Jack Morgan 02 - Private London

by James Patterson

  ‘Nor me,’ I agreed.

  ‘But you had Chloe working for you, didn’t you?’ Alison pressed angrily.

  I didn’t respond.

  ‘And now the girl you smuggled in illegally,’ she continued, ‘has been kidnapped and you refuse to tell the police a damn thing.’

  ‘I’m taking the Fifth.’

  She sighed, exasperated. ‘This is Paddington Green, Carter! Not Prairie Fart, Idaho. You don’t have the option to take the Fifth. There is no Fifth!’

  ‘You know, your eyes really do go green when you’re angry.’

  ‘For God’s sake! Are you even listening to me?’

  ‘Like they said when I was arrested, Alison, I don’t have to say anything.’

  ‘Well, you bloody do to me! And stop with the flip bloody act, Dan. I know you’re beating yourself up about what happened to those girls. I know you’re angry and want to get out there and do something about it.’

  Alison knew me pretty well. ‘I do.’

  ‘And I am trying to help you do that. So why don’t you throw me a bone here?’

  I sighed and shook my head. ‘If you don’t know then you can’t be compromised.’

  ‘Then what am I supposed to do?’

  ‘Nothing. I’ll take care of it.’

  ‘How?’

  ‘I don’t know.’

  The door opened and Kirsty walked in. She looked at us both for a moment without speaking.

  ‘Isn’t this cosy?’ she said finally. ‘The Thin Man and his lawyer. All we need now is a little dog and it would be a perfect picture.’

  Kirsty was a big fan of old black-and-white films.

  ‘Are you going to charge my client?’ asked Alison, a degree of frost creeping into her voice.

  Kirsty smiled but there wasn’t a lot of warmth in it, either. ‘Client?’ she said, rolling the word around on her tongue as if trying it on for size and not finding it to her liking.

  ‘If you have something to say, how about we expedite matters and simply say it, Kirsty?’ said Alison.

  Kirsty looked at me, ignoring her. ‘Just so you know. It was never my idea to arrest you in the first place.’

  ‘Fair enough.’

  ‘The second murder and now this abduction. My hands were tied. The big guns were wheeled in and my boss DSI Andrew Harrington ordered you brought in. There’s promotion written all over this case.’

  ‘I see.’

  ‘No way around it. You brought her here under a false passport, Dan. There’s stuff going on that you know and we don’t. And that’s not right.’

  I nodded. Hard to argue with her. ‘Sorry.’ I said simply.

  ‘So … is there anything you want to tell us?’

  I shook my head. The message had been very clear. If the police became involved then Hannah would be hurt. Hurt in ways that did not bear thinking about. There was no option.

  ‘Then you leave me no choice …’ said DI Webb.

  ‘Than to do what?’ asked Alison Chambers.

  ‘Than to let you go,’ said Kirsty. Surprising the pair of us.

  Chapter 44

  IT WAS JUST shy of one o’clock.

  The union bar was starting to fill up. It was a Saturday. Lucy and Suzy had positioned themselves at the far left of the bar, perched on stools that gave them a good view of the room.

  They had been chatting to Carol, a third-year history student who was working the shift with the older full-time manager called Sian.

  Sian had told Lucy that Ryan would be coming on shift from one o’clock. It wasn’t the first time she had been asked that particular question over the couple of months that Ryan had been working for her and she very much doubted that it would be the last. Ryan, it seemed, was very popular with the female students.

  Carol handed a soda-and-lime to Suzy.

  ‘Thanks. Terrible thing about what happened to those girls last night.’

  ‘It’s disgusting,’ agreed the barmaid. ‘A couple of No Means No leaflets and that’s all the protection they reckon we need.’

  ‘Too true,’ agreed Lucy.

  ‘I certainly won’t be working any more night shifts.’

  ‘Were you working last night, then?’ asked Suzy pretending ignorance.

  ‘No. And I’m bloody glad, too. It could have been any one of us.’

  ‘Yeah,’ agreed Lucy. Although she had her doubts.

  She sipped on her own soda-and-lime and wondered how much more of the stuff she could drink. She looked across to the doorway and nudged Suzy with her foot as Ryan the barman came in.

