle Cuffs asked.
Miller pushed him towards the upcoming road, keeping his gun trained on him. “It’s like this: if you’re trying to off people, making it look like they’ve disappeared, don’t leave their mobile phone, wallets and bags lying around the house.”
“And remember to lock the door,” Hayes added.
Miller stepped sideways when Ankle Cuffs turned around. “I told you to lock that fucking door, you idiot!” He tried to hurl himself at his partner in crime.
Whipping out her cosh, Miller swung the metal bar at his shins, putting him on the earth. “Don’t try any tricks. There’s nothing you’ve got we haven’t seen before.”
Hayes’ captive stared down at his partner. “I did lock that fucking door.”
“No, you didn’t.” Miller bent down and helped Ankle Cuffs to his feet again. “Oh, and another thing: don’t stick your gun in the backs of victims’ heads either. It leaves a mark, one that pathologists can identify as gun muzzles.”
Hayes’ assailant regarded her, then his partner. “Hang on. I didn’t put my gun to the back of anyone’s head.”
“No, but your partner did. Whe
n you murdered Henry Curtis, you left an imprint of your muzzle. Our pathologist noticed the circular mark in his hair. I mean, considering he was supposed to be committing suicide, that was a big clue for us. That and the wobbly handwritten suicide note.”
“And don’t forget the cuts,” Hayes chirped.
Miller reached their car, opened the rear door, and helped Ankle Cuffs inside. Once he was secured, she went round and helped Hayes seat her assailant. “Seat belts, boys. The next stop’s a cell for you two.”
Taking the keys from her partner, Miller started the engine, reversed out of the woods their attackers forced them into, and accelerated onto the country road. The hitmen in the rear seats were secure behind a metal grid partition. In the mirror, all she could see were two dark blobs, with mesh in front of them. “That was a sloppy job.”
“You were saying, about the cuts?” Ankle Cuffs asked.
“They were too deep, too clean,” Hayes stated, turning in her seat. “The pathologist knew almost immediately Henry Curtis didn’t kill himself, like you wanted us to believe. She said slicers never cut that deep. You cut him to the bone.”
Breaking her concentration, Miller swerved when Ankle Cuffs launched himself at his partner in the back of their car. He kept saying how he told him not to cut so deep. Ankle Cuffs’ partner retaliated, saying at least he didn’t stick his gun in the back of Curtis’ head. She smiled at their argument, enjoying it. The more they argued, the easier it would be to get a confession out of one of them, officially, not in the back of their car.
“Will you two please shut up!” Hayes turned to face the windscreen. “I’ve only known you five minutes, and already you’re grating on my last nerve. Stop talking!”
To Miller’s surprise, they followed orders. Ankle Cuffs went back to his place.
“You don’t know why we’re here, do you?” he asked finally. “All this superiority you think you have over us, and yet you don’t know why we’re here. Calling us idiots, yet we know what you’re after.”
The Hard Way Page 21