  He waved at a group of three women who were sitting at a table with papers and books spread out before them. They waved back enthusiastically.

  ‘Popular lad,’ said Lucy quietly.

  ‘I wouldn’t waste your time,’ said Carol, amused. ‘That boy’s in lurve.’

  ‘Oh yeah?’ replied Suzy. ‘Who with? Himself?’

  Carol laughed. ‘No, Ryan’s all right. But it seems it’s unrequited love, so who knows?’

  ‘Who’s the lucky lady, then?’

  Carol nodded to a young woman who had come in while they were chatting. She was sitting alone at a table partly hidden from view by one of the carved stone pillars holding the roof in place.

  She was strikingly attractive, with long blonde hair, baby-blue eyes set in a creamy complexion, Cupid’s-bow lips painted pillar-box red. She wore jeans and a short-sleeved rugby shirt. The only thing marring the perfect image was the bandage she wore on her lower right arm, although she made even that look like a fashion statement. But there was also a sadness in her big come-to-bed eyes.

  Laura Skelton.

  Chapter 45

  NO WONDER THE barman had the hots for Laura, thought Suzy.

  She liked the look of her herself. And when she did go for women she normally went for brunettes. Dan Carter and she had that much in common.

  Ryan stood with his back to them, talking to Laura Skelton for a few moments, then headed to the side of the bar, lifting a flap to swap places with Carol who sketched a wave to Lucy as she left. ‘Good luck,’ she said as she passed.

  Lucy nodded back, pretending to be a little flustered and letting the barman catch it. All good cover, she thought. Besides, if the barman was innocent, and single …

  Suzy flicked her a half-smile, snapping her out of her reverie. ‘Be interesting to hear what he said to her.’

  Lucy nodded to the security camera. ‘Be on tape. Can’t see him incriminating himself if he is involved, though.’

  Ryan Williams came across at that moment and gave them a smile of his own, but an almost apologetic one. ‘I don’t believe I have seen you ladies here before,’ he said.

  ‘No,’ said Suzy, giving it the full tilt with her chin. ‘We’re virgins.’

  ‘To the bar, she means,’ added Lucy.

  ‘Can I see your NUS cards then, please?’ he said.

  ‘What kind of girls do you think we are?’ said Suzy in mock outrage. ‘I’ve never had an STD in my life.’

  The barman didn’t smile. He’d heard it plenty of times before. ‘I said NUS. No ID and I will have to ask you to leave, I’m afraid. Particularly after what happened last night.’

  ‘It’s not safe, you mean?’ asked Lucy, giving a good impression of a nervous woman.

  ‘No, you’re perfectly safe. We’ve just had a lot of journalists trying to blag their way on campus today. It’s been all over the news.’

  Suzy laughed. ‘Do we look like journalists?’ She held up her hand before Ryan could reply. ‘It’s okay, sheriff, you can keep your weapon holstered for now.’

  She pulled out an NUS card and held it up as Lucy rummaged in her bag for hers. It had taken them less than five minutes to get them mocked-up back at the office earlier. ‘See?’ she said. ‘We’re both pickers of apples from the tree of wisdom.’

  Ryan looked at the cards briefly and nodded. ‘Sorry. I have to ask.’

  Suzy nodded too, all serious now. ‘Ab
solutely. And I’m glad you did. God knows, we all have to look out for each other. Especially now,’ she added as Laura Skelton approached the bar.

  ‘Can I just get a coffee, please, Ryan? Cappuccino,’ she said.

  ‘It’s on the house.’ The barman beamed at her and hurried off to the other end of the bar where an espresso machine was set back on the counter.’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Suzy said to Laura.

  ‘For what?’

  ‘You probably heard us talking. Saying we all had to look out for each other. I didn’t mean to be insensitive.’

  ‘It’s okay,’ said Laura. ‘I just wish I could have looked out for them better.’ She ran a hand reflexively along her bandaged arm.

  ‘Do the police know any more?’ asked Lucy.

  Laura shook her head. ‘I still can’t believe what happened. Why take Hannah, why leave us behind? God, they could have killed Chloe.’ Her eyes welled. ‘What are they going to do to Hannah?’

  Suzy stroked her arm. ‘Hey, it’s going to be all right. I am sure she is going to be fine.’

  ‘Did you know her?’

  Suzy shook her head.

  ‘So how do you know that she’s going to be fine?’ Laura snapped.

  ‘If she’s been kidnapped it wouldn’t make sense to harm her.’

  ‘But she’s not rich. Her father has some money, but he’s just a car dealer back in San Diego. He’s not a multimillionaire or anything.’

  Ryan came back with the coffee and Laura nodded at him, not really registering his presence.

  ‘We were just about to have lunch,’ said Lucy. ‘Why don’t you join us? I’m Lucy by the way.’

  ‘Thanks.’

  ‘And I’m Suzy Malone,’ said Suzy, smiling as she held out her hand. Laura took it and held on for a while, and when Suzy looked in her eyes there was a definite charge.

  Suzy let Laura’s hand go. She was working. Never mix business with pleasure. Wasn’t that the golden rule?

  Chapter 46

  ALISON CHAMBERS STRODE forcefully across the car park towards her parked car.

  There was very little swish to her hips this time, although her hair tossed a little angrily from side to side. I couldn’t help watching her and grinned a little guiltily as Kirsty came out through the entrance doors and up to me.

  ‘Enjoying the view?’ she said curtly.

  I was standing in the car park of Paddington Green police station, having had my belt and shoelaces returned to me and been released some ten minutes earlier.

  ‘Isn’t it time you let it go?’ I asked.

  ‘More to the point, isn’t it time you did?’ she snapped back.

  I sighed. I had no burning desire to have another ride on that particular carousel. ‘Thanks,’ I said simply, instead of pushing it.

  ‘Thanks for what?’

  ‘For not wanting to arrest me.’

  ‘I’d watch your back if I were you. DSI Harrington is spitting feathers in there.’

  ‘Sorry to ruin his day.’

  ‘I mean it, Dan. He’s got a serious hard-on for you.’

  ‘All I care about is finding that little girl.’

  Even though I had seen the recent pictures of Hannah and the footage of her dressed up like some kind of sick Bettie Page caricature, I still thought of her as the young girl who had discussed F. Scott Fitzgerald with me on that flight not so very long ago.

  ‘I know you do.’

  I looked across at my ex-wife. For a moment there I thought I had detected a little tenderness in her voice.

  Of course I had. Kirsty didn’t hate the world. She just hated me. She wanted Hannah Shapiro found every bit as much as I did. Policing wasn’t just a job to her. It was her vocation. Her life. I felt the familiar stab of guilt I always felt when she showed her softer side.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ I said. ‘If I could go back in time.’

  ‘It’s not your fault, Dan. You didn’t kidnap the girl, did you?’

  ‘I wasn’t talking about that …’

  She held up a hand to stop me saying any more.

  ‘Yeah, yeah. I know what you were talking about but I don’t want to hear it. Not any more. Too much water. Too many bridges.’

  I nodded, reminded of a line from an old situation-comedy theme tune. ‘What became of the people we used to be?’ I looked at Kirsty, remembered the hurt I had caused her, knew I could still cause her when she looked at me with those green eyes that a man could lose himself in, and felt as low as she usually made me feel.

  A honk sounded from across the car park as a black BMW 4x4 pulled in and approached. Sam Riddel, my ride back. I realised I was a little disappointed that he had arrived so quickly. And that thought scared me more than anything that had already happened that weekend.

  ‘What I want to know is …’ said Kirsty, snapping me out of my reverie.

  ‘Go on?’ I prompted.

  ‘How in the name of the crucified and risen saviour did you get the Home Office to spring you?’

  Chapter 47

  PENELOPE HARRIS COULD never have been described as a cheerful woman

  And that Saturday was no exception. She worked as a dental nurse in a small clinic in Old Amersham and was due to have the Saturday off. But due to staff shortages – caused by a stomach bug that had been doing the rounds though had mercifully passed her by – she had swapped her rota and agreed to come in.

  Most lunchtimes she would have had a packed lunch in the staffroom. A cheese-and-pickle sandwich with a packet of crisps and a black-cherry yogurt. She never varied her routine. Routine was important to Penelope. Without routine you had chaos, as far as she was concerned, and Penelope Harris abhorred chaos as much as nature abhorred a vacuum. And one of the things Penelope did every Saturday afternoon was her weekly shop at the big Tesco.

  So that Saturday lunchtime found her there – pushing her trolley round in a foul mood.

  The place was busier than ever and Penelope had to manoeuvre her way around hordes of extremely overweight shoppers. But Tesco stocked a ready meal called Finest Spaghetti Bolognaise, perfect for one. It was her Saturday-night treat when she settled down to watch Casualty, her favourite soap, and she would be very put out if she missed out on it. Luckily they had some in stock. She had backup in the freezer, but it wasn’t the same thing as fresh. Not the same thing at all.

  Still, she was a bit flustered, a bit hot and not in the best of tempers when she returned to the surgery.

  She had left her mobile to charge and there were three missed text messages on it waiting for her return, and one voice-recorded message.

  As Penelope listened to the message the fragments of any remaining hope of a better day vanished quickly. The phone fell from her hand to clatter on the hard floor of the dental surgery’s staffroom.

  Her colleague Debra Brooking turned in surprise as she poured hot water from the kettle into a Pot Noodle.

  ‘Everything all right, Penelope?’ she asked. ‘Not bad news, is it?’

  Penelope nodded, her face ashen. ‘It’s my brother. He’s just been run over by a train.’

  Chapter 48

  HALF AN HOUR later Penelope Harris was standing in front of the reception desk at the Stoke Mandeville hospital, her face flushed with anger.

  ‘What do you mean, I can’t see him? He’s my brother!’

  ‘I know that,’ said the increasingly flustered receptionist on the general admissions desk. ‘You are aware of the circumstances of the accident?’

  ‘His car was on the railway line. A train hit him.’

  ‘Yes. I’m sorry.’

  ‘I know he was badly mutilated. But I should still be able to see the body.’

  ‘It’s not so straightforward, I’m afraid.’

  ‘Why the hell not?’

  The receptionist reddened and shrugged apologetically as a man in his fifties, wearing a white coat and with the obligatory stethoscope round his neck, appeared. ‘It’s okay, Maureen,’ he said. ‘I’ll take this.�
��

  Penelope turned to him. ‘Are you in charge here?’

  ‘I’m Mister Ferguson, one of the surgical registrars,’ he said.

  ‘Good. I want to see my brother.’

  Ferguson nodded. ‘Please come with me.’ He gestured with his hand and led Penelope into a small room with a couple of sofas and a cold-water dispenser.

  ‘I don’t understand. Why can’t I just go and see him?’

  ‘He’s in surgery, Miss Harris.’

  Penelope stepped back. ‘What are you talking about? They told me he’s dead.’

  ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to confuse you. He had a donor card. His heart was viable. He’s going to save a young woman’s life.’

  Penelope shook her head, not believing what she was hearing.

  ‘I understand that your brother was a teacher. The young lady receiving his heart is a gifted young pianist. She’s recently been given a musical scholarship to Corpus Christi College at Cambridge University.’

  ‘No,’ said Penelope.

  ‘I’m sorry?’

  ‘My brother would never have carried a donor card. We have discussed this.’

  The surgical registrar gestured apologetically. ‘I can assure you that he had a card in his wallet …’ He hesitated. ‘And he left a note.’

  ‘What note?’

  ‘I’m sorry, Miss Harris, but your brother committed suicide.’

  ‘No … there’s been some mistake. It’s not my brother. You’ve got the wrong person.’

  ‘The man had your brother’s wallet and was driving his car.’

  Penelope shook her head again. ‘Maybe they were stolen.’

  The registrar didn’t respond and Penelope tilted her chin defiantly. ‘Well, if it is him, then I don’t want the transplant to go ahead. He wouldn’t have wanted it – I know that for a fact.’

  ‘It’s too late, Miss Harris.’

  ‘I refuse. Let us be very clear about this: I am not giving you permission.’

  ‘The girl’s heart has already been removed. They are in the process of replacing it with your brother’s now.’